In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” As we enter into the Triduum, it is fitting that our Savior puts us in the mind of love. Though the word “Passion” which we use to describe this week comes from Latin meaning “to suffer,” and not our romantic sense of passion, it is fitting to have love on our minds in Passiontide. What compelled Jesus to wash his disciples feet was love, what drove him to give up his body was love, and what animates his Resurrection is love.
If you had the chance to read the article that I wrote about the Triduum, you know that we are entering into holy time tonight. The Triduum inaugurates our yearly celebration and entrance into the Death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is not that we have come to commemorate or remember, but rather that through the mysterious grace of God, we are participating in these actual events. Though our senses may tell us otherwise, the liturgical time that we are in during the Triduum is not at all like chronological time. The sun will set and rise between now and Sunday, but the Triduum happens in one liturgical day. Tonight’s liturgy does not end until Bonnie dismisses us at the Easter Vigil. The reason why this sense of Triduum-time matters is that the love which we see on display on Maundy Thursday is as present fully tonight as it was then. The same love with which the disciples had their feet washed is with us. The same love that Jesus went to the Cross with will be given to you as the Body of Christ. The same love that remained even through Jesus’ betrayal remains with us as the altar is stripped. The Triduum begins with Maundy Thursday, reminding us that the Passion is a love story.
Love is the name of this night. “Maundy” comes from the Latin mandatum, referring to the new commandment that Jesus ordains – “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.” Maundy Thursday is a liturgy with a focus on the commandment to love. Love, though, is often misunderstood. This isn’t a sermon about defining love, but will be a sermon about enacting love. But I do want to at least give us all the same starting point. The word used for love in this context is the Greek word agape. This is often seen as the highest form of love – it is the love of Christ on the Cross, it is the love by which God created the world, it is the divine love the flows through us by the Spirit. Agape is a self-giving and pure love. If you’ve ever been to a wedding and heard the words of St. Paul read, that “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things,” he is writing of agape love. This sort of love is more than the love we have for our friends, for a lover, for our family.
But this sort of love is not to be explained, it is to be experienced. And that is exactly what Jesus does on this night that he was betrayed. The first way in which Jesus enacts this love is in washing his disciples' feet. As we heard in the text from John, this was a jarring experience for the disciples. The master or teacher would never be the one to wash feet, that was the duty of a slave. But Jesus insists and models love by showing that he is not above a slave. One way to read this is that Jesus is humbling himself, and that’s a fine way to read his action. But the other way to read it is that Jesus isn’t changing his social status, but rather he’s elevating the status of the slave. He’s showing us that his ministry is that of service, and that all can participate in it.
In this role reversal, Jesus engages in an intimate, vulnerable, humble, and loving act of service. Love doesn’t keep score. Love doesn’t waste time with comparing social statuses to see who should bow first, or who should wash feet, or whose title is superior. No, love loves. And that is what Jesus shows us. The grace of God is that we are, through our union into Christ’s Death and Resurrection by Baptism, enabled to participate in this love.
In the early Church, Baptism only happened once a year, at the Easter Vigil. St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, Italy in the late 300s, wrote about how Easter Vigil flowed liturgically. After the Baptism, the very first thing that happened was that Ambrose would put on an apron and wash the feet of the newly Baptized. Then in the sermon that followed, Ambrose would explain what has just happened in the double washing – the Baptism and the foot washing. In these sermons, he often said that the act of foot washing, which though it isn’t considered one of the seven Sacraments of the Church really could be, was about Sanctification. That is, the act of washing feet plunges us more deeply into what it means to be baptized. We grow in holiness and into the stature of Christ when we wash feet. We remind ourselves that in love, there is no inequality of honor or respect, but we are a servant of all.
But there’s another side to foot washing, that is allowing it to happen. Just as Peter protested at having his feet washed, many people today are uncomfortable with the practice. I know there are some people who do not come to church on Maundy Thursday because of this discomfort with foot washing. Foot washing is not only holy because it is a model of loving service, but because it is also a model of loving vulnerability. Allowing your feet to be washed is also an act of love, especially when the washing is done by someone that society has trained you to think is above you in the ranking system. It is why Ambrose washed the feet of the newly baptized. By having their feet washed by the Bishop, it showed them that this Body of Christ which they have joined is one of radical equality in God.
I want to make it clear, none of you are compelled to have your feet washed tonight. If you choose not to have your feet washed, there is no guilt in that. But I do invite you to prayerfully ponder why it is that you might choose to not partake in this sacramental act of love. Is it your discomfort with the role reversal? Is it fear that your feet tell a story that you’d rather have hidden? Is it uneasiness around a vulnerable and intimate act? Whatever your hesitation may be, know that love is at the core of foot washing, and love is strong enough to overcome it. Foot washing isn’t a parable about love to consider, it is an act of love to participate in.
The other action at the Last Supper that is rooted in love is the institution of the Holy Eucharist. As St. Paul records in 1 Corinthians, “This is my body that is for you.” Like foot washing, this isn’t a parable, it’s love in action. As we go deeper into the Triduum, we will see this when Jesus really and truly gives up his body for us. And as St. Paul writes, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” In this Sacrament of God’s presence, mercy, and peace, we proclaim Jesus’ Death and the love that drove him there. Jesus himself said that “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”
What attracts people to Jesus is his authenticity. As the saying goes, “Talk is cheap.” Our world is full of more talk than ever – through television, radio, books, journals, magazines, and smartphones, there are more words in circulation than ever have been in human history. But, to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare, most of them are “full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” If you ask most people what they want in relationships, politicians, or a church, they’ll give you a similar answer – authenticity. That’s exactly what Jesus models for us in love. On Maundy Thursday, he talks the talk; and on Good Friday, he walks the walk. It’s easy to say “I’d do anything for you” or “If you need anything, give me a call;” it’s something else entirely to give up your body for those who would betray you. And we call that “something else” love. The Eucharist is the Sacrament of this love that surpasses all understanding, and Jesus invites us into this love by giving us his Body.
You’ve probably heard the spiritual song written in the 1960s with the refrain “They’ll know that we are Christians by our love.” Love is the hallmark of our faith. But if you ask around to see what people think Christianity is about, I’m afraid that love won’t make many top 10 lists. Hypocrisy, judgment, exclusion, condemnation, close-mindedness – these are some of the negative things that Christians are known for. But even the positive things that we are known for betray love as our highest calling. When the Church is known for social justice work, political activism, or worship, we fail just as miserably as we do when we are judgmental. Sure, we might do those things out of love, but too often we skip the first step of love. St. Augustine once gave this instruction: “Love, then do whatever you wish.”
The Passion, Crucifixion, and Resurrection of Jesus Christ, which we enter through the Triduum, is about the power of incarnate love. What we see on Maundy Thursday is that love is not a concept, not an idea, not an emotion. Rather, love is an orientation to the other, it involves humble service and transforming vulnerability. The grace of God is that this love dwells within us. As we move towards Good Friday and the Vigil, keep love in your mind. But more importantly, as we pause our liturgy to return to the world, carry love with you. Carry the knowledge that God loves you to the point up giving up his body. Carry love with you so that someone might just say about you “That must be a Christian, I can tell by her, by his, love.” Amen.
