Late Have I Loved You

by Artist Eye  

He who wraps the vault of heaven in clouds
girds Himself with a towel;
He who holds in His hands the breath of all that exist
kneels down to wash the feet of His servants

I love these verses from a canticle for Holy Thursday. Whenever heaven takes on earth so dramatically I suddenly begin to see my own little corner of the world infused with brightness. On Holy Thursday the Guardian of All Souls will sit down to supper with me and my companions and we will likely speak of how we ourselves have been delivered. We all have a story to tell. We may not all have fled from the same ancient foes, but there has never been a shortage of tyrants and totalitarians, famine and financial disaster, to say nothing of the calamities of our own makings and the rotten fruits of our own hubris. At supper each of us can retrace the steps and recall the Face that went before us to lead us out of Egypt, out of darkness, out of fear, and out of foolishness. Because we will hear again the promise: As all die in Adam, so all will be brought to life in Christ.


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