Food on Fridays: Maundy Thursday Matzo

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Here at the Food on Fridays carnival, any post remotely related to food is welcome—though we love to try new dishes, your post doesn’t have to be a recipe.

If you want, you could simply count up the number of eggs you’ve colored for Easter and report on what hue works best.

My point is that we’re pretty relaxed over here, and posts like that are as welcome as menus and recipes.

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Food on Fridays with Ann

When I saw my friend Bill’s reflections on the Last Supper, I lingered on his stunning photograph, marveling at symbol within symbol.

Seder, too, seems like an evening of symbol within symbol.

The Maundy Thursday gathering we attended this year was somewhat simplified—for example the plate, as you can see in this photo, was missing the egg. We ate the parsley dipped in saltwater and the matzo dipped in horseradish, but we weren’t served the “charoset” symbolizing the mortar the Jewish people used while slaves in Egypt. I was a little disappointed, as I actually like that simple salad comprised of apples, nuts, wine and spices. But we got to pile a big blob of horseradish onto our matzo, which distracted me from the missing charoset.

Our leader focused on the tradition that calls for placing three matzos into a bag that has three compartments inside—three-in-one? Sounds decidedly Trinitarian.

The matzo, as our leader pointed out, is pricked with many holes; in fact, one might say it was pierced. When it bakes, parts of the matzo touch the baking sheet and are browned; one might say it has stripes.

At one point in the Passover ceremony, the middle matzo is pulled out and broken in two. The larger of the two pieces is wrapped up in a white cloth and hidden away to be found later, by children sent out in search of it. After a child finds it, he or she brings it to the leader, who takes the matzo and in exchange, hands the child a small sum of money; redeeming it, one might say.

This is my body, broken for you.

Symbols within symbols.

But that was Maundy Thursday.

Today is Friday. Good Friday.

Revisiting the original Passover story takes us back to the Passover lamb whose blood covered the doorposts of a Jewish home as protection from the final plague of Egypt: Death, which passed over those households covered by the blood of the lamb.

On Good Friday we ponder the perfect sacrifice—Jesus’ body, broken for me; His blood shed for me, covering me, that death might pass me by.

It is hard, but it is very good.

May your Good Friday be rich with meaning.

Photos by Ann Kroeker