As I told you in my last blog, our sweet friend Maria’s birthday was on Tuesday. We had to be at school on Tuesday, but we had this Thursday off, so we decided to go celebrate with her. On Wednesday night, we baked her a birthday cake. And on Thursday morning, we ventured to Muizenberg, where she stays.
As we were gathered, signing a birthday card, before we went onto her street, a man walked by us. Elliot felt the need to talk to him, and so he did. The man was from Malawi. He was here for work. His wife, who was still in Malawi, recently became very sick. He was leaving ton Friday morning to return to her. He asked us for prayer. So we got to pray for our Malawian brother. He was so thankful. He hugged us each and shook our hands multiple times. Then, as he was about to go his way, he looked down at his hands. He was holding a grocery store bag. Then he looked at us.
“I just bought this loaf of bread and this 2 liter bottle of orange soda.
And I don’t even know why.
Here.
It’s for you.”
He tore a small piece of bread off for himself, and handed us the rest.
And a buzzer went off in my good little Catholic school girl mind.
It was Holy Thursday!
The day we, as Christians, remember the Last Supper!
God had sent that man to give us communion for the homeless!
And so we went on.
And we found Maria and all of her friends.
It was raining, so we gathered under the overpass bridge,
sang happy birthday,
ate cake,
and talked.
We worshiped together and prayed for each of them individually.
And then, under that bridge, with about 12 of our homeless friends, we reenacted the Last Supper.
On Holy Thursday.
We remembered how Jesus gathered with His 12, on the night before He died.
How He broke bread and shared wine with them.
As He told them that He was about to spare His body and shed His blood for them.
He said to continue to gather and share communion in memory of Him.
And so that’s what we did.
We broke the bread,
and we shared orange soda.
And we loved,
and we worshiped,
and we prayed.
And it was beautiful.
And this is the only way I would’ve wanted to spend my Holy Thursday.
Reenacting the Last Supper with 12 of Jesus’ most outcasted disciples.
Because He would've.
Because He did.
