What Frames The Sacred

Is just as sacred

This week’s Sated Soul is inspired by Mark Nepo’s poem, “Under the Temple.”

I highly recommend the book The Wonder of Small Things: Poems of Peace and Renewal by James Crews. It’s a wonderful read, especially in a time such as this. Crews compiled some of the most wonderful poems about “small things” that are, as you can imagine, not so small at all when properly examined. He offers his own responses and some glorious reflective questions as well.

The one from his book that captured me recently:

Under the Temple

by Mark Nepo

The temple hanging over the water is

anchored on pillars that nameless workers

placed in the mud long ago. So never forget

that the mud and the hands of those workers

are part of the temple, too. What frames the

sacred is just as sacred. The dirt that packs

the plant is the beginning of beauty. And

those who haul the piano on stage are the

beginning of music. And those who are

stuck, though they dream of soaring,

are the ancestors of our wings.

What frames the sacred is just as sacred. That’s the line that hit me squarely between the eyes. Nepo reminds us of the convicting truth that we are part of everything we build.

Nepo’s poem evokes in me the image of a name scratched into wet concrete. Our desire to mark ourselves in time and space, to be part of building the future- a future we know we won’t see. Even the smallest contributions still make up the frame of what it is we are building. I think of the beauty of the meal that will be served starting with the field workers harvesting the crops. The sermon that lands just so, is fueled by the theologian’s husband refilling her coffee, ensuring she has the time, the space, and the room to minister well.

It brings to mind the question of whether I want my handprints to be on what I am building. Is it in alignment with my values? Are my handprints in the mud of creating a better society for everyone, not only myself? Can I be proud of what and how I am building in this sacred life of mine?

What Will You Do With Your Hands?

Inspired by “Under the Temple” by Mark Nepo

Aren’t we all building something?

Growing something,

dreaming?

The tomatoes I’ll grow, the plans I’ll make.

Aren’t we all part of something? What have our hands touched,

molded, fitted for good use?

Have you swept the crumbs from a well-loved table,

left the residue of your love in the grateful handshake of a stranger?

Have you fed a bird or palmed a scared mouse, or

squished the cheeks of your beloved, gathering the whole of them in your grasp?

Have you slowed down enough so your mother could hold your hand as you walk?

Have you packed a friend’s whole life into boxes after her divorce,

and known she’d do the same for you?

Maybe you’ve kneaded bread, felt the dough give beneath your hands, or thumbed a pie crust into a perfect crimp.

Maybe you’ve pushed a stranger’s car out of a snow drift or caught a loose dog aimed for peril.

Maybe you’ve held warm mugs, cold railings, or the heart of another.

May your hands frame what is sacred, and know that all you touch

is sacred too.

Our hands and the “mud” on them will forever be part of what we are building. So, are we building something sacred? Are we building, as my friend Erica would say, something that is in the service of love?

A question to ponder: What unseen or uncelebrated work of your hands do you want to honor? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

If this piece touched you, pass it along. We build community just as we build anything else—with small, sacred gestures.