Maundy Thursday has always held a special place in my heart, but this year’s observance felt particularly profound. The day marks the Thursday before Easter and commemorates the Last Supper of Jesus Christ with his disciples, the night he washed their feet and instituted the Holy Eucharist. The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin mandatum, meaning “commandment,” recalling Jesus’ words at the Last Supper: “A new command I give you: Love one another as I have loved you.” It is a day of humility, service, and deep reflection, and this year, I was granted the grace to experience it fully through my seven-church pilgrimage.
The morning began with a prayer of gratitude. I thanked the Lord for giving me the strength, health, and devotion to embark on this journey. “Thank you, Lord, for the grace to begin my Maundy Thursday journey to the seven churches. Guide my steps and draw me closer to you,” I whispered, feeling both excitement and solemnity. My first stop was Our Lady of Perpetual Succour. I entered with a prayerful heart, asking God to prepare me for the sacred journey ahead. Standing in the quiet presence of the church, I felt gratitude wash over me. Each step I would take today was meant to be more than physical; it was a journey of spirit, reflection, and devotion.
From there, I moved on to Holy Family, the second church on my route. As I walked, I reflected on the importance of faith guiding every step, even in moments of fatigue or distraction. Arriving at Holy Family, I again offered thanks for the opportunity to undertake this pilgrimage, for the safety of my journey, and for the gentle guidance of the Lord. My third stop was Queen of Peace, my parish and the church of my childhood. It held memories of family, community, and the roots of my faith. I felt peace there, a sense of home within the sacred walls. Completing the three churches in the east, I faced the long walk to town for the remaining four. I prayed for strength, acknowledging that this portion of the journey would test both body and spirit.
Halfway through, after eight kilometers under the blazing sun, fatigue began to set in. I paused and offered a quiet prayer of thanks, not only for the strength to continue but also for the beauty and safety of the country I live in. During that pause, I noticed the delicate flowers along the path, and I felt a gentle reminder of God’s presence. Luke 12:27 came to mind: “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin… yet not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.” In their quiet, unassuming beauty, I found reassurance that God’s timing and providence were perfect, and that rest and trust were essential parts of the journey.
The day continued with unexpected moments of grace. I received a work call about a child suspected of stage one cancer. Though I had taken the day off for this pilgrimage, I saw this as a call to act, to serve, and to assist in every way possible. Later, at a quiet spot to make the necessary phone calls, I noticed a beggar tucked away in an unassuming corner. It is rare to see someone in such need in Singapore, and I felt the opportunity to give a small gift to brighten their day. In both instances, I realized that Maundy Thursday’s lessons of service and humility extend beyond the walls of the church.
Temptation also presented itself along the way, subtle but persistent, promising fleeting pleasures and indulgences. In that moment, I recalled the essence of the day: love, service, and faithfulness. Not every path that appears attractive leads to life. By God’s grace, I resisted these temptations, choosing to continue in trust and devotion, understanding that true joy and fulfillment come from His enduring love.
As I approached the town area, exhaustion weighed heavily on every step, yet the ringing of church bells greeted me with a sense of grace. The first church in town, Our Lady of Lourdes, welcomed me with the familiar solace of sacred space. I paused to give thanks for strength, guidance, and the gentle presence of Our Lady along my journey. A sense of renewed purpose carried me forward toward the fifth church, Saints Peter and Paul. Along the way, even a friendly crow became a symbol of God’s creation and presence, reminding me that every detail, no matter how small, is part of His plan.
This year, I embraced the role of an angel in a small way. Remembering a dear friend had admired the crucifix I wore, I purchased one for him from a Catholic bookstore, coinciding with a priest being there to bless it. The timing was miraculous, for my friend had been searching for one online just the night before. Moments like this reinforced the interconnectedness of faith, kindness, and divine timing, reminding me that grace is often visible in the simplest acts.
As I approached the Cathedral of the Good Shepherd, the sixth church, the bells rang once again, a comforting reassurance that God’s presence meets us along the path, not only at our destination but throughout the journey. I felt like a sheep gently led by the shepherd, each step guided by unseen hands. My final church, St. Joseph’s, marked the completion of this pilgrimage. My body was tired, but my heart overflowed with gratitude. Every moment, from weakness to perseverance, had been carried by grace, and I felt fully entrusted to God’s care, much like St. Joseph himself.
By the end of the morning, I had walked 19,619 steps, covering nearly 16 kilometers in just over three hours. My body was weary, but my spirit was full, each church along the way serving as a tangible reminder that I was never walking alone. Later that evening, I was blessed to continue the pilgrimage again, this time accompanying my mother. I accompanied her by bus and foot last year, putting my own pilgrimage aside so I could accompany her. This year, however, I realized that I could experience both the personal and shared journey, walking in the morning for my own devotion and then guiding my mother through the route in the evening. Together, we visited all seven churches, some by bus, some by foot, sharing prayers, reflections, and laughter. By the end of the day, my steps totaled nearly 29,000, but the true measure of the day was the grace, gratitude, and love that filled it.
Maundy Thursday, with its rich history and sacred rituals, is a day to reflect on love, service, humility, and faith. It reminds us that devotion is not only expressed through prayer but also through our actions, perseverance, and care for others. This year, walking the seven churches, I experienced all of this in a deeply personal and tangible way. The journey tested my endurance, patience, and focus, yet every step reinforced the presence of God, the importance of community, and the quiet power of grace. I am deeply thankful for the faith that has grown in me, for the opportunity to share it with my mother, and for the countless reminders that in God’s hands, every journey is sacred, and no step is ever taken alone.
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