This Easter may we have the humility to dip our feet in the soothing waters of spiritual refreshment.
Upside Down
(A Poem for Holy Thursday)
And everything is upside down,
like faces mirrored in a bowl:
an earthen vessel, roughly formed,
that's full of water while the one
who once was robed, incomp'rable,
in light removes his outer robe
to tie a tow'l, a servant's garb,
around his waist and stoops to wash
his foll'wer's feet of traces from
the dusty Roman roads they've walked.
Yes everything is upside down
for whom in all this world would like
to think that him whose praise we sang,
"Hosanna to King David's son,"
should stoop to take a servant's part.
Oh we would rather he should reign
on high with us at his right hand.
But Servant Lord, incomp'rable,
you call us to remove our pride,
an outer robe, and stoop to wash
all others' feet: humility,
and thrust down deep our dusty feet --
to take the love you offer us --
into the bowl reflecting you.
Capuchin Franciscan Province of St Joseph.
And some Caitlin thoughts!
Jesus, my feet are dirty.
Come even as a slave to me, pour water into your bowl,
come and wash my feet.
In asking such a thing I know I am overbold,
but I dread what was threatened when you said to me,
“If I do not wash your feet I have no fellowship with you.”
Wash my feet then, because I long for your companionship.
So I had my feet washed by this man, for the first time ever and we smiled warmly at each other over that basin, and something shifted and gratitude followed.
Wherever you are and whoever is washing your feet, have a great Holy Day
Caitlin
Blessing You Cannot Turn Back
For Holy ThursdayAs if you could
stop this blessing
from washing
over you.
As if you could
turn it back,
could return it
from your body
to the bowl,
from the bowl
to the pitcher,
from the pitcher
to the hand
that set this blessing
on its way.
As if you could
change the course
by which this blessing
flows.
As if you could
control how it
pours over you—
unbidden,
unsought,
unasked,
yet startling
in the way
it matches the need
you did not know
you had.
As if you could
become undrenched.
As if you could
resist gathering it up
in your two hands
and letting your body
follow the arc
this blessing makes.
—Jan Richardson
