Ted Lasso, Fairy Tales & Maundy Thursday
I'm writing this on Maundy Thursday. Whenever I hear the term "Maundy Thursday," I can't help but hear in my head the words to The Mamas and The Papas' song from the 60s, "Monday, Monday." I substitute "Maundy Thursday" for "Monday, Monday."
"Maundy Thursday, can't trust that day,
Maundy Thursday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh Maundy Thursday, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Maundy Thursday, how could you leave and not take me.
Every other day, every other day,
Every other day of the week is fine, yeah
But whenever Maundy Thursday comes, but whenever Maundy Thursday comes
You can find me cryin' all of the time."
I know. I need serious help, but it does kind of fit theologically.
Well, Maundy Thursday has nothing to do with The Mamas and The Papas. It's beendescribed as a night of towels and tears, of bread and betrayal. The upper room was warm with candlelight and friendship, but outside, the dark forest waited.
And here's the thing—we know this story well, so it's easy to skip ahead. But for the disciples, this night was the unraveling of everything they thought they knew. Jesus, their miracle-working rabbi, had just washed their feet like a servant. Then He talked of suffering. Of leaving. Of denial and betrayal and brokenness.
This was not the story they expected.
And that brings to mind, as my brain works in very odd ways, a clip from Ted Lasso, whereTed tells the team he believes in "Rom-Communism."
Based on the evidence of all the romantic comedies Ted has seen, he states,
"Fairy tales do not start nor do they end at the dark forest. That son of a gun always shows up smack dab in the middle of a story."
On Maundy Thursday, we remember the night Jesus and His friends were in the middle. And it was dark.
We've all been there, right? Those seasons where you feel like you are in a tunnel of darkness and are not sure if that light in the distance is hope or a train coming to run over you. Maybe that's where you are right now.
The middle is a tough place to be.
But here's another gem from Ted Lasso about rom-coms, one that, although humorous, ends with surprising hope:
"If all those attractive people with their amazing apartments and interesting jobs, usually in some creative field, can go through some light-hearted struggles and still end up happy, then so can we."
It's funny, sure—but there's something true. The belief that joy is possible. That the story might turn.
And that's the heartbeat of Maundy Thursday: not despair, but purpose. Jesus didn't run from the forest. He walked into it—on purpose. Because He saw what was on the other side.
Peter would later write to the early church, people facing real suffering, with words that feel tailor-made for us, too:
"In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while… you have been distressed by various trials." 1 Peter 1:6
"After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace… will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you." 1 Peter 5:10
The pain is real. The middle is messy. But the promise? There's more to the story.
Because Jesus went into the forest, we don't walk ours alone. Because He suffered, we have hope. Because He rose, our stories don't end in the dark.
On Maundy Thursday, Jesus stepped into the dark forest—not as a character in a fairy tale, but as the Savior of the world. What He offered wasn’t a fleeting happy ending, but an everlasting hope. He didn’t promise us an escape from pain, but a path through it.
And the good news? This isn’t fiction. This isn’t a dream. And Jesus? He’s no fairy tale.
One summer in the late 80s, at Frontier Ranch, I got to play guitar at Young Life Club every night with an artist named Phillip Sandifer from Austin, TX. He had a few records out at the time, but there was one of his songs I loved that he never recorded. I asked him to write the lyrics on a legal pad for me. I still have that legal sheet. The chorus went…
“More than another fairy tale
More than a story or a scheme
Better than a happy ending
To the sweetest dream.
Stronger than summer sunshine.
Longer than the longest day
Greater than the greatest good times
Is Your Way.”
— Phillip Sandifer
So yes, the forest comes. The trials rise. The night feels long. But through it all, there’s Jesus—unchanging, unwavering, and better than the best ending we could imagine. Because His way is not just the way through, it’s the way home.
Reflection Questions:
1. Where in your life are you currently walking through a “dark forest”?
2. How does knowing that Jesus chose to walk into the darkness for our sake change your perspective on suffering?
3. What would it look like to hold onto hope—not in naive optimism, but in trust that God’s not done writing your story?