Friday, March 29, 2013


First post in what hopes to be a regular blog.  I hope it, the blog hopes it.  No specific agenda outside of my thoughts and experiences on life in New Orleans and as a spiritual and human being.  Named for Walker Percy, a favorite author and spiritual seeker who found his grounding both in semiotics and probably by extension the Catholic Church.  Far from Catholic, I am a spiritual being and child of God first, Christian second, Episcopalian third.  Love for all three.
Good Friday as good a day to start as any, our world full of paradoxes already.
In the Christian tradition Maundy Thursday is the day to imitate Christ as servant, when he confused his disciples by washing their feet, proving his point that to embody his passion we must act as he, and serve one another.  Foot washing in our time is more ritual than necessity, and even with our socks and fancy closed-toed shoes some among us wince and cringe at the thought of bearing their feet to a "stranger."  But it is precisely the act of foot washing that brings us into relationship with one another.  It requires intimacy, trust, vulnerability.  To forsake this ritual is to forsake Christ's passion, and his call to us.  It is to choose an a la carte faith instead of a comprehensive one.  At least Peter resisted because he felt unworthy, not because he was worried about someone messing with his feet.  We cannot truly serve each other without trust, intimacy, and vulnerability.  We also cannot be Christians or people of faith only on our terms.  Christ calls me to serve you, but I cannot if you are unwilling to  allow it.  What inhibits us from being served?  Pride, fear, mistrust, insecurity.  These are powerful instruments that tear at God's love.  We MUST become uncomfortable.  We are called out of our comfort zone, particularly in Holy Week, to recognize that Christ modeled the life of sacrifice and servitude he wants for us.  We must ask ourselves, "what if it was Christ who was asking to wash my feet?"  And then we must realize that it IS Christ who is asking.  And we must take a deep breath, extend our foot, and feel the cold water anoint us.


  1. AMEN. I have been wearing these new five-finger shoes for about a month now, obviously without shoes, and last night my feet stunk like a hundred locker rooms. I decided to bare the toes and go on up anyway, and that my footwasher would be in a transcendental state of meditation, oblivious to any of their five senses. That person turns out to be a 12-year-old youth group girl. We giggled for a bit and washed each others' feet, and as we hugged at the end, I felt like we 'got it.' it was an uncomfortable and vulnerable moment, and therefore, perfect.

  2. Nice. Feet really make it all very real. I wonder too if Peter initially blanched at the service he was being called to, just as most of us instinctively pull back from the call to take up our cross and head toward Jerusalem. What a graced place that moment of vulnerability can be if we push ourselves through. Thanks for this.