Holy Trinity...my wise women of three.

"the holy trinity"

watercolor done  while on retreat at Bethany Spring

inspired by womanist bookcover (can't remember the name of the book)

I remember being on retreat when I started this watercolor.  I was sitting in a pink room with a desk and bed, listening to rain pound against the tin roof of the retreat house.  I'd been observing silence and listening in hopes that God would speak to me--mainly while in that room, I caught up on some much needed sleep and pretended to be on a spiritual retreat.

I'd been reading a book about womanist theology and hospitality and

I felt very drawn to the cover of the book...I started meditating on the images and

from that meditation they showed up.

As I painted and looked at the intertwined Celtic cross above my desk,

the world stopped..

and in the

midst of color and dirty brush water and a cup of steaming coffee on my desk...

the spiritual three showed up for a brief visit 

They came to me

in the form of

 wise women--- I simply called them..

the Holy Trinity....

The First who was just called Spirit woman showed up in her purple finery came and was followed

by the The Experiences of the Past all dressed in her rich oranges and gold--with her queenly hat all poised atop her head she carried tall and proud.

In the midst of rain, the PneumaWind of Voice in her blue robe moved all around with her graceful dancing gait 

and they

pulled up chairs,

gathered around me

joined me in that small room and sat at my desk.

and then they invited me

to embrace myself

to love myself

to accept myself for and in all the goodness God created.

Pneuma said, "don't be afraid, tell your tale and live your live,"

Experiences of the Past simply wrapped her arms around me

filled me with love and hope and inspiration and whispered in my ear...

"go on girl....you've already learned what you need  get on out there and live "

the Purple Spirit woman wrapped her purple shawl around my body

and simply said nothing...but her act infused much needed love into the marrow of my dry parched bones.

They danced a dance around me

and invited me to join in ...

and just as the coffee had been depleted they left....

and

left me me without saying goodby

and

I

was

 changed.

I'm so glad...

the Holy Trinity, my three wise women...

came to see me

so glad to be changed.

hope they come again sometime.......

I got the veratile blogger award....yeah!!!!

Here are the rules:

1.) Winners- Put the above image in your blog.

2.) Include a link back to the person who gave it to you.

3.) Tell 10 things about yourself

4.) Award 3 other bloggers

5.) Contact the bloggers you awarded and let them know they won.

What an exciting morning!
I checked my comments and found that  I had been awarded this award by http://theblogger-lace.blogspot.com/2011/04/universe-is-beginning-to-show-signs-of.html.  Thanks so much L.A.C.E.

As part of the award, I need to need to tell you all 10 things about me,

 and award 15 new bloggers and let them know they’ve received the award.

Let's see--seven things about me:
1.  married to my man for 18 years, we have two children, ages 15 and 16
 (12 months apart--its a long story)
2.  I earn a living  as a laboratory coordinator at the University Health Care facility
3.  I have a Masters of Divinity and do pulpit supply preaching in the Presbyterian Church
4.  I am an introvert by nature--most people--- never know it because I'm constantly asking people questions and gathering stories
5.  I work out five -six days per week and do weight training with a trainer 3 days a week. I have lost 60 pounds over the last two years just by working out.
6.  I am very straightforward and direct--sometimes way too honest and it scares the hell out of people who are not comfortable in their skin--but as long as I'm comfortable in my skin...i'm OK
7.  have a dry sense of humor, am a bit off color and can get a story out of anyone.....love asking people about their tattoos--love looking at them and talking about them but don't have any myself.
8.  Grew up in Western Ky in a little town called Nortonville...it has a flashing red light.  I used to be ashamed of my Southern Heritage but now I wear it and the accent proudly.
10.  I love to hike and would love to hike some of the Appalachian trail...it's on my bucket list.....I however do not like roughing it...i can hike all day but at night, I want a shower and a bed.

Here is a list of those who I have payed the award forward with; 
1.  http://philosophyofacynic.blogspot.com/     PHILOSOPHY OF A CYNIC
2.  http://caminosantiago2012.blogspot.com/  MY PILGRIMAGE TO SANTIAGO...A JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY
3.  http://practicingcontemplative.blogspot.com/ Earth's Crammed with Heaven
(okay I could not pick just three)
4.  http://bellavidabyletty.blogspot.com/  Bella Vida


thanks LACE...sorry it's taken me a week to pass it on.
 

sittin' on the dock...reflecting....asking questions...

Sittin' here resting my bones
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's two thousand miles I roamed
Just to make this dock my home

recorded by Otis Redding

In the middle of my stomach,

deep underneath my heart..

something is breaking and cracking open

and

suddenly I feel like the

energy of the world has been poured into my soul,

it moves around,

pushing and pulling on the strings attached to my heart

it hurts,

it pricks,

it sizzles uncontrollably like an egg in a frying pan,

I don't like it.

would like to ignore it...

want to pretend it isn't there at all

and so I

distance myself from it all...

After all,

Is there really anything I can do?

I hear news of hurt, pain, sadness...

and

i wonder where you might be?

Do you see all this pain,

all this devastation,

all the hopelessness I see and feel....

If your power is great....then why does the world look like it does today ?

If you are all powerful---

why do children still die of starvation,

and

why do some people die unexpectedly in storms and tornado's and yet

others live? 

 is it your magic checker game or is it just non providential happenstance?

why do some old people live long past their time and deal with aches and pains and hurt,

why are other tiny beings  birthed into the world

grasping onto a fragment of life-force only to have it pulled right back away from them

so that they

then pass onto the liminal limit I cannot see.

I know there are no answers,

I understand that I can't know why...

but when I see the destruction

and devastation and hurt..

I really want to understand

why some of us

have food to eat,

water to drink,

medicine to heal

and

a home to protect us

 and why some of us struggle to move forward or even to survive.

They...the proverbial They...

tell me your in the midst of it all

that you are everywhere

but are you there....

really?

the church calls you powerful...

I call you present energy

breath of life...

and name the tension I feel in the struggle to know how this place

called world really shakes out,

how things are divided up....who decides who gets what...

this sittin' and thinkin' and reflectin'

makes me feel separated a bit from you...

like you've taken a vacation from me...

or perhaps,

it is me who stepped out on the dock of the bay....

Are you really there or here or everywhere...

Is the whole world really in your hands....

I look at the brokenness and

gather up the courage to

finally ask you...

Where the hell are you????

If you are...

then pour yourself out on us...

rain your love down,

sprinkle you love dew over this universe and

bring your goodness to us--

not just some of us...

but all the little children of the world......

Are there answers?

some folks have it all in black and white

printed up in literal words...placed on their sacred shelf

but

I live in a world full of  shades of gray...

I sense you moving..

feel your presence...

believe your atoms move in side of me,

bounce off each other..connecting me to thee and thee to them

but

tonight...

this loneliness haunts me,

that old wound hurts and aches..

and the

world..

oh my LORD...

this ole world..

is in need of something...

if you know what it is...then come on....

what are you waiting for...

I'm just a sittin' on the dock of the bay...

and

I'm just wondering...

so I hope you don't mind.

and if you could..

if you would..

send it on down..

send down

a touch of your amazing grace...

I'd appreciate it and so would the rest of your little kids....

thanks for listening..

I'm just a sittin' here...

thinkin'

wastin' time...

OH Yes.

amen.

feed me, feed me, feed me......

"Help" is a prayer that is always answered. It doesn't matter how you pray--with your head bowed in silence, or crying out in grief, or dancing

ANNE LAMOTT

Yesterday I went out to the deck to check on the babies.

It has been raining here for days and it had been two days since

I was out on the deck messing into their business.

I got down on the wet deck on all fours and

pushed my eye to the crack so I could see...

my how they had grown,

what was once pink tiny blobs with peach fuzz punker rock hairdos was

now bigger blobs, covered in grayish fuzz

and big black blob buttons for eyes that were not yet open.

Mama must have been out looking for food...

i think they thought I was her..

because when they felt my vibrations...

 suddenly their little necks popped up

and these gigantic mouths on such little things

all opened up and stayed open...

I had to laugh...

hungry little things....

wondered if perhaps

this is how I look when God sees me...

little blob with crazy fuzzy hair all stuck up from my constant playing with it...

wondered if that's how I stood before HER.

In a book, somewhere on my shelf sits a couple of books by Anne Lamott...

she says something like, "There are two types of prayer...

Help me! Help me! Help me!

and

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!...

i figure most of us

spend a majority of our time,

crying out with our giant beaks,

begging for

Help...

sort like those babies

crying..

feed me...

help me help me help me

I know I'd like to be more full of the thank yous and perhaps

i may work on it day to day...

but I'd say..

for the most part

when I think of God,

my mouth springs open,

and

 sit there..

help me

help me

feed me...

come on Mama

give me something....

so thankful or those

big beaks, for necks getting stronger and for gray peach fuzz coverings.

Come on God...

feed me...

 I dare you today (but one request--only the good stuff...)

okay?

THE AWARD FOR WORLD'S GREATEST HUSBAND.......GOES TO MY MAN!

Fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly,
I gotta love one man 'til I die,
So I can't help lovin' that man of mine.

Now, tell me he's lazy, tell me he's slow,
Tell me I'm crazy, maybe I know,
But I can't help lovin' that man of mine!

 Can't Help Lovin' That Man; Oscar Hammerstein - J. Kern, from Show Boat

Sometimes when things don't go the way I expect,

or the way I want,

or

I'm just in a bad mood...

I forget...

forget to remember to be grateful for my blessings,

forget to count them

and sometimes

even forget to remember that I have been blessed at all...

you probably have been there at some point in time, haven't you?

Today was my morning for a  pity party...
don't know why...it just was...
I had a doctors appointment early and it lasted
for an hour and a half longer than I had expected...
I got to work later than normal and then
had tons of stuff to do including a bit of work drama to clean up...
I had on my "I'm not gonna see good stuff" glasses today...
and the lenses were dark...
The kids were home sick from school...
and by the end of the day..
my throat was hurting and I did not feel great!
and I was tired from my weekend away and just wanted to
hunker down and sleep all morning because the Cecil Dog kept me awake barking and scratching on my door all night long but I had to go to work....and that didn't make me happy either.

It wasn't until I was walking on the treadmill forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other,
that it hit me...
and
when it did hit me..
I looked over at a friend of mine and said it..
aloud..
for everyone to hear...
"I am pretty lucky aren't I?   I have the best husband in the world, don't you think?

My friend nodded and said, "yeah you got yourself a pretty nice feller."

and
then I stood there and started thinking about
just how fortunate I am...

My husband is fun,
he laughs alot,
he loves his family and he loves me...
he loves me in spite
of
all my crazy and dysfunctional ways and even perhaps because of them,
He supports me in any endeavor or path I choose to take...
and
when things don't go just right..
I don't have to ask..
I know intuitively that he is in my corner,
rooting me on,
cheering the loudest in the way only the off color Big Daddy could cheer and everyday..
when I say..
watch what I can do.....
you always laugh, give me your approval and say,
yes, I know!!!!!

Today...he knew I had lots to do at work,
the kids were sick,
so he volunteered to stay home,
took both of them to the doctor,
cleaned the house (he is much better at that than me, anyway!)
and had something cooked to eat.
then
He'd rented movies he knew I wanted to see...

this weekend he did my family job for me....did laundry and had it folded and ready to be put up
when I got back in town from a visit with my family,
and
did I mention,
that even though he gets home late every night,
he always manages to get up to have coffee with me...because he wants to see me(sometimes I really think it is ESPN sports center or hearts on the computer..but he is up with me when he could be in bed)
he takes the kids to school and even better is the one who gets the wonderful job of waking up two teenagers,
and some days..when I am lucky or not
 he even packs me a mystery surprise for lunch....(willl never forget that egg chicken hotdog sandwich...yum)

and so,
honey,
even though I call you a lazy face, selfish food sometimes...
for today,
I realize
how lucky and blessed I am
because  I have you in my life.
Therefore,
you are awarded
the prestigious award
that I only give out on rare and special occasions....

the award for world's greatest husband
goes to
...
yeah you...
my man!

thankful for you and the love we share!

Riding the Bus.....

The wheels on the bus go round and round
Round and round, round and round
The wheels on the bus go round and round
All through the town

 

Riding on the bus….

Every morning on my way to work…

I see them…

Watch them as I get stuck behind that old yellow bus…#470 I believe.

Dad is always standing along side his green caravan.

As the bus stops,

He does the same thing

Every single morning…

Right when it stops,

He waves at the bus driver and then

Lickity split,

He pulls open the door of the van and in one

Quick loving swoop,

He scoops her up in his arms,

Lovingly,

Holding her against him

And he runs with her to the bus

And places her on the first step…

She always turns and

Waves…

And he stands there

Staring at her until the bus door closes,

Waving and smiling…

Like he is sending off his most precious treasure…

He then runs on to his next stop

Where I assume he goes to care for sick people in some form or fashion because he is always dressed in scrubs…

Every morning,

He gives me that warm and fuzzy feeling…

And reminds

Me of How

God must feel every morning when our feet hit the ground…

Can almost sense the smile I get and the wave that must occur when I head out the door….

Mr. Man at the bus stop with your little girl, with her blond hair..

What a good daddy you are..

I can tell by the way you stare at her…

Thank you for being my reminder every morning

That I go forth into the world

Anointed with a power of love…

That is so infused into my being that separating the wonder of

Where it starts and ends is uncomprehendable…..

Every morning as I dress

The power of Love moves over me,

Some days I notice and some days,

I’m a bit like that little girl…

I need the Creator,

To wipe the sleep from my eyes,

Scoop me up and wave me off

As the bus of life heads toward new horizons….

So thankful for a morning scene between a girl and a dad at the bus stop

Riding on the Bus…

Put on the bus…

Loved on the bus…..

With and by God…and once I’m on…

and The wheels on the bus go round and round….

Ps….egg number four has now hatched…I’m the proud observant nosy mama of

Four baby robins and their mom.

Resurrection It Happens....Over and Over and Over again. Happy Easter

Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
maya angelou

On Palm Sunday 1994, the congregation of Goshen Methodist Church, located in the foothills of Alabama were gathered in the sanctuary for an evening worship service.  Pastor Kelly Clem had her two daughters, 4 year old Hannah and two year old Sarah sit on the front row so she could keep an eye on them as she led the service.  Her husband Dale, campus minister for Jacksonville State College was leading a group of college students on retreat in Oklahoma.   With absolutely no notice, an F4 tornado arose in the middle of the service and hit the sanctuary directly.  Just about everyone there was injured in some way and when Kelly came to…she herself began digging through the rubble to find the children who had been sitting on the front row.  Each hand she pulled, she prayed would be her girls…..Sarah, the 2 year old was found with minor injuries…..but when she found Hannah…she tried for what seemed hours to remove the large concrete beam that had fallen atop of her.  Kelly Clem, said goodbye to her first born daughter that Palm Sunday in the midst of rubble and rain and turmoil.  When she was finally taken to the hospital for treatment…..she then had to get in touch with her husband Dale to give him the news……

It doesn’t seem right does it?  How and Why do things like this happen?

Or better yet…how do we survive them?

  It may have been a cool morning similar to this one when the women rose from their sleep to head to the tomb….They missed him already.

For They had traveled with him,

Eaten many meals with him,

They saw him as a vessel of God, saw him heal the sick, saw him eat with lepers and touch the untouchable

They knew him as a teacher and a friend,

And from their actions,

It is quite obvious that they loved this man very much.

I wonder what they were thinking?

what they were remembering about Jesus early that morning?….

They had walked the journey with him from Galilee to Jersualem

They surely must have seen him as he was tried. 

I bet they cried and  agonized as he was beaten by the powers of the time,

I’m quite sure they had stood at the foot of the cross, watched his body wither in pain,

They must have cried as he withered in pain, agonized along side him.

Stood there, as hard as it was as Jesus breathed his last breath that day…

followed behind as he was laid wrapped into an empty borrowed tomb….

Already, I bet they missed him,

Mourned him…..wanted just one more discussion,

One more teaching moment,

Wanted to experience his tangible love just one more time….

But he was gone and his body was now housed in the coldness of

A tomb was simply a carved out area in the side of a mountain with

A small place to lay the body.

They’d seen him placed there……but because of the lateness of the hour and because of the beginning of Sabbath,

They had not been allowed to anoint his body on that day for this was           was the custom of the day.

  So they, the women,  got up early the morning after the Sabbath and

They stirred their spices into a mixture of olive oil….and they began  their journey to the tomb…..an act of love….the one thing they could still do for their LORD

As The women arrived at the tomb…..

Already a stone had been rolled away…..they approached  the entry way…

A little puzzled they were….

and

As they entered……

Perhaps they were even afraid….….

Jesus was not there…..his body was missing!!!  Somebody had taken him and

He was gone…

Two men, perhaps messengers of the risen Lord, quickly said to the women…

Why are you looking for the living among the dead?

He is not here!!

Don’t you remember when he told you…

He would die and on the third day he would rise again….

He’s not here!!!!

Suddenly the women….remembered….and they went to share with all the others who had known and loved Jesus….

Jesus, the Christ…….was gone and left behind were only the remnants of his burial cloth and a cold empty dark tomb.

   The women were so excited they could barely contain themselves….they ran…ran to tell the others….

Peter himself couldn’t even begin to fathom their story and so he got up and ran to the tomb himself…

Seeing it for himself, he went home.  Amazed at the wonder of it all.

The story of the Clems was one of many that Palm Sunday….in all 19 families lost children and relatives in the midst of the rubble……

Kelly tells the story that a few days after the tornado hit, she was digging through the rubble praying and in the midst of it she had a mystical encounter where she saw all the children that had died, including her own daughter, running and playing and laughing amongst the rubble….she said it gave her comfort……

On Easter morning, the congregation of Goshen gathered at the sight…….another church had gathered there to serve breakfast after the Sunrise Service, another church had set up 200 folding chairs there on the lawn of the church……Strangers from all over the country had sent stuffed Easter bunnies and baskets and families had picked their loved ones up in wheelchairs to attend.   Everywhere they looked, Kelly said she saw signs of God’s hope.

“As they waited in the darkness, rays of rich amber and burnt orange began to creep over the mountains facing the church…….and something happened….they were flooded with hope like they never knew before”…..

After the service a reporter asked Kelly how she felt how the service went….

She said the strangest words came out of her mouth…..

“The sun rose”….she said those words stirred her…filled her with hope for a new day….The Son Rose”………………..

And that is who we are……a group of people…a group of Easter people…who struggle with the hard questions of life, wrestle for theological understanding and in the end…we surrender once again to the incredible Mystery of it all….and we find hope…

What an incredible morning….

The SON HAS Risen!!!!

The tomb is empty

Brothers and Sisters….

“resurrection happens…..

It did happen!

It does happen!

It will happen over and over and over again for all of us who believe in the good news of the Gospel!!!

Our Christ has risen!!!! And because of it….so can we….

Alleluia!!!  Alleluia!!! Alleluia!!!

New Beginnings.....they are here!

WE ARE HERE! WE ARE HERE! WE ARE HERE! WE ARE HERE!
-Whos (from Horton Hears a Who)

I came home from work yesterday and headed out on my back deck to let the dogs go outside.

I was in a rush and didn't have much time because my daughter had an appointment that we had to attend.

As the dogs rushed down the stairs, I glanced down between the boards to check on the eggs in the nest underneath my deck.  I could no longer see the four blue eggs...it only looked dark inside.  I felt myself panic...that damn raccoon I muttered aloud. 

I then got down on my hands and knees and squinted to see if any of the eggs had survived.

Oh what the surprise...

three tiny baby birds cuddled together on top of

one blue egg...

one so weak and wet, I must have just missed his hatching by only a few minutes...

I laid there on my deck,

face all squished to the floor

and

took in all the wonder of it all

I watched

the tiny featherless things

open their mouth in hopes that I was their mom...

one just kept begging...

he had big bulging eyes....

and that tiny little tuft of about three peach feathers on the top of his head...what a site this newborn life was...

oh my little friend

you are so cute.....actually you are so ugly..

your cute...

I ran to get my camera...to take a picture of a nest between a crack in the boards of my deck..

what you see above is the best result I got...but I really wanted you to see them as well....

my heart warmed..

I yelled for the kids..

my son was not excited at all...he was putting together our new lawnmower (we get one every year because my husband always leaves it out most of the year in the elements)

when my daughter came home..

she was just like me..

down on her knees,

staring at them

oohing and ahhing...

like they were her newborn brothers and sisters....

New Life now exists

underneath my second story deck...

I hear them moving and

see mom flying around searching for food...

I am worried about the late bloomer..

I hope he or she

just needs to rest and incubate some more...

I hope they make it..can't wait to watch them grow and see what they may teach me....

new life..

new beginnings..

new little wispy head feathers...

what a wonderful way to end a day,

end a week...

so thankful for their gift they have given to me..

I can't wait to see them in the morning.

They are here!  They are here!

Three tiny little miracles and

one little possibility.

more to follow.....

happy friday friends...

Celebrate New Life!

Feet, Water and Love....the touch that changes... Maundy Thursday sermonette at your service.



Feet, Water and Love

the touch that changes

      Rice was a poor man.  He didn’t have a job or a car and he often walked the dusty roads of the town.  As often as he could----- he’d  beg  along the way---never wanting food---only a little money so that he could drink away some of the pain he had going on inside……

     A few nights before Easter one year, Rice found himself standing outside that little white church listening to the sweetness of the singing that drifted out into the darkness of night.

Did he dare go inside?……

What might they do for him??

He looked down at his clothes realizing that he was not dressed the way his mama had taught him to dress when he went to church……….just a pair of old worn Levi’s and a dingy white T-shirt.

 And He stood staring and listening in the darkness—

He wondered:  Why  he thought tonight might make a difference………but something was pulling him……

Was it the music? 

 Was it the  need for human connection…………….or if the truth be told….perhaps he just needed to know God still loved him?….

His shaking hand surrendered to the mystical pull

and he reached out ---turned the door knob and stepped inside the church….into the light…Into the music…..into the warmth.  

    He scanned the place and hoped that no one might notice him as he slipped into the corner of the last pew…

The woman sitting on the end moved as he sat down on her pew and as she did he looked at his clothes. 

They looked much dirtier in the light and he really hoped that no one would see how dirty his feet looked in those old flip-flops of his. 

 As if to escape being in the midst of all those people dressed in their finery…He closed his eyes…and listened to the sweetness of it all…..listened as the preacher began to read that story about Jesus and his friends gathered around eating, listened to how Jesus washed feet and heard about how Jesus already knew about Judas and about love being important.

  It had been along time since he’d heard those stories about Jesus and and he felt himself leaning…

Leaning into the warmth of the words and the scripture and into the love of God…………..and for the first time in a very long time…..Rice felt his spirit begin to calm……
              They were just a rag-tag bunch….13 of them in all….

they had been traveling the dusty roads in Jerusalem…….and tonight  was the night before the Passover festival was to begin…

Most of them there gathered, except for Jesus, didn't have clue what was about to happen, even though he’d been preparing them for a very long time…….His time was getting close and tension filled the air……One of his friends was about to betray him…give him over to the government.  It must have saddened him ….

This would be the last supper that they would eat together……

and there they gathered………..reclining on the pillows along the floor….

….eating and drinking,

laughing and talking, food piled high—starved from their travels…………..

Jesus himself watching them……anointing them with unspoken love and hope….for he knew that after tomorrow, the mission would be left to them…….

……In the midst of it all…..Jesus got up……

took off his outer cloak began to prepare to wash their feet again……..

now typically washing feet always occurred when someone first arrived at a home….

it was a job reserved for the lowest of servants----

not a very pleasant thing you know……

the roads back then were all dirt and with the sandals and all……

well need I say more..it was not a job most people wanted……cleaning feet---dirty feet at that….was not the most pleasant job

But right there in the midst of dinner……the teacher…moves to the center and kneels down……and begins to wash their feet……

Preparing the disciples for traveling mercies if you may…….

………..It was an act of unity and intimacy……as he touched them---he became more a part of them….for to be touched by Jesus in such an intimate way was an incarnational act teaching about a deeper intimate love and offers them the possibility to experience a deeper spiritual grounding.

Jesus does not expect them to understand…..

He knows that their clarity will come in the days to follow………

A final act of service…..

As final gift to them……One final act of hospitality

and while he washed the feet of  all those gathered…….Jesus was also

also aware that one of the followers who he touched was going through the motions…..

Jesus knew that Judas would soon be about doing what he planned  do…and  he still him the chance to be part……. But as the last foot was dried,

Jesus said sadly  One of you is unclean!!!!

 For to be unclean represented a turning away from intimate union with God……

As Judas took the bread from Jesus, he departed into the darkness of night…..

 As Jesus  continued his teaching saying:

.Tonight…I give you a new commandment….that you love one another as I have loved you…….That is how they will recognize who you belong to…….you will love…..love them deeply…..

every one you come in contact with…………..They will know you by your love…….

Rice felt like he had found a place almost as comfortable as it used to be when he was a child sitting on his mamma’s lap at church….and as long as he kept his eyes closed….he didn’t find himself obsessing about all the other people…..…..hoping that he’d hear  God still loved him……still wanted him…..still cared about him even though his life was a mess.

As the minister finished talking about that night of Jesus’ arrest….He said Amen….and Rice opened his eyes for a peak of what was to come…….

And as he did the preacher invited everybody up front for a footwashing………The choir began to sing…...and the next thing he saw was people heading up toward the front with pitchers of water and towels and big basins……

He’d never seen any of that kind of stuff in church before……and so he found himself leaning into the air….squinting to catch a glimpse of what might happen next……..amazed he was…..people were forming a line….men and women and boys and girls

 sitting and taking off  shoes and socks…..

and once again he glanced down at his own unkept feet…..nails dirty…dust outlining the places where his flip-flop touched……

As he watched it all happen, he saw changes in peoples faces….some of them cried…some smiled….

…he didn’t get it…but it was obvious that something was happening…….

Rice found himself wanting…almost hoping that he could participate…but he  felt like he wasn’t good enough….

clean enough…..

rich enough….

welcome enough to enter into this communal ritual …..

So he sat there…elbows on his knees…eyes glued to the front…and.every so often…he’d see the preacher looking at him………

As most of the people began to put their feet back into shoes …

that old preacher walked t the back of the church and touched Rice on the back and then shook his hand…..

“glad to have you here…brother….”(brother…..Rice couldn’t remember when the last person shook his hand, let alone…..call him brother)….. “Brother, I know your new here…I was wondering if you’d let me wash your feet….”

Rice was reluctant at first….

scared of what people might say about him….

scared that he was too different……

.but he found himself rising….

feeling a little ashamed of who he was…..

but empty enough to risk it all as he walked toward the front.

As he sat down in that old metal folding chair….that preacher ….knelt down in front of him…and without flinching at the dirt on his feet or his unkept nails….removed those old flip-flops…..and gently placed Rice’s feet in the basin---pouring warm water over the top and then taking his calloused feet into his hands and massaging them in a way that connected Rice once again to a mystical kind of love…………..

Jesus must still love me,  Rice thought….

…..I don’t get it……but this water and this touch and this love----It doesn’t get much better than this…

He slipped his towel dried feet back into his flip-flops and

On the way back to his seat…others people  from the church shook his hand and smiled at him---even the woman who’d moved in the back smiled at him….

And Rice felt himself smile back------

When communion time came…Rice had no problem taking the little bread and drinking the cup….because for the first time in a long time he remembered the touch of Jesus and knew he was loved,

Just as Jesus touched all those disciples……

he also beckons us deeper into the mystery of the Season…………

Hanging between Palm Sunday and Easter….

Hanging between life and death and life again…..

Hanging In the Midst of fellowship and betrayal…..

Jesus reaches out …..

beckons us to stick out our feet and allow him to touch us……

wants to be an intimate part of us……It all starts with just a touch…..

and so as we gather around the table tonight to remember the wonder of our Christ……………….

let us Lean into the silence and be touched by Jesus…one more time…..

May it be so….for all of us…….Amen!!!

 Charge and Benediction

As we depart let the Spirit of Christ be with us all…..

Guiding us in the hour of trouble,

Awakening us from our sleep,

Help us to remember the cross of Jesus and

Face the crosses that we carry.

For as disciples—we must follow Jesus even in fear and fainting,

In spirit and flesh,

In life and death…

For we know….that wherever we go,

Whatever we do…

Nothing…absolutely nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ…..

Thanks be to God!!!

Amen.