Graymoor 3: Centerpiece

It's the end of our retreat day at Graymoor. We are still going to reflect on one more scripture. A different translation of Psalm 23. But time is short. So we can't meander anywhere on the grounds. We're to move about in the same room, each trying to find our own space. When we're done, we'll come back to the circle of chairs. It has a coffee table in the middle, with a makeshift centerpiece. While others walk, I stay and consider the centerpiece...

Two-by-four cross, patched together with a bandage of rainbow potholder weaving loops. A bed sheet wrapped at the base. And candles flickering through dusty amber gold glass— a circle of light and fragrance. Incongruence and congruence all on one table draped with a white, floral-textured tablecloth. Church, even here in this grey room— its grey walls, grey ceiling, grey carpet and lamps, grey doors.

Two-by-four cross patched together with a bandage of rainbow potholder weaving loops. No stage, no slick performance. Just a circle of candles, a circle of your people joined around this cross. Where the Shepherd became the Lamb.