Tonight our church is having a Tenabrae service. This may not seem that special to a lot of people, but it is to us because we don’t normally have these kinds of services. For us a return to tradition is deeply significant, because it means we are acting not out of habit but out of true desire and devotion. I’m working on a short reading to give in the first triplet of scripture reading. It’s still a little rough, but here goes:
If I were a disciple, I imagine, I would be endlessly devoted
I would sit at his knee day and night
I would center my life around memorizing his words
clarifying my memory
Asking questions and learning answers
casting aside every shadow
living in his pure light
I imagine myself head on his lap
Eyes to his eyes
Lips repeating every word, breath, rhythm, glance,
Until our souls were intertwined
I would devote myself to writing his story
Explaining to the world who he was
I would never hear him crying in the distance
I would be at his side
I would never deny him
I would be like a bride
I imagine these things
And then look at my life
The days that have passed without reading his story
The nights that go by without prayers into my pillow
The weeks and months that dwindle without devotion
And I wonder
Would I be the one to deny, to betray?
Would I be the one to look the other way?
Would I be the one who slept through his darkest hour?
In the garden, in the garden,
Would I realize the time, or let it pass away
into the cold ground
Distracted by myself?