This world is a...

Dropped Pie

The world is like a dropped pie most of the time. Don’t kill yourself trying to put it back together. Just grab a fork and eat some of it off the floor. Then carry on.”

Elizabeth Gilbert

This is Holy Week in the Christian Churches; in fact, today is Maundy Thursday when most churches would be reenacting the Last Supper when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples. The betrayal is set in motion with Judas being told to go and do what he needs to do. Most of the church websites I looked at had some version of hand washing, since we’re in the middle of a pandemic and supposed to be doing that anyway. The more creative sites had parishioners with various colors of water-based paint on their hands rather than the dust of ancient Palestine. That made a colorful display. Since we are in lock-down, we must use our imagination to see the scene. We can make a communion meal of bread and wine and remember that tomorrow is Good Friday and the crucifixion.  

This is a strange Holy Week but maybe it’s not all together bad. Yesterday, I went to Wal Mart to buy groceries. I was pleasantly surprised at how many people, both workers and customers, were wearing masks and gloves, as I was. I had two encounters there that left an impression on me. In one isle, two employees were restocking shelves, and one of them must have said something to a young woman who was not wearing a mask. In response, she shouted an angry rant that went something like this: “I don’t wear one because I worship the God of Life! Satan is the God of Death! I don’t worship Satan. I worship the God of Life!” I felt sorry for the poor girl on the receiving end of this, but I just hurried on knowing that this pie had already hit the floor and there was nothing I could do about it. Later, I was in the cat food aisle when a young man, a boy, really, came up and asked me if I could spare some change so he could buy a drink. Normally, I don’t give money to panhandlers, but something about this child made me reach in my purse. All I had was a $20, and he apologized for asking and started to walk away. When I handed him the bill, he stared at me in disbelief, then said, “Bless your heart, lady.” It felt like the best blessing I had ever received.

As I walked away, I was mentally examining my response to this young man, berating myself really, telling myself that I shouldn’t have done it, he’d probably just go buy drugs with it, and so on. But then I checked my cart—besides the groceries, I had a $12 bag of bird seed, six cans of cat food, and two bottles of wine. I thought to myself, I spend more than $20 on food for the birds every month, more on food for a feral cat, and more still on wine. Surely, I can spare twenty-bucks for a child of God.

Holy week calls upon us to examine our spiritual pilgrimage. Right now, this world is a pie turned upside down. It is a mess when people who call themselves Christians yell in anger at other people in a supermarket. I don’t even know what to make of it anymore, so I’ve given up trying. I’m just going to grab a fork and eat some of that sweet mixture off the floor and then go about my business. I hope you will join me.

                                        In the Spirit,

                                        Jane