Holy Week 2003

Maundy Thursday 2

She washed His feet whom they would have expelled,
And He washed theirs who seemed too stiff to give;
Her tears aspired where their reproach excelled,
Their protestations promised what she lived:
She saw Him from the angle of the stair
As she fetched towels and water from the fire;
He did not see her humbly standing there,
Her world's loves lost in heavenly desire. 

Teach us the value of the tiniest deed,
To know when pious lecturing must cease
And give way to the active care of need,
Where what is done, not said, provides release:
And may we not avoid the menial,
But serve without resentment or debate,
Not sheltering behind the spiritual;
For to be holy often means to wait.