Two Thursdays

A couple thousand years ago,
there was a Thursday dinner,
private, isolated, in a hidden room,
and the conversation turned philosophical:
what was really going on, how should we behave
toward one another, what did it all mean,
and finally, what was still to come.
Death and dying, persecution, sacrifice and love.
Lesson, analysis, symbolism, prophecy.
Two thousand years ago.

What better story to hear this Thursday,

or any Thursday in this lunatic world,
when we are so in need of love,
when we are surrounded by sacrifice,
when no one knows what to believe,
or what it means, or what comes next.
In our frustration, our anger, our bewilderment,
we are engaged in a community,
a forced communion with our unwilling neighbors,
with death and dying and with no way
to predict what lies ahead.

There is a Friday for us all, tomorrow,
but it is a comfort to believe, a comfort to remember:
we live on the verge of resurrection.