Holy Thursday, April 17, 2025

Jesus shows us how to live a life of service to others

John 13:1–5

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus answered, "You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand." Peter said to him, "You will never wash my feet." Jesus answered, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" Jesus said to him, "One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you." For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, "Not all of you are clean." After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, "Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord-and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

MUSIC MEDITATIONS FOR HOLY THURSDAY:

Whatever You Do For the Least of My Brothers--Alstott, Batastini and Jabusch

I am the Bread of Life—Toolan

Your Will—Tony Eiras

Companions for the Journey

from “FIRST IMPRESSIONS” , a service of the Southern Dominican Province:

Chapter 13 in John brings a major shift in this gospel. It closes the first part called “the Book of Signs”, the account of Jesus’ public ministry. Now we enter the second half of the gospel, called the Book of Glory (ch. 13-17). The word “love” is a key word in this section: Jesus will call his disciples to love and will show them the kind of love he has in mind by offering himself for them. The grain of wheat will die and bear much fruit, as he predicted (5th. Sunday of Lent). The opening verse of this section (13:1) links the final hours of Jesus’ life with the Passover. (Hence the choice of the first reading from Exodus, the account of the origins of the Passover. Jesus will die at the hour the Passover lambs are slaughtered for sacrifice in the Temple.) There is something about what is going to happen to Jesus, his long-awaited “hour”, that is going to complete the meaning of the Passover. The blood of the lamb painted on the lintels of their doors saved the Jews from the angel of death. The blood of this Lamb is going to save all from the death that sin has caused. Jesus isn’t just setting a good example for us as he washes his disciples feet; what he is initiating from this point on in the gospel will save us from the pervasive power of sin over our lives.

Foot washings were a part of hospitality in this culture. The roads were dusty and guests coming for a visit or meal would welcome the chance to have the dust from the road washed from their feet. Normally the washing would have been done before the meal and was the task of the youngest or lowliest servant or slave. The importance of the event is underscored by Jesus’ breaking the pattern of what was customary and acceptable: he interrupts the meal and does the washings himself. His final hour is at hand and he is already emptying himself. His dying has begun; our new life is about to begin. In fact, a sign of the community’s new life brought about by Jesus’ action will be that they will be “foot-washers”, servants to the needy among them. But much more is implied by his actions. Peter objects to Jesus’ humiliation in front of his disciples, he does not want his feet washed. But Peter is no dummy. Maybe he also sees what is implied in Jesus’ actions: if the Master is doing this then Peter may already suspect that the disciples will have to do likewise—himself included. Jesus insists that if Peter is to have any part in his inheritance, he must allow Jesus to wash his feet. And sure enough he learns that the “inheritance” will include washing the feet of others, being a lowly servant in the household where Jesus dwells. However, he will not be required to have a total bath again. As the disciple travels through life in the world, he/she picks up soil from the road. A full bath (another baptism?) is not necessary; but a washing is. We can be washed from our sins and refreshed and renewed as we sit down to the table with other disciples to eat the Passover meal of Jesus.

John is writing for a community like our own who, since their baptism, have many things from which they need cleansing. This account is encouraging for the community members who have failed, as Peter did, to live up to their Christian calling. After he betrayed Jesus, Peter must have been heartened by his remembrance of this incident and the possibility Jesus holds out to be washed from the soil of the road. Since the incident also took place at the table, the suggestion is that forgiveness is offered us through the meal we share in remembrance of Jesus. In our Eucharist, the first thing we do is ask for forgiveness of our failings. It’s as if each eucharistic meal begins with a foot washing. And we are the grateful recipients as we are reminded that what Jesus did for Peter, he does for us.

Thus, there is another way we can imitate the example of the One we call “teacher and master.” We can follow the example he set for us. Besides the call to service, so evident in the foot washing, another response Jesus may be asking of us tonight is to forgive one another as he has forgiven us. Since the ritual will be performed in many places of worship this day, we may want to look around at who else is present at the table with us and wash their feet by forgiving them what we hold against them.

Reflection Questions:

In what aspect of my life would I be ashamed to have Jesus see my “dirty feet”?

When I don’t understand God, do I get impatient?

Whose “feet” am I called to wash in this life of mine?

What does this gospel tell me about the connection between service to others and the Eucharist?

Meditations:

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Imagination:

I read Matthew 26:36-46 (The agony in the garden). I imagine that I was one of the disciples asked to accompany Jesus as he went to the garden of Gethsemane to pray. I had plenty to eat and drink, and the night was so quiet. I could hear the far-off laughter from other homes as people celebrated the seder meal. I could hear animals rustling in the dark, and then the quiet, even breathing of my two companions. In the dimness, I could see the shape of Jesus all by himself in a distant part of the Garden. He was sort of hunched over, folded in on himself. He seemed alone. I must admit that I was a little pleased when asked to be one of those to accompany him outside, but I felt a little rejected by his desire to go off alone. Why did he ask us to come in the first place? Sometimes, that man was an enigma. The others and I started to talk, but the conversation seemed flat somehow. I tried then to pray, but I kept falling asleep. He came back a couple of times and quietly woke us, but just as quietly he returned to his former position far from us. We were so embarrassed to be caught napping, but, really, there was nothing to do. Only later did we come to realize what Jesus was doing and what agony he was going through. After the soldiers came, I couldn’t look him in the eye; I was so ashamed. I often wonder what Jesus thought as he prayed there in the garden. I wonder if he thought we let him down in some way? I will never be able to explain or apologize for my failure. I often wonder what I could have done for him had I known. Every now and then, the scene returns to my mind and try to share with Jesus my thoughts and feelings about his agony. Somehow, I think he understood and still understands.

by Anne Greenfield from Songs of Life: Psalm Meditations from the Catholic Community at Stanford

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:

From Sacred Space 2022, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

In these quiet moments, I imagine Jesus visiting with me, chatting, and then asking for a basin and a towel. Surprised, I ask “why?” He says “You will understand later!” Can let him kneel and wash my poor feet, just as they are? Am I moved, perhaps to tears, by what he does? Perhaps no one has ever done this for me since I was a child. After a silence, he explains that he himself lives out a life of loving and humble service, and that he wants me as a disciple to copy what he has done for me. I ask him to show me, day by day, whose needs he wants me to meet. I bring him with me whenever I serve others.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship:
Has there been a time in your life when you were treated unfairly? How did you react?

Have you ever counted on friends to be with you in a stressful time in your life? Were they there for you or did they "fall asleep"?

Peter denied Jesus three times. Recall a time when you found it difficult to witness to the values you believe in.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

Today’s gospel speaks of Jesus’ last meal, and it can lead us to think about the

growing crisis of world hunger. "Rising food prices are fueling the global

hunger crisis. It is taking an immense toll on the world's poorest people, who

typically spend up to 80 percent of their income on food. As many as 100

million more poor people could be made worse off by this burgeoning hunger

crisis. After 30 years of progress against hunger and poverty, that is a setback

that the United States and the rest of the world cannot afford to let happen."

http://www.bread.org/learn/rising-food-prices.html

"The prayer which we repeat at every Mass: "Give us this day our daily bread,"

obliges us to do everything possible, in cooperation with international, state

and private institutions to end or at least reduce the scandal of hunger and

malnutrition afflicting so many millions of people in our world, especially in

developing countries." (Sacramentum Caritatis, Pope Benedict XVI, 2007)

Did you know?

- 854 million people across the world are hungry, up from 852 million a year

ago

Every day, almost 16,000 children die from hunger-related causes--one child

every five seconds.

-35.1 million people in the US---including 12.4 million children---live in

households that experience hunger or the risk of hunger.

-The U.S. Conference of Mayors reports that in 2006 requests for emergency

food assistance increased an average of 7 percent. The study also found that 48

percent of those requesting emergency food assistance were members of families

with children and that 37 percent of adults requesting such assistance were

employed.

What can you do?

Poetic Reflection:

How do you think Jesus felu on this night, when Peter, and maybe the others, still did not understand what he was teaching?;

LONELY CHRIST

Lonely Christ

I pray to you.

You are a puzzle to me

as those I love

always are.

My soul is at odds

with the words.

What mad reach of mine

touches any thread of you?

Or what of mine, arms or eyes,

ever shares with people

where they may lie--

as they always do--i

in a hard place!

What of mine shall make good

their taking of a breath,

their rising, caring, feeding

their sleeping in fear--

what shall make good

their slight faith,

their enormous promises

made in iron

for a child, man, a woman--

what of mine shall be with the people

as they caress a special grief

fondled again and again

In bludgeoned love?

What do I bring

with which to clutch

the merest hint of your shadow?

Poetic Reflections:

Read the following poem by W.S. Di Piero (from The Restorers). Have I ever disappointed or betrayed anyone? How did it feel?

“Gethsemane”

He had nerve enough to follow,
dogging his heels, for what? To learn
a new vocabulary, a prayer,
down there in yellow iris that smelled
like carcass? He came back smiling.
The dog had its day, rolling in meat.
This meat was news: The Word of God
wants what we want, to be unchosen.

He must have made up his mind then
What if he said, I don't see Him here,
we’ll check later? Instead he gagged
on words, like a mouthful of water
brought from the garden, that blood squirms
from the blossom loads and cracked boughs,
and in the stagnant lake of the heart
the sprouting trunk splits, groans,
spilling wine, the spongy dirt
inhaling any blood that falls,
and I'm falling into the tree
and dogs at lakeside bark at clouds.

Like that. As if his own speech could
infuriate time while he waited
for an act to come upon him
(as joy sometimes happens). The soldiers
(were they his joy?) got impatient.
So finally his bloodless lips
screamed More life! More salt!
before he gave away his kiss.

Now read the following poem by Mary Oliver. How is its tone different?

“Gethsemane”

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on his feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe
the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move.
Maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be part of the story.