Part 1 -The Cloth

MAUNDY THURS.

“The Cloth”

I was there in the ordinary moments of life:

drying dishes, washing babies, binding wounds, cleaning chaos, wrapping bread, carrying bundles;

yes, ordinary tasks repeated a hundred times in a lifetime...

but there is nothing ordinary about the every day.

It was a long time ago now

when I was changed to believe that everything, everyone, every moment is sacred.

It was an ordinary day in an ordinary time of history,

one day ran into the next, and the next –

but, the tasks of those days turned out not to be ordinary after all

in the way you think of ordinary;

as a place where nothing is expected –no surprise, no drama, no nothing.

Yet, it was in the supposed ordinary where I encountered the One.

It started as a warm feeling.

The realization that there was a presence that couldn’t be touched,

couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be smelled

until, that is, the presence grew and was birthed as a baby.

And then the One was encountered-

touched, seen, smelled, heard

And my tasks changed such that they were done with a love I can’t explain.

I was there in the ordinary moments of life:

Tasks I had done before but now in them I saw the One, touched the One, smelled the One

In every movement

I expected surprise, warmth –a million miracles.

It is true I was there:

The swaddling cloth wrapping incarnation in a stable

The bands that fell off lepers healed,

The strips of cloth holding fast Lazarus as he rose from a tomb

The cloth containing a little boy’s lunch; fish and loaves multiplied to feed thousands

The extra cover at night as Nicodemus approached the One

I was there keeping off fog on a sleeping Messiah as the fishermen faced a growing storm

The cloaks placed on the royal pathway mixed with palms,

prostrated in prayer as the One entered Jerusalem.

A woman unwrapped from within the folds of my cloth an alabaster jar of ointment,

 Jesus feet washed with her tears, anointed with oil, wiped with hair, with a towel

She saw what I saw.

She felt the One –encountered the One

She was touched by the miracle found in ordinary,

and did the extraordinary,

out of intimate love anointed him the Messiah, the One.

I was there in the ordinary moments of life,

  the One wrapped me into the holy story, drew me into relationship

by simply being present in my serving such that it is;

it was this night –a night of all nights

that I was encountered by the One:

as a cloth on the table when sacred bread was broken, taken, shared;

around Jesus waist and wiping the feet of reluctant disciples;

a prayer shawl on the shoulders that went out to the garden to pray.

It was an ordinary night

But one like no other.

I could feel it,

The deep saturated words of the One hanging in the air –

Touching tension, smelling fear, breathing love

A miracle so big that words were heavy

So actions took over.

The One with grace and decorum fed the disciples in a new way

The One washed their feet: a host, serving

The One prayed and prayed and prayed.

Words not enough to contain forgiveness, love, communion.

How else could this not so ordinary miracle come to an end?

It seems as but a dream, a vision of the ultimate plan.

And yes, for the miracle in the ordinary to continue it came to an end

In the garden

I was there to see the miracle walk away

Men came to take the One and he just went away

No fight, no flight; just a look that said

I’ll see you in the ordinary, keep watch and pray.

I was there in the garden,

a robe that falls away in the commotion and remains left behind

–discarded –

left with “the look” from the one.

I stayed and prayed;

 waiting for a million miracles

-discarded-

foreboding of the night and day that was yet to come.