Fulfilling the Commands of Christ

When you and I sit down at table, most of us normally have one thing on our minds – how quickly can this food in front of me get in my belly. That’s kind of a crude way to put it – but if you think about it, when you consider the fast food drive-thrus, the TV dinners, the way in which so much of our dining culture seems to be about getting the most while paying the least, that’s kind of the way that we operate.

But there is an element of human culture around food that is more sophisticated than mere gluttony. I don’t just mean the gastropubs and fancy restaurants – there is something about eating, something about dining together, that communicates an essential part of the human experience. Food has always been a social reality, something that gathers us, and around which we gather. In the taking of food, we find common ground to share experience, broker harmony, and learn friendship.

In the Christian context, there is no more important meal than when Jesus last broke bread with his disciples prior to his betrayal, trial, crucifixion, and death. The Last Supper is an iconic meal, one which has so many points of contact with our faith. We commemorate it every time we gather together for Mass, fulfilling the commandment that Jesus gave to his disciples: “Do this in memory of me.” When we share the Eucharist, we are put in contact again with that iconic event, nearly 2000 years ago in the Upper Room.

As Catholics, the Eucharist is at the heart of our faith. Perhaps more than anything else, it is what distinguishes us from other Christians – that by faith we believe that what we receive at communion is not merely a symbol of the sacrifice Jesus made for us, but that it really is his Body, Blood, Soul, Divinity, his Real Presence offered to the Father for the forgiveness of our sins. For us as Catholics, the Eucharist is, in the words of Vatican II, the source and summit of all that we do, both the fount of grace that stir us to be witnesses to Christ in the world and the most essential gift that we have to share with it.

Jesus Washing Peter's Feet (1858), Ford Madox Brown

In light of all of that, isn't it interesting that our Gospel for this evening mentions nothing about eating? At the Mass of the day on which the Eucharist was given to us, the Gospel says nothing about it. Instead, we have this story of the washing of the disciples’ feet. To outward appearance, it seems as if this is a separate thing – something that Jesus did separate from what he did at the meal. But in reality, the institution of the Eucharist and the washing of the feet are intimately connected.

As Jesus tells Peter, unless the apostles allow him to wash their feet, they will have no inheritance with him. What is this inheritance? Nothing other than a share in the sacrifice he will offer the next day on the Cross, as both High Priest and Victim, handing himself over to death in reparation for our sins. The Eucharist, which he gives to the Church at the Last Supper, is our point of contact with this sacrifice – it is what makes the Cross present throughout the ages and the centuries through the Church. But the Eucharist, as important as it is, does not consist merely in you and I receiving the Body and Blood of Christ.

Often, I think, that’s how we tend to operate as Catholics. We gather around this table, focused on what we are getting, on who we are receiving. But as important as receiving the Eucharist is, living from the Eucharist – putting the charity we have received into action – is more important. Jesus has given us the command of celebrating the Eucharist so that we might have the spiritual fortitude to continue his greater command of loving one another as he has loved us – that is, to the point of self-giving, sacrificial service. It is at this table that find harmony and friendship with God, and from this meal and sacrifice that we are invited to be instruments of the same in all that we do. As much as Jesus does indeed wish for us to receive his Real Presence under the appearance of bread and wine, he doesn’t want us to stop there. Having received the love of God in Christ, what are we called to do? To go and wash feet – that is, to serve with a heart focused on the good of the other, with a charity that seeks the lowest place. 

Immediately following this homily, I will remove my chasuble and wash the feet of twelve members of our community. I do so as a symbol that I too seek to serve, to serve you, in the person of Christ for our community. But I also do so as an encouragement for you, that you might seek to wash the feet of those you know, those you encounter, not physically but spiritually, with the heart of Christ.

My friends, we enter tonight into the holiest three days of our liturgical year. The mystery of the Lord’s passion, death, and resurrection are at the very heart of our faith, and each time we gather together at Mass, those events become present to us again. They are for us not memories or things of the distant past, but eternal realities that very much continue to animate and empower us to continue the charity of Christ in the world today, loving with his heart, speaking with his words, serving with his hands. Let us be reminded of all that we share here together, at this altar, all that Christ has given to us and still gives to us, and all that he invites us to do with him. May all that we do, here and throughout our lives, be a fulfillment of his command: “Do this in memory of me.”