If You Can't Wash Their Feet, How Will You Die for Them?

The first chapter of John’s Gospel introduces Jesus as the logos (Greek for “the Word”).  A word communicates something; Jesus is what God wants to say to the world.  In fact, New Testament scholar Francis Moloney loosely translates John 1:18 as:  “He [Jesus] has told God’s story.”

As the divine logos, not only Jesus’ words but everything he does express something to us about God.  Jesus is not just a messenger of God’s words; he is God’s self-expression.

John is the only Gospel that tells the story of Jesus washing the feet of the disciples at the Last Supper.  In this unique story, the divine logos speaks loudly.  John does not narrate the details of the meal or what we now call the "institution of the Eucharist."  Instead, he tells a simple story about Jesus with a basin of water and a towel, doing something we never expected.  He washes the dirty feet of his friends.

Peter is appalled, remember?  But Jesus is patient.  He says to Peter, “What I am doing, you will not understand now.  But you will understand later.”  When he is finished, he asks his friends, “Do you know what I have done for you?  I have given you a model to follow.”  And of course we know from the other words and actions of Jesus, all expressions of the Father, that this is not only something we should do for our friends, but for anyone in need, and for our enemies too.

The footwashing is startling, and Jesus’ command to imitate his humble deed asks a lot of us.  But it is nothing compared to the Cross.  Ultimately, this is where Jesus goes.  This is where he says to us again, “What I am doing, you will not understand now.  But you will understand later.”  This is where he asks us for the last time, “Do you know what I have done for you?  I have given you a model to follow.”  This is where we hear the echo of John’s testimony about Jesus:  “He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end” (13:1).

Now imagine your friends, and those who need you, and your enemies – those who have hurt you or failed you, those in your life who are most difficult to love, respect or care for.  Now imagine that you take up a towel and a basin of water.  Imagine that you kneel down and carefully wash their feet, and gently dry them.  You might not want to do it at first, although you know God has done it for you so many times.  But if you can’t wash the feet of every person in your life, how will you go to the Cross, how will you lay down your life for them, how will you love your own to the end?

Jesus has told God’s story.  And now we are his logos, his Word, his self-expression in the world.  We have been given a model to follow.  Will we do it?

To meditate further on the text of John 13, click here.

Ford Madox Brown, Jesus Washing Peter's Feet, 1856

How to Pray (for wine at a party)

The following is reprinted from my column in Catechist Magazine, with permission from Catechist.  It is a reflection on this Sunday’s Gospel reading.

 Sun., Jan. 17, Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

John 2:1-11

The story of the miracle at the wedding at Cana continues the theme of revealing Jesus that began on the Epiphany and continued at Jesus’ baptism, where he was revealed as God’s beloved and anointed son. In this story, Jesus will be revealed to his disciples and others as one who works great signs.

This story from John’s Gospel also gives us an opportunity to reflect on the faith of Mary, the mother of Jesus. She impresses us with her concern for others, her attention to detail, and her unflinching faith. She is an example we can follow. In fact, she teaches us how to pray.

As we know, the hosts of the wedding celebration were running low on wine. Mary noticed this and wanted to help. So what did Mary do? She did not walk around wringing her hands and worrying. She did not grab her wallet and run to the market to “fix it” herself. Instead she immediately went to Jesus. 

We may be surprised or even amused by Jesus’ response. He doesn’t seem very interested. He even seems to rebuff Mary a bit. But what does Mary do? She doesn’t give up and assume he will not help. She does not lose faith in Jesus. Instead she trusts that he heard her and will respond. She tells the servants to be ready: “Do whatever he tells you.”

What is the result of Mary’s petition? Jesus responds with a miracle, of course. Jugs of water are turned into lots and lots of wine—really good wine! 

Like Mary, we should also walk right up to Jesus and tell him about our needs and concerns. They don’t have to be big things. After all, this whole story is about wine at a party! If Jesus does not seem to respond right away, we can be assured that it is not because he isn’t interested or doesn’t care. We can be patient and hopeful and trust in him like Mary did. And just as he did at Cana, when he does respond, he will respond with power. He will do lots and lots of really good things in our lives. 

Reprinted with permission from Catechist Magazine.  For subscription information visit catechist.com. 

Why We Still Need John the Baptist

During Advent, we always meet John the Baptist in the Sunday Gospel readings.  John is a colorful figure, and we all love him for it.  But we might not love him so much if we met him in the desert!  Especially if he was shouting in our direction!

There’s a wonderful question in Luke’s account of the birth of John the Baptist.  When John was born, people asked themselves:  “What then will this child become?” (Lk. 1:66). 

What did John become?  And why is he still so important?

Luke's Gospel identifies John as the prophet who came to smooth rough ways by levelling mountains and filling in valleys.  That sounds like hard work.  And it is.  Because when it comes to the human heart, most of us have no interest in having our mountains levelled or our valleys filled in.  We go through our days saying, “I’m just fine thank you,” continuing right along the same rough path as always.  It was John’s momentous task to convince people that they are not fine.  As Jesus would later explain, “Those who are healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do” (Lk. 5:31).  It is hard work convincing people that they need a physician.  How often have you put off a visit to the doctor?  How often have you ignored pains and symptoms, hoping they would go away on their own?  John’s preaching convinced people that they could no longer ignore the symptoms.  And they repented, making way for a healing Savior.

John was a sight to see, a man of the desert, and I imagine his prophetic voice was quite loud.  We still need that loud voice ringing in our ears, that strange sight of someone so different telling us that something is not right in our lives, in our world.  Our own spiritual blindness, our self-satisfied complacency, is the impenetrable fortress John wanted to knock down. 

This was the work of the one who was not even worthy to loosen the thong of Jesus’ sandal!  This was the preparation for something even greater.  So imagine – imagine – what Jesus can do in our hearts if first we listen to the voice of the Baptist!

"King of the Universe"

This Sunday is one of my favorite feast days, the Feast of Christ the King!  I’m always hoping for a spirited rendition of “Lift High the Cross.”

Below is my reflection on Sunday’s Gospel, republished here with permission from Catechist Magazine, where it originally appeared.

To read this Sunday’s Gospel, click here:  John 18:33-37.

Reflect:  This Sunday we celebrate the great solemnity of Christ the King. We honor the glory and dominion of Christ with the grand title “King of the Universe.”

But what is the nature of this kingship? What does Jesus mean when he stands before Pilate, beaten and bleeding, and says, “My kingdom does not belong to this world?”

When we look into the pages of the Gospels, we do not find the things that our world associates with kings. We find no jeweled crown, no vast estates, and no wealth to speak of. We find no armies, no servants, and no political power. In fact, we find that most Gospel references to Jesus as a “king” are insults! They are sarcastic words meant to humiliate Jesus. Recall the Roman soldiers who stood before him as he hung on the cross and called out: “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself!” (Luke 23:37). They had already placed on him a crown of thorns and purple robes, and kneeling in front of him, they had laughed at this “king” (Matthew 27:29).

The kingship of Jesus is a paradox, a contradiction. Yes, our God is mighty, powerful, and wealthy beyond comprehension. But in his son Jesus, he has shown himself to be deliberately weak, powerless, and poor. This is the kind of king we worship. This is the divine king who became human, like us. This is the king who wrought our salvation through blood, sweat and tears. This is the king that bewildered many of his contemporaries but ultimately “makes sense” to his followers. This is the king who reigns in our hearts.

It is fitting that the celebration of Christ the King directly precedes our Advent observance. Our celebration of the deliberately humble kingship of Jesus prepares us for the coming of the small and vulnerable Christ child. Even the lowly manger, his first throne, signifies the kind of king we have in Jesus. He does not reign from a distant castle or a fortified compound. This king is present with us. He is close to us. He is one of us.

Ask Yourself: How can I imitate the deliberate poverty and humility of Christ? How does this give me strength and power?

Pray: Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe, teach my heart the true meaning of power as humility, service and love. May I embrace the quiet power of your manger and your cross.

Ask Your Students: How does our world understand power? How does Jesus understand power (think about the kind of power he shows us on the cross)? Which kind of power should we strive for?

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit catechist.com. 

Christ with Thorns, Carl Bloch (1834-1890)

I'm writing for CATECHIST magazine!

Beginning with the current September issue, you will find my reflections on the Sunday Gospels in CATECHIST magazine in a monthly feature called:  “Sunday throughout the Week:  Lessons for the Sunday Gospels.”  I’m excited to be a part of CATECHIST magazine and its mission to support catechists with spiritual enrichment, classroom advice, useful materials, and creative ideas. 

CATECHIST has been around for a long time – I used to read all the old copies that Sr. Blanche left in her office when I was a D.R.E.!  Even the issues that were 10 years old (or older, God bless her!) were helpful to me.

The folks at CATECHIST have given me permission to publish one of my Gospel reflections per month on my blog.  This coming Sunday is Catechetical Sunday.  Many of you are catechists, so I wanted to share this Sunday’s reflection, with permission from CATECHIST magazine.

* * * * *

September 20, Catechetical Sunday

Read:  Mark 9:30-37

Reflect: Although this week’s Gospel reading is simply a continuation of Mark’s narrative, it seems it was hand-picked for Catechetical Sunday! The lectionary has provided a lovely meditation for catechists on this special day.

As Mark’s Gospel narrative moves forward, Jesus continues to teach his disciples that suffering awaits him in Jerusalem. Mark plainly states that his disciples do not understand. In fact, their disregard for Jesus’ message is so profound that rather than taking his words to heart, they begin to argue with one another about which one of them is the greatest.

But it is this self-centered and woefully human argument that prompts a great teaching moment from Jesus—and a moment that catechists should treasure. In order to teach the disciples about true greatness, Jesus places a child in their midst. He embraces the child. And then he says something unbelievable: to receive this child—to love him, teach him, embrace him—is to love Jesus himself, and in loving Jesus, to love the Father.

This message is for you on this Catechetical Sunday. You are not a catechist for the glory or the greatness. You never expected that. You are a catechist for the sake of the little ones. When you receive them, you already know that you receive the Lord. In this story, the child represents all of those who are often overlooked or who seem unimportant in the eyes of the world. To serve such a one is true greatness. As a catechist, you already get it: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be . . . the servant of all.”

Ask Yourself:  How does my role as a catechist help me understand true greatness? Do I see Christ in the children I serve?

Ask Your Students:  Did you know that Jesus taught adults they could love God by loving children? Does this make sense to you? Why or why not?

Pray:  Lord Jesus, in my work as a catechist, I receive you as I receive the children in my life.

Reprinted with permission from CATECHIST magazine.  For subscription information visit, catechist.com.