"Brothers and Sisters. Today is Maundy Thursday, the fifth day of Holy Week. It gets its name from the Latin word 'mandare', from which we get the word 'command'. Christians remember Jesus' command: "Love one another as I have loved you."
Though each of the days leading up to Easter Sunday are significant in their own ways, Maundy Thursday surrounds the events that lead directly to Jesus' betrayal, arrest, and ultimately, His being put to death the next day on Good Friday."
Reverend Morris continued. "The circumstances surrounding Maundy Thursday can be read in Matthew 26:17-75. The events that unfolded include the Last Supper that Jesus had with His disciples and betrayal of Jesus by Judas."
The weather had become more springlike and milder, which was a blessing to some of the older members of the congregation. March had blown in like a lion and was going out like a lamb. St Michael's church was often chilly and draughty during the winter months, even with the heating on. Today, it was pleasantly warm, helped in part due to to the church being full for once.
At the organ, Mia slipped her feet out of her shoes, ready to play a hymn before the start of the foot washing service. She rather liked the feel of the organ's pedalboard against her bare skin, and her feet felt hot and uncomfortable today. Earlier, she'd suffered cramp in the arch of her left foot. She reclined slightly on the stool, crossed her legs and idly flexed her toes as the vicar continued with his sermon. Gordon sat on a small bench behind her, admiring her shapely calves. He liked the way she raised her legs to slide onto the organ stool. Even more, he loved it when those legs were wrapped around him...something he was looking forward to later.
"Their time spent on the Mount of Olives, where Jesus prayed earnestly in the Garden of Gethsemane, and where He was ultimately betrayed with a kiss by Judas who came to seize Him with the temple guards. Peter's denial of Jesus..." Up in the pulpit, Reverend Morris glanced to his right and became more and more fixated on a certain something. One of his long-repressed kinks was rising to the surface at the most inappropriate of times. Women's feet, younger women's feet in particular, had always aroused him. He'd never told anyone about his foot fetish, not even Jenna. He'd never had such a reaction as this and certainly not during a church service. But the way his wife's cousin kept wiggling her toes like that, dear Lord, it was driving his imagination to commit all kinds of sin! It's Holy Week for heaven's sake...must fight this, he told himself.
"On the first day of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Where do you want us to make preparations for you to eat the Passover?" The vicar's voice trembled slightly, as he struggled to remain composed.
Abruptly, he noticed Mia wince and reach for her foot. The cramp had returned.
"What's wrong?" Gordon whispered.
"Damn cramp's back again," she replied. "Aggh, it's agony! Can you play the hymn for me?"
"No problem," he said, as his girlfriend hobbled off the stool and sat on the bench. "Massage your foot slowly. Try putting it on the cold stone floor. That might help. I've gotten cramp loads of times in the past when playing. It's bloody torture!"
"Thanks, Gordy-Pie!"
Poor Mia, Reverend Morris thought. Now he had an even better view of her bare feet. Such slim and elegant feet. So nimble against the organ's pedalboard. He took a deep breath as he imagined he was cupping the arch of her foot, his hand slotted in the tender space between the heel and the upper sole. After an awkward pause, he continued his sermon.
"He replied, "Go into the city to a certain man and tell him, 'The Teacher says: My appointed time is near. I am going to celebrate the Passover with my disciples at your house.'" So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them and prepared the Passover."
Some young children were shifting uncomfortably in the pews.
"How will we show that God is King when we're tempted, to abandon the way God call us to live? Knowing God is our King should change everything but we can't change everything all at once! So what one small step of obedience can we take this week to demonstrate with our lives that God is King all of the time? Take time to pray, and then seek to obey as Jesus obeyed. Amen!"
Reverend Morris ended his sermon abruptly, no doubt to the relief of many, but most importantly, to himself. He descended from the pulpit and sat down beside the organ, as a member of the choir stepped up to the lectern to do a reading. He hardly heard a word the woman said, for his eyes were fixated on Mia's bare feet. She was still gently massaging her left foot. Oh dear, this was going to be unbearable. He knew she'd volunteered to take part in the ceremonial foot washing.
Mia suddenly glanced at the vicar and smiled at him. He jolted and cleared his throat, before smiling back. He could feel a familiar burning in his cheeks, not to mention a throbbing in his cock, which was now at full stand, and forcing its way up against his trousers and vestments. He had never been more grateful to be wearing a cassock and surplice. He cast his mind back to last year when he'd allowed himself to be seduced by her. All in the past of course and they'd moved on. Besides, she was blissfully happy in a relationship with Gordon. The organist had slept with Jenna on numerous occasions before Mia had come along. Hmm, well best not to dwell on that tangled web of carnal relations right now.
The reading came to an end and everyone stood up. "Please stand for our hymn, Sweet Sacrament Divine." Reverend Morris said, his voice faltering.
On the front row of pews, Jenna tilted her head at her husband's shaky delivery, wondering what was wrong with him. It wasn't like Simon to be nervous when speaking in front of an audience. Something was bothering him though. She could see a line of sweat above his upper lip and a blush on his cheeks.
After the hymn, came the ceremonial washing of feet, a reminder of how Jesus served others. As Mia sat before the vicar, her delicate hands folded in prayer, he could feel his heart race with anticipation. He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and began to wash her feet, using a soft, damp cloth to clean each toe, each inch of her soles. As his fingers brushed against her skin, he felt a surge of desire course through him, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feel of her feet against his palms. His erection began to ache, straining against his clothing, and he fought the urge to reach down and adjust himself, lest he give anything away.
Mia seemed oblivious to his inner turmoil, content to let him tend to her with his gentle ministrations. Her breath hitched softly as he massaged a particularly tender spot on her arch, and he found himself growing bolder, wanting nothing more than to explore every inch of her feet, to lose himself in their softness and warmth. He moved his hands higher, tracing the line of her calves, feeling the muscles tense and relax under his touch.
"Are you washing feet or giving out a full sponge bath, Vicar?"
Reverend Morris was jolted back to reality and he glanced up. An impatient old woman sat next to Mia was glaring at him. "It'll be Advent before you've got round to washing all our feet."
"Umm, my apologies, Mrs Harris, I er..."
"Stop being mean to him," Mia interrupted. "He's just being thorough. Like Jesus would've been!"
The old woman tutted. "I'm not being mean, young lady!"
The vicar's face was turning crimson, fearing that his arousal might be visible. He tried to focus on his duties, to keep his mind on the ritual, but it was becoming increasingly difficult, not to mention he was leaking precum into his underwear. The wet patch was becoming uncomfortable against his cock. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and forced his mind back to the task at hand. He finished washing her feet with a gentle pat, feeling a pang of regret as he stepped away from her.
"About time," Mrs Harris muttered as the vicar began washing her feet. "And be careful. I've got corns!" The ninety-year old's gnarled toes were sufficient to calm the raging sea of arousal surging within him. At least until the service was over. Mia headed back to the organ, her feet feeling lovely and refreshed.
