A meditation on the preparation of the Upper Room
I see sorrow in Your eyes.
I want to stay with You now more than ever,
especially as I feel the weight
of Your recent talk of death.
But I want more to do whatever You tell me.
And so I go and spend a Thursday,
one unlike any other before or since,
in the littlest of work.
I dust ledges,
I sweep a floor,
I prepare a table.
Just what You have told me to do.
I didn’t know You were allowing me to prepare
an altar –
that tangible surface, yes,
but much more.
A place deeper and deeper still.
In me.
The simplicity stilled my storm to a whisper,
the littleness then begot a true silence,
and, in that quiet, space was made and prepared.
Space of longing,
yearning,
needing.
An altar.
To receive the sacrifice.
To bear the gift.
How I wonder, even years and decades later,
at how You gathered us up
and into Yourself
in this humble, hidden way.
Oh Lord, I am not worthy.
But You are.
Sr. Magdalene, CFR Novice