An Interesting Maundy Thursday

On the afternoon of Maundy Thursday, I received the call Jan and I had been waiting for all week from the Council of Governments re the high-paying job I had interviewed for. They said they had decided to hire my former co-worker, Lisa, who was laid off the same day I was. I was terribly disappointed since I had already envisioned myself sitting down to write hefty monthly checks to pay our debtors off during the next year.
At 7:00 Jan and I went to the Maundy Thursday Mass together which commemorates a number of big events--the Lord's Supper, Jesus washing his disciples' feet, his anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane and the arrest. As I knelt in the pew with the others, I got angrier and angrier. I was mad at first because the service started off with a hokey contemporary song. Then I realized that I was jealous of Lisa and told myself to get over it, but then I started thinking about th huge injustice of the whole thing. I had worked closely with Lisa and she had a really lousy work ethic. I came in half and hour early every day, she came in half an hour late. She surfed the net a good three hours a day, I worked through lunch hours. Her Coordinators would come to me on a regular basis and ask to be transferred to my team. AND THEY PICKED HER!
"Pity party" does not come close to describing my state of mind. Jesus is being kissed by Judas, getting arrested, his disciples are running off as fast as their little cowardly legs can carry them, and I am the so wronged that I'm not going to sing these hymns.
I am thinking I probably should not receive communion in this state and I ask the Lord to help me know whether to go up or not. At the last second I go up, asking very coldly for forgiveness for my anger. I take communion, go back to my seat, and kneel again as the priest, choir and congregation sing the Pange Lingua (an ancient hymn meaning "Sing my tongue" about the mystery of Jesus as the Passover lamb, the saving victim.) It's been sung for centuries during Maundy Thursday. Suddenly about ten minutes after taking communion, I realize that since taking communion, I hadn't had even one thought about losing that job, and my anger was gone, absolutely gone. My first amazed thought was, "where did it go?" It was like the pew in front of me had just completely disappeared. Those of you (Mother, children) who know me well would know that this just doesn't happen with me. I can eventually let go over time, but not like this. I had absolutely nothing to do with this change of heart, so much so that I wasn't even aware that it had happened for a full ten minutes.
How do I explain this? Perhaps because I was absorbed unconsciously in the power of the old ancient hymn, the Pange Lingua. Perhaps because I was surrounded by things so much bigger and greater than me, what Jesus went through, the church remembering these things together for 2000 years, taking part in the Last Supper. In the presence of these great truths, in the presence of Jesus in his church, my anger became a little pin prick of light in the dark sky and then-- was extinguished.
After the service, Jan and I walked to our car in the cold dark night. We were at peace because had been there together.