“Pray, brothers and sisters,
that my sacrifice and yours
may be acceptable to God,
the almighty Father.”
Tall and handsome.
Big and powerful.
Profound and exciting.
A great adventure starring a great hero.
Doing the dishes.
Just the right combination of hot and cold.
Mostly hot of course.
And the cold, that splash of sobriety so we don’t get burned.
“In the Name of our Lord Jesus Christ crucified, I commence the dishes…”
The sponge is important.
It need be clean and effective.
For how can one wash with something dirty?
And yet, even the best is hardly perfect.
After a single use it’s bound to show signs of deterioration.
So you add more soap and hope for the best.
“Our Father, who art in heaven…”
The circular motion of water, upon and around each dish.
Turn, turn, turn…
Rinse, rinse, rinse…
Like the axis of the earth.
The equator slightly tilting back and forth.
Side to side, to ensure proper runoff.
Such a delicate balance.
Then put aside to dry.
Sunlight works best.
“Hail, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…”
The drain cannot be ignored.
The little netting, catching all sorts of iniquities.
Now very clean hands.
Cleansed thru humility.
The dignity of work.
To grab what has been left below.
The rejected, the unwanted, the forgotten food.
A Eucharistic portion.
Not washed into the drain.
Yet separated from what is considered clean.
“Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”
I find two towels work the best.
One, somewhat clean, to wipe down the faucets and the edge of the sink.
The other to dry shriveled-up hands.
And to be hung, upon the little bar.
The one that crosses the oven door.
Awaiting the warmth.
The warmth that bakes our daily bread.
“May the Body of Christ keep me safe for eternal life.”
It is all really very simple.
Short and simple.
He died. We live.
We die. He lives.
One dirty dish at a time.
One Eucharistic encounter at a time.
“Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.”
“Thanks be to God.”