April 2, 2021
Paulist Fr. Rich Andre preached this homily for Holy Thursday (the Mass of the Lord’s Supper) on April 1, 2021 at St. Austin Catholic Parish in Austin, TX. The homily is based on the evening’s readings: Exodus 12:1-14; Psalm 116; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; and John 13:1-15.
Tonight, we begin the great Paschal Triduum. Although we will gather in-person and online for three separate commemorations over the next 72 hours, they fit together as one extended liturgy. Deacon Billy will not declare “The Mass is ended” until Saturday evening.
Tonight, we celebrate Jesus’ institution of the Eucharist… making explicit connections to the Jewish Passover, to Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet at the Last Supper, and to our praying in solidarity with Jesus as he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane. And so, let us begin. [Greeting.]
John tells us that, at the Last Supper, Jesus knows what is about to befall him. He is about to be betrayed, beaten, mocked, condemned, and crucified. And yet, on the last evening of his life, Jesus is focused on others. He is about to begin the central act of his revelation of the Father’s love for all people. This evening is his last opportunity to instruct the disciples, to prepare them for the continuation of his ministry after he is gone. Jesus institutes the Eucharist, which the Church calls the “Blessed Sacrament,” the ultimate sacrament.
The seven sacraments of the Church are visible signs of God’s grace. As much as I love to celebrate the sacraments, I’ve found it really awkward to talk about them over the past twelve months. We’ve been encouraging people to stay home and stay safe… but the Church teaches that sacraments are only fully realized when we are in the same room. At a baptism, someone pours water on the head of the person being baptized. At a wedding, the couple holds hands and exchanges rings. At an anointing, the priest places oil on the forehead of the person who is ill. Over the past year, families and ministers have agonized over decisions about sacraments. Should an infant be baptized now, or when the extended family can gather again? Does a couple decide to have a small ceremony that their friends and family cannot attend, or do they postpone their marriage? When should we priests consent to anoint the sick, and when should we decline because we are putting all the other patients and parishioners we visit at risk? (For everyone who continues to stay home because they are at risk, because they care for someone at risk, or because they don’t feel safe: we understand you, we love you, and we support your decisions. Hang in there! You are still an integral part of the St. Austin community!)
Some Christians consider another liturgical action to be a sacrament: foot washing. It makes sense: foot washing is another visible sign instituted by Christ, and it sure seems to confer grace. The foot washing is my favorite part of the Holy Thursday liturgy. Here at St. Austin, we usually invite everyone to come forward both to have their feet washed and to wash another person’s feet. And while it’s beautiful to observe, it’s incredibly vulnerable to participate. Many people at St. Austin are willing to wash someone else’s feet, even a stranger’s feet. To serve another person? That part of Jesus’ call we understand and embrace. But most people at St. Austin are really uncomfortable with the idea of someone else washing their feet. Most of us are self-conscious about our feet. We don’t like how they look… or how dirty they may be at the end of a long day. If someone else washes our feet, we want it to be a close friend or a famiy member, not a stranger!
But our liturgy tonight makes the explicit connection between foot washing and the Eucharist. We do each because Christ has commanded us. When we adore Christ in the Eucharist at Mass or in the Eucharistic Adoration we will participate in after communion tonight, and when we allow someone else to wash our feet – these are all signs of our vulnerability, of our dependence on God, of our interdependence on one another. Whenever we receive the Eucharist, and when we wash someone else’s feet, we affirm that we are part of Christ’s body, and that we are active participants in Christ’s mission to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to love all people, not just the ones we know well.
But tonight, we find ourselves still in the midst of the pandemic, still needing to distance ourselves from one another. Tonight, we cannot literally do as Jesus instructed us to do. There is no greater love than for each of us to live our lives for the sake of one another. How do we live for others right now? How will we live for others after the pandemic is over? On the night before he died, Jesus prayed that we all may be one. Let our lives be a fulfillment of Jesus’ prayer!
[Pause.]
Thus endeth the homily.
For everyone’s safety, the only person who will wash feet tonight here is me, and the only people who will have their feet washed are the people in my bubble: Fr. Chuck and Fr. Paolo. However, if you’re participating with us online and someone else is with you, you can grab a towel, a large bowl, and fill a pitcher will warm water right now. Don’t wait for me to finish talking. Just turn up the volume on your device and go.
In an attempt to rekindle the vulnerability and the humility of what footwashing and Eucharist should be at their core – to recreate the awkwardness Peter felt when Jesus knelt to wash his feet – we’re going to kick it up a notch. Paolo and Chuck, please come sit at the bottom of the steps. Billy and Paolo, please help Chuck up and down from there, even though he does not want the help. Paolo and Chuck, don’t take your shoes off quite yet: I don’t want you looking at your feet while I’m saying nice things about you. [Wait for them to get into position.]
Paolo, when I took a break from my retreat in upstate New York in 2019 to buy you a drink and get to know you better, I never dreamed that we would be laboring side-by-side at St. Austin in the middle of a pandemic and an energy crisis. It has been a delight to organize your ordination celebration and to minister alongside a younger Paulist brother who brings such gifts and insights to everything. Your practicality is a balance to my tendency to make things complicated. Although you’ve been stuck in the rectory since you’ve arrived here, unable to explore and travel, I’m glad to have the extra time with you!
Chuck, while we’ve known each other since 2006, I was going on other Paulists’ advice that you were the person in the community who could best help me prepare to become a pastor. That’s the main reason I petitioned to be sent here in 2016, and it’s why I asked the Paulist Presidential Board to allow me to stay on past the usual 4-year assignment. I am amazed at how hard you are working to guarantee the future of this parish for long after your tenure here ends. Thank you for placing your confidence in me, and thank you for entrusting me with more responsibilities than associate pastors are usually allowed to take on.
Paolo and Chuck, as we prepare to move to a smaller, less institutional house, I have a hunch that we will grow even closer. As Paulists, we have already given our lives to one another. In washing your feet tonight, I declare my respect, my admiration, and my love for both of you. [Take off chasuble and begin washing feet.]