NeuroDivine

Earlier yesterday came the ritual of cleaning the bathroom.

The toilet needed scrubbing. The sink needed cleaning. Nothing spectacular happened. No one would notice much once it was done, though everyone would notice eventually if it were neglected.

Later, we realised that, as a family, we had managed to use every towel in the house. Fortunately, it was a good drying day. We washed them in turn, hung them on the line, brought them in from the sun, and took time to fold them.

There was nothing remarkable in that either. Yet both tasks were forms of care.

The Work That Sustains

We often speak about finding Christ in beauty: in birdsong, candlelight, stained glass, or evening skies. But Christ is also present in the necessary things—the work that keeps a shared life clean, ordered, comfortable, and cared for.

Jesus knelt with a towel and basin to wash his disciples’ feet. He did not avoid the physical and practical work of love. He entered it.

Perhaps “where two or three are gathered” includes a household quietly doing what needs to be done. Not gathered for formal worship, but gathered in responsibility for one another:

• Cleaning the toilet
• Washing the towels
• Hanging them in the sunlight
• Folding them when dry

The Unbroken Sacred

Benedictine life teaches us not to divide the sacred too sharply from the ordinary. Prayer has its appointed hours, but the whole day belongs to God. A toilet brush, a washing line, and a pile of clean towels can all become part of the day’s offering.

Holiness is not always beautiful to look at. Sometimes it is simply doing the necessary thing with attention and love.

And perhaps Christ was there throughout: in the scrubbing, in the sunshine, and in the folding.

Part of the NeuroDivine reflection series—finding sacred presence in everyday patterns, routines, and quiet forms of care.