ablution

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”
“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”
Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” ~ John 13:6-10 (NIV)

 

Perfection is a character defect...
an imperfect one perhaps,
but a dilly of one. We come dirty,
filthy, vile, disgustingly loathsome
but here we find cleansing, health,
ablution. We are purged of our foulness,
made whole, complete. But not perfectly,
not an unconditional warranty, not forever.
Surrender is not complete,

for we're not bound to the course,
not chained to love. We can stray,
wander through muddy waters,
wallow in a pigsty. And know it.
Fear it. Cringe at the thought.
So we cling to the cleansing
in fear, in desperation
refusing to accept our stumbling,
our wavering. We will be clean
if clean we can be, hold the ablution.
Or we about face back to perfectly putrid.