Tears and towels

Everything was just right
Crockery and cutlery ritually clean
Food strictly kosher
Each guest in their proper place
Orders of precedence observed.
Conversation turning to higher things

Then a murmur of disapproval
as the calm is broken,
a stranger come amongst them
a woman at that.
The distraction of scent and sexuality.
She can't be a member.

"I know I'm not good enough
but they won't notice me.
If I'm found they'll turn me away
I'll be rejected again
but it won't be the first time.
Only wanted when needed
only loved when used
Every time you think love is forever
every time you lose a bit of yourself.

"If I can just get close to him
If I can touch the hem of his robe
But the tears blind my eyes
as they sprinkle his feet
and I've no towel but my hair."

And the murmur grows louder
as right is proclaimed.
The woman must go
lest she sully the feast
with her earthy perfume
and the smell of her sex.

But Jesus stands up:
"Let her go free
Just bring me a towel.

"Have you, Simon, forgotten,
How you were caste out:
a leper unwelcome
till healed by a love
that cured by including
enfolding and healing.
Does your healing enable
your feelings of grandeur?
That you are entitled
to judge and condemn
those not yet whole:
to despise and exclude them."

So he took up the towel
and began to wash the feet
of all those at the table.
Till he came up to Peter

"Not me.
Wash them Lord not me."

"Yes you Peter,
especially you.
This woman has known love
and has shown love.
If you don't accept love
How do you expect to give love."

"Then it's not just my feet
That need to be washed
but my mind and my heart
both need to be cleansed."

"Too right," said Jesus
"Too right."

©Peter G Ashby 2008