Homily for Thursday, 2 April 2015– Holy Thursday, Evening Mass of the Lord's Supper

Readings of the day: Exodus 12:1-8, 11-14; Psalm 116:1-13, 15-16bc, 17-18; 1 Corinthians 11:24-26; John 13:1-15

When have we ever felt vulnerable; at the mercy of one or more other people? How many of us, if we think for a moment, realize that we enter the world as vulnerable; at another’s mercy? We begin in our mother’s womb, and we are born weak and totally dependent on others’ care. Who here has held a newborn child, and so knows very well of what I speak? We grow from newborns to older children, and then we become… teenagers: Again, an extremely vulnerable time!

And then who here remembers their first love? Who here is married? When you were married, you made yourself vulnerable; put yourself at the mercy of a person you love, for life. Other sacraments and rituals of our Church also celebrate our making ourselves vulnerable to others; to God. At baptism, we were entrusted to a community of faith, the Church, and to our parents and godparents to be examples to us of the love of Jesus Christ for us. Who here has been confirmed, “sealed with the gift of the Holy Spirit” by sacred Chrism oil; made vulnerable to the love of the Holy Spirit? If we think of confirmation in this way, is this not almost scary? My sisters and brothers in religious life; my brother priests and deacon here tonight, who have received the sacrament of orders: Do we not all have stories of being made vulnerable; having to trust other members of our religious communities; priests; families; God at critical times?

Who here has been anointed with the oil of the sick? Illness and age again put us at the mercy of others; at the mercy of God. Who here has received the sacrament of reconciliation? We entrust our darkest moments; our suffering; our sins to a priest, a human being, standing in place of God and the Church, yes, but still a frail, vulnerable human being; a sinner. Is this not making ourselves deeply vulnerable? Are not the sacraments and rituals of our Church all profound acts of courage; of making ourselves vulnerable to another?

Tonight’s celebration of the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, Holy Thursday, is a celebration of this most profound vulnerability. Only it is God; the Son of God, Jesus Christ, making himself vulnerable; entrusting himself completely to us. “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me… This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”

St. Paul’s First Letter to the Corinthians and our Gospel reading, from John, celebrate two different instances of Jesus Christ making himself completely vulnerable to us. First Corinthians speaks of Jesus giving himself to us under the form of bread and wine, now Christ’s body and blood, our “new covenant” in “remembrance of” him. And John speaks of Jesus’ washing the feet of his own Apostles and then asking us to do the same: Wash one another’s feet; make yourselves vulnerable to one another. Put yourselves completely at one another’s mercy, as I have done for you, Jesus says.

And so we will, in just a few moments, remember and follow Jesus’ “new model” for us, a “model” of action that makes us vulnerable; perhaps unsettles us. This was an act of humiliation for Jesus, even before his ultimate humiliation for us on the cross. The washing of the feet was so unbecoming of the Son of God; the Savior of the world, that Jesus’ first Apostles, led by Peter, the Church’s “rock,” protested: “You will never wash my feet”! And yet tonight we will witness the washing of feet of twelve people chosen from among us, in remembrance of that first act of complete vulnerability by our Lord.

But why would Peter and the Apostles have been so unsettled by Jesus’ washing of their feet? Why would Jesus, God’s Son, choose willingly to wash their feet, as a slave would do for a master? In short, Jesus did this out of love. And Jesus’ Apostles were unsettled at this act because they had never quite experienced this depth of love before.

Jesus “loved his own who were in the world, and he loved them to the end.” In the words of John’s Gospel, this is why Jesus chose to put himself at his Apostles’ and our mercy in this way. This is why Jesus gave himself to us the night before he suffered and died for us, saying, “This is my body… This… is the new covenant in my blood. Do this… in remembrance of me.”

“He loved his own who were in the world, and he loved them to the end.” Indeed, God has loved us, “his own… in the world,” from the very beginning. God has loved us into being. We are all here because of an act of God’s love for us. God’s chosen people were brought out of slavery in Egypt. They were assured safe passage that first Passover if they marked the doorposts of their houses with lamb’s blood, we hear tonight from the Book of Exodus. All this was made possible because God loves us. God loved us from the beginning and will love us “to the end.” Still, the first Passover was without doubt an unsettling experience for God’s people in the Egyptian desert under Moses, an encounter with God’s love deeper than they had ever experienced before.

And then Jesus washes our feet. And he places himself completely at our mercy in this Last Supper: “This is my body… This… is the new covenant in my blood.” This is no longer lamb’s blood, but the blood of Christ; the body and blood of God made every bit as human as we are.

This kind of love; this kind of intimacy with us is unsettling. Are we willing to let Jesus enter into every aspect of our lives: To share in our joys and sorrows; our wellness and our illness; our prosperity and also our poverty? Are we willing to let Jesus be the very source of “all that is good” in us, but also to take upon himself our sins and have them nailed to a cross? Are we willing to allow Jesus to be both meal and sacrifice in this celebration? Are we willing to let Jesus wash our feet: All the grit, sweat, and stink (since I do not believe pedicures were readily available in Jesus’ time)? Are we willing to be loved more deeply than we have ever been loved before?

If not, Jesus’ answer to us is stark: “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.” But, if so, we are invited to do as Christ does: Put ourselves at one another’s mercy; make ourselves completely vulnerable to one another out of love; sacrifice ourselves in daily, small ways, out of love. Love one another “to the end”; love one another more deeply than we have ever been loved before.