My soul is hungry for the Triduum.
I understand, in a way not quite like previous years, that I need to walk this path of the Three Holy Days. This year. Today.
I'm not just duty-bound as a Christian; neither do I feel an overwhelming obligation as a priest who leads her congregation.
There is a hunger, a strange rumble in my soul. It's not a bad thing. It's not a premonition of something bad or a portent of impending doom or evil.
I just especially need to be with Jesus this year, as he has a Last Supper with his disciples, before which, he washes their feet. I need to watch in distress as Judas betrays him. I need to watch and pray with Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane tonight.
This morning, I feel this most urgently: I need to have my feet washed.
A strange thing to say, eh? And, not just because it is an important reminder of the profound nature and character of servant ministry.
There is something more. Something deeper. Something moving without direction, like an electron's path can seem random and bizarre, and yet it moves in the direction it is supposed to with a precision and dedication that belies its seemingly chaotic movement.
I have found myself turning to a prayer written by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her wee but powerful little bookie, "The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die."
It is my prayer for the day. I share it with you and pray that it may be a source of inspiration and comfort on this, the first day of the Triduum.
Refuse to fall down.
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled,
and it will be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you
from lifting your heart
toward heaven -
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.