We began our Lenten journey with the
first public words of Jesus. When we were marked on our foreheads
with ashes, many of us heard the Lord call us to conversion, saying
“Repent and believe in the Gospel.” Over Lent, despite our
efforts, most of us have not fully done so. Perhaps we still cling
to sinful tendencies, or we are still attached to the things of this
world, or we still harbor within us some fear of giving up everything
and following Our Lord to Calvary, to die with Him as St. Thomas
invited us to a couple weeks ago. We cannot do it on our own, we
need help. Humanity has failed to respond to Christ's call to
holiness, and today the Lord Jesus leaves his disciples with His last
words and last actions before the Good Shepherd freely lays down His
life for the sheep.
The entire Bible has led us to this
point in the story. The centuries of human history converge on the
mysteries we recount these few days. The story of the Bible is the
story of mankind's need for redemption – this is why we call it
“salvation history.” We need a Savior. We are in a mess and
can't get ourselves out. This sin must be dealt with.
Thanks be to God for His infinite
creativity: As Pope Benedict describes in Jesus of Nazareth Part II,
(p 121) Time and again, God asks for our love and waits for mankind's
response. When he receives a “no,” he generously find a way to
open up a new path of love for us. “He responds to Adam's no with
a new overture toward man. He responds to Babel's no with a fresh
initiative in history – the choice of Abraham. When the Israelites
ask for a king, it is initially out of spite toward God, who prefers
to reign directly over his people. Yet in the promise to David he
transforms this spite into a path leading directly to Christ, David's
Son.
So also with Christ, we can see a sort
of transition suggested in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke:
After generations have continually failed to adequately respond to
the call to “repent and believe in the Gospel,” the Lord opens
for us another way for healing and restoration in taking our sins
upon Himself and mounting the Cross as expiation for our sins.
This is the great humility of Christ
that we see played out before us today in one symbolic action. What
the Letter to the Philippians says in its great Christological hymn –
namely that unlike Adam, who had tried to grasp divinity for himself,
Christ moves in the opposite direction, coming down from his divinity
into humanity, taking the form of a slave
and becoming obedient even to death on a cross – all of this is
rendered visible in a single gesture. Jesus represents the whole of
his saving ministry here:
He divests himself of his divine splendor (symbolized
in the outer garments he removes); he as it were, kneels
down before us; he washes and dries our soiled feet, in order to make
us fit to sit at table for God's wedding feast. (Jesus 56) He
takes our dirt unto himself by this act of washing.
What
we hear in the Gospel today breaks our normal sense of the way things
are meant to be: the master is the servant. This echoes back to what
we just recalled on Sunday, where the King and Messiah was welcomed
with songs of “Hosanna to the Son of David!,” yet while he
himself was riding on a donkey, the humblest of animals. These are
the paradoxes that prepare us for the greater mysteries to come: a
God who dies for us, who loves His own to the end; a king who rules
from a tree, who reigns by giving Himself for others; a Lord who
returns to us alive, still bearing the wounds of his execution. And
finally, as we recall from Saint Paul's account today, a God whose
humility does not stop at becoming man, nor at embracing death, nor
at the shame of the cross, but even to come to us under the form of
bread and wine as the perpetual memorial of his sacrifice.
The
Eucharist is the great gift of Christ that recalls forever His
suffering and death, and thus it relies on the actual gift that
Christ makes for us tomorrow. Without the Cross, the Eucharist
wouldn't make any sense. Let us imagine the scene again: Jesus
knew that he was about to die. He knew that he would not be able to
eat the Passover again. Fully aware of this, he invited his
disciples to a Last Supper of a very special kind, that constituted
his farewell; during the meal he gives them something absolutely new:
he gives Himself as the true lamb and thereby institutes his Passover
as the replacement of the Jewish symbol that foretold Him. (Jesus
113) Thus Christ becomes
Himself the New Temple that offers the New Worship in Spirit and
Truth that alone makes the Father well-pleased. This new memorial at
the Last Supper is the only way that Jesus is able to help us make
sense of His Passion and death: without the Eucharist, the
cross is a mere execution without any discernible point to it. Yet
together, Jesus is able to transform the senselessness of death into
the height of beauty: self-giving love. Now death, which was once
the destruction of love, becomes now the means of verifying and
establishing it, of its enduring constancy given forever in the
Blessed Sacrament. (God is Near us, 29-30).
This
is truly love to the end. And it is here, in this Blessed Sacrament,
that we, the Church, are made capable of such love ourselves.
Because the Cross, which the Eucharist brings to our very souls, does
not work only on a vertical level: winning our salvation by expiation
from our sins, and reuniting us with God. The horizontal dimension
is also present: the Cross is the source of all Charity because it is
the perfect act of Charity – Jesus giving Himself to us to be with
us always, until the end of the ages.
And
when He gives the Eucharist to us at the Last Supper, when He washes
our feet, He gives us a New Commandment along with it - we are to
love as He has loved us: “as I have done for you, you should also
do.” This is ultimately impossible for us on a human level:
because of Original Sin, we are corrupt beyond our own powers.
However, with God's grace, we are able to have pure hearts. Through
the saving bath of baptism into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, we are
made dead to sin and alive in Christ Jesus, we are washed clean and
our hearts are capable of being pure.
In
this sanctification that makes the Church by uniting it to Christ
through Holy Communion, we are given this great mission to love each
other and bring that move to the world: “By this will all men know
that you are my disciples, if you have love one another.” This is
why the Eucharist is called the Sacrament of Charity. Because while
it calls us to perfect love in this new commandment, it also gives us
the grace to do it by uniting us with Christ. It depends
on our “I” being absorbed into his - “it is no longer I who
live, but Christ who lives in me.” Gal. 2:20. (Jesus 64) Only
because of this are we able of making this love as real as getting
down and washing feet as a slave.
Neither
are we allowed to keep this to ourselves in some sort of eternal
sleepover hug-fest of sentimentality. No, we must bring the Gospel
to others: “an authentically eucharistic Church is a
missionary Church.” … We cannot approach the eucharistic table
without being drawn into the mission which, beginning in the very
heart of God, is meant to reach all people. Missionary outreach is
thus an essential part of the eucharistic form of the Christian life.
(Sacramentum Caritatis #84)
This
command to love and to invite others into this gift of Divine Love is
meant for us all, but especially in the priest. Please pray for your
priests daily (even as our Pope Francis has constantly urged us to
pray for him) so that we may faithfully administer God's love to you
and to all in our parish, Catholic or otherwise.
Lastly,
do not forget that you are all priests through your Baptism, called
to offer spiritual sacrifices to the Father. Called to expiate sins
in the vertical dimension of the Cross, as well as exemplify the
Charity of Christ on the horizontal level in your homes, workplaces,
and local communities. May Our Eucharistic Lord, who left us this
perfect example tonight, enable us in this great Sacrament of Charity
to do so all of our days.