The Bowl And Towel

9 Apr

It seems like only yesterday
I got this bowl and towel.
The bowl is cracked, the towel worn thin.
I would have wagered there and then
I’d never use these things.

We sat at table with our Lord
and talked of happy times.
The meal was done, the hour late,
we all began to speculate
about what he would say.

But when he stood and turned to move
toward one end of the room,
with no word said, he turned his back,
picked up a bowl and from a rack
removed a common towel.

The room was now completely still.
He walked to Peter’s chair,
there knelt and from a pitcher near
poured water  cool and crystal clear,
then reached for Peter’s foot.

“My Lord, what are you doing? Please!
It’s I who should be there.
I cannot let you wash my feet!
It is not right for you to treat
your servant in this way.”

“If you refuse to take my gift
you’ll not be one with me.”
“Oh, Master, please! I cannot live
without the love and hope you give.
Wash feet and head and hands.”

From Peter, Jesus moved  to all
and washed our dirty feet,
then called each one of us by name,
and one by one to him we came
to get a bowl and towel.

My earthen bowl is smooth with age,
my towel is frayed and torn.
But these I cherish more than gold
for they remind me how he told
that we must do the same.

The years have gone, and so has he.
No longer can we share
an evening meal, a pleasant song,
a desert breeze, his handshake strong.
Just these of him remain.

 

2 Responses to “The Bowl And Towel”

  1. gz April 9, 2020 at 6:52 am #

    Yes, His love for others but also His humility.

  2. Barb Sargent April 9, 2020 at 11:50 am #

    Beautiful!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: