21st June 2016

As one whose culinary skill reaches to the height of baked-beans on toast, I was impressed by those master-chefs who can juggle more than two ingredients and plate them in an appetizing way. Clever! But in a recent episode of MasterChef, contestants vied with each other to not only out-plate each other, but for the right to wear the so-called power apron. That said piece of white apparel with the golden insignia was promised to give them great advantage over their pastry peers.

The Good Book tells a story about a power apron. An evening meal was being served. There was lamb, herbs, bread, and wine on the table. And those who gathered to share the meal did so to remember better days when the hope of freedom hung in the air. But some of the preparations for the meal were still incomplete. The guests still needed that grace, according to eastern hospitality, of having their dusty feet washed in order that they might comfortably recline at the table. But no one was found to step down to the duty.

Until someone put on the power apron. The Host! But not to direct someone else to the task, but to get down on his own hands and knees and do the task himself. It was not what anyone had expected, for no one had ever seen power exercised in this way. And it still remains in a master class of its own.

DM 21^st June 2016