What’s the Maundy of Maundy Thursday? Reflections for Holy Week
If you’ve ever wondered what Maundy means in Maundy Thursday, you’re not alone. It’s a word we don’t use in everyday life—so much so that it might sound more like a typo than a tradition. But this strange little word holds deep meaning as we enter the sacred story of Holy Week.
A Command to Love
The word Maundy comes from the Latin word mandatum, which means “commandment.” It points us to the moment in John’s Gospel when Jesus, gathered with his disciples on the night before his death, washes their feet and says:
“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”
This mandatum novum—“new commandment”—is at the heart of Maundy Thursday. It’s not a vague suggestion to be nice. It’s a radical, embodied love that Jesus both teaches and demonstrates. Before he goes to the cross, Jesus kneels, takes the role of a servant, and tends to his disciples with water, towel, and care.
More Than a Memory
On Maundy Thursday, we don’t just remember that Jesus gave a commandment to love—we practice it. In many Lutheran churches, this service includes foot washing or hand washing, the sharing of Holy Communion, and the stripping of the altar in preparation for Good Friday.
Each part of the liturgy invites us to enter into the vulnerability, the tenderness, and the humility of Jesus’ final hours before his arrest. We remember not only what Jesus said and did, but who Jesus is—the One who reveals God's love in word and deed, in bread broken and bodies tended.
A Holy Mandate for Us
Maundy Thursday reminds us that love is not just a feeling—it’s a command. It's a way of life, rooted in the example of Christ, who shows us that real love serves, heals, and gives itself away.
When we follow this commandment, we reflect the heart of God—not a distant ruler, but a close and caring presence who meets us in the messiness of life. God's love, shown in Jesus, is not abstract. It's poured out in water and wine, kneeling and knowing, breaking and blessing.
So as we gather on Maundy Thursday, may we hear the mandatum not as a burden, but as an invitation. An invitation to live the kind of love that washes feet, feeds the hungry, forgives freely, and trusts that even in the darkest night, God is near.
