Holy Thursday 2016

A little language diversion? We usually call this ‘Holy Thursday,’ but you might occasionally hear the term ‘Maundy Thursday,’ especially in Britain. That comes from the Latin ‘mandatum,’ which means ‘mandate’ or ‘commandment.’ And what is the mandate Jesus gives us on Maundy Thursday? 

“You call me Master and Lord, and rightly; so I am. If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example, so that as I have done to you, you should also do.”

Duccio di Buoninsegna: Washing of Feet, detail.

This day is one of those days that packs so many meanings, you have to choose something to focus on in the sermon. It’s about the ordained priesthood. It’s about the gift of the Eucharist. It’s about the Agony in the Garden. It’s about the betrayal of Judas. All of these aspects are essential to Holy Thursday. If you like to think musically, it’s as though the whole year introduces different motifs and variations. Now we are arriving at the finale, and all the motifs return, weaving together, leading up to the climax of Easter Morn.

So when Jesus ties a towel around His waist and teaches one last lesson to His Apostles, we expect this moment to be wrapped up together with all the other moments of the Triduum. The washing of feet and the Eucharist explain each other. The agony in the garden and the washing of feet explain each other. The acceptance of the Cross and the washing of feet explain each other. It’s all woven together.

What the washing of feet, the mandatum, brings to the symphony is the note of humble service. What is about to happen to Jesus is something He accepts, even embraces, because it is what we need. That’s what Love does.

John records a brief conversation between Jesus and Peter that can teach us a lot about what Christian service is all about. It begins with Peter resisting the whole idea. “You will never wash my feet!” We know that Jesus has purposefully chosen the lowest, most humble, even perhaps demeaning task, for this lesson. Sometimes letting others serve you is hard. Like Peter, we want to resist.

I think most Christians are pretty well on board with the idea that we need to humbly serve others. Even if we aren’t so good at it, we’re on board with the idea. But I think fewer of us are on board with the idea of letting others humbly serve us. But we must, we must! There can be no Christian service if no one allows themselves to be served. And to insist that you are the special sort of person who refuses to be served, well, the word for that isn’t ‘humility.’

Think of a silly case, two people arriving together at a door. “After you!” “No, after you!” “No, I insist!” “No, I insist, after you!” And so on. Eventually, one gets the impression that this is not about humility after all. When humility becomes a competition, it’s not humility anymore. When humility becomes a display, it’s turned into pride. Wouldn’t you agree that there’s such a thing as ostentatious humility?

We can consider other examples that are not so trivial. There is a word I hear sometimes from older people that rips my heart in half. I have a physical reaction to this word, down in my stomach and guts, when I hear it from my elders. The word is ‘burden.’ As in, “I don’t want to be a burden.” Dear elders, if you will ever condescend to be taught by some whippersnapper priest, please believe me: this is blasphemy. Whatever has made you feel that way, anything we’ve done or said, please forgive us. But if you love your brothers and sisters in Christ at all, please don’t deprive us of this essential service.

In age or in sickness we can find ourselves needing to be served in ways that make foot-washing seem downright appealing by comparison. Those times ask of us a profound, difficult, wrenching humility. We must find it, with God’s help. Jesus answers Peter’s objection, “if I do not wash you, you have nothing in common with me.” Do you see how that’s true? When we refuse the help of others, we cut ourselves off from them. We break communion.

Peter, bless his heart, now immediately overreacts in the opposite direction. “Well, then, wash my hands and head, all of me!” There’s something really lovely about this enthusiasm. He’s allowing himself to be corrected and taught, and showing how communion with Jesus is so important to him. But Jesus’ response to this is that Peter’s hands and head don’t need washing: “No one who has taken a bath needs washing, he is clean all over.” I’ve puzzled and puzzled over this exchange, and I’m sure there’s a lot more to it than I understand, but… for one thing, isn’t it awfully practical? Maybe that’s the point of it: the practicality.

See, Peter is thinking in terms of a big show. He’s thinking about a grand gesture. And that’s the kind of service we’re often attracted to. We like the idea of the grand gesture. You know, ‘I’d catch a grenade for you,’ stuff like that. But that attraction has a lot of egotism in it. There may be real love behind it, absolutely, but there’s also egotism. We like the idea of ourselves as that heroic person. We’re attracted to the glamorous and grandiose. But pure love leaves the ego behind. It doesn’t care about the heroic status or the grand gesture. It only cares about what the other needs. Peter’s second impulse is as human and understandable as his first; he wants to make a big show out of this. But Jesus isn’t after a show. He’s just giving what Peter needs. Because he needs it. His hands and head are clean; he washed them earlier. His feet? Well, he walked here. In sandals. And there are camels and stuff. You can figure it out.

“I have given you an example; as I have done for you, so you also must do.” Remember this as we proceed through the Triduum. This is not about Jesus performing some great dramatic gesture; it’s about love. Later tonight we will overhear Him asking His Father, “if it be possible, let this cup pass from me.” He doesn’t walk this path because it’s the help He feels like giving. No, He walks this path because we need Him to.

What happens now is, to begin with, a show. But it can be more than a show if we take the lesson, if we take it out those doors and obey the Lord’s last great command. For real. There is so much need.