lenten journal: layers

we gathered for dinner on
this penultimate thursday
because this is the night that
we eat dinner together
for no other reason than
we eat dinner together.

fourteen around the table—
a couple more than were there
the night Jesus broke the bread,
poured the wine and spilt his love
all over his friends, hoping
they would see beyond the dark.

they went out to the mount of
olives; our friends stayed awhile,
finished their wine and stories;
then they rose a little more
healed and alive, and went forth
from the porch into the night.

as we washed the last dishes,
recounted conversations,
and put up the leftovers
I wondered who came to clean the
upper room, and what they made
of the scattered crusts and cups.

the archaeology of
friendship and faith reveals
layers of our gathering
and grief, our hopefulness and
heartache, that go as far back
as the stories and suppers,

let us set the table for
those who will follow and take
their places for supper;
whether the first or last meal,
the table has been prepared—
oh, come, all is now ready.

Peace,
Milton