Round Three

(Continued from Fathers and those Who Folly.)

I stood up as Mark stuck on the last corner stamp. His handwritten postcard project was complete just as the priest turned the corner and was out of sight. The timing was perfect.

“Can you watch my laptop, baby?” I said, “I saw some scarves for sale in the alley. How much cash do you have?”

Mark handed me seventy shekels. Surely I could find one find one for under $20.

Moments before he departed, the man of the cloth had invited Mark and I to attend the foot washing ceremony. Remembering how our Lord and Christ washed the disciples feet, it was today. In thirty minutes the Maundy Thursday service (Խաւարման Գիշեր) commenced and I was in a wardrobe panic. There was no way I was missing this.

The Orthodox world welcomed head coverings for females. I was fine with that. Because after decades of intelligent lighting on me at the piano, prying red eyes of cameras, and the general over-production in the evangelical church world, I liked covering my head and operating under cover. My very being needed it. That small act of follicle submission somehow felt right. Humbling myself before the Holy, lined up with my soul’s pull of the ancient. But please don’t think me that spiritual because I was always in the market to purchase another pretty scarf to add to my silky collection.

However, there was no hope for Mark and his outfit outrage. He was in shorts, a well worn t-shirt, and a baseball cap and wasn’t walking the cobblestone three mile round trip to change for the Armenian service.

I was on my own and I kind of liked that.

“I think you will enjoy it,” our Father-friend had said to us back in the courtyard. “Sacred vestments from the museum will be worn today. They are very beautiful and it is rare for the public to see them in action.”

“Tell us more about the ceremony.” Mark had asked, “who will have their feet washed today?”

The Father paused.

Void of emotion he said, “Usually it’s down to whichever priest has sinned the most.”

He chuckled at his own wit.

We did too.

It was our third round of Holy Week.