one last meal

I tried to envision being in the room, in a corner, like a reporter, taking down notes and impressions during Jesus' last meal with his inner circle. I wrote this as part of a theater piece staged for a Good Friday service.  The stage was lit with what seemed like a thousand candles. But now imagine a lamplit Middle Eastern room from two millenia past, looking nothing like we in the West have imagined. Imagine being there in that moment, and reflecting on what you were seeing and hearing.

one last meal

with the noise of the throng
still pulsing in your brain
you pulled together your people
your inner circle
and took them
away

away from the melee and the white hot spotlight
away from the conspiracies in dark corners
the plots to kill
the intrigue the betrayal

away

away to breathe
to gather around a simple table
as brothers
as friends
for one
last
meal

as the night closed in
you bent down
and poured water over their feet
washed them clean
broke open bread and poured out wine

you blew their minds

your words rang so cryptic in their ears
they could hardly hear
through their fear

look at me--

look at me
keep your focus, you said
it will get dark
darker than this
darker than the blackest night
but trust what i've said
in the light

you know far more than you think you do
you are not abandoned
i will come for you
stay together
do not cave to fear
there is so much more here than meets the eye
your gasping pain will turn to joy

look at me
focus
stay as one
don't split up, don't scatter
when it all comes down
one thing matters

one thing you must remember

when my blood spills

when my body's cracked in two...

it's for you