Holy Thursday

From the responsorial psalm: “How shall I make a return to the LORD for all the good he has done for me? The cup of salvation I will take up, and I will call upon the name of the LORD. Our blessing-cup is a communion with the Blood of Christ.”

A reading from the holy Gospel according to John (Jn 13:1-15)

So when he had washed their feet and put his garments back on and reclined at table again, he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you? You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am. If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Before the feast of Passover in the Upper Room, Jesus begins to wash his disciples’ feet. As he comes to Simon Peter, he asks what Jesus is doing and says to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus then replies, “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.” Peter says, “Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.” At first failing to understand why Jesus would want to wash his feet, Peter accepts wholeheartedly what Jesus offers to do. The lowly, menial task of washing feet is an example to the disciples of humility and selflessness. In this example of sacrificial love and service, Peter accepts what Jesus does for the sake of his own salvation. “What I am doing,” Jesus tells Peter, “you do not understand now, but you will understand later.” Peter, the first servant of the servants, would come to understand service and sacrificial love as our first pope.

God, help me understand what greatness is—not conventional greatness, not greatness as the world sees it, but greatness in going all out to be the least important person in the room. “Human greatness has always had sadness for a companion,” said exorcist Fr. Gabriele Amorth. Jesus assured Peter that only his feet need be cleaned to receive the self-gift of Jesus’ humility. In seeking human greatness, I’ve demonstrated time after time that I stumble and fall. Raise me up to true greatness, Lord, in learning the virtue of humility and loving service to others. “I give you a new commandment, says the Lord: love one another as I have loved you.”

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

“You do not know what you are asking.” | Wednesday of the Second Week of Lent

A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew (Mt 20:17-28)

Jesus said in reply, “You do not know what you are asking. Can you drink the chalice that I am going to drink?” They said to him, “We can.” He replied, “My chalice you will indeed drink, but to sit at my right and at my left, this is not mine to give but is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.”

Jesus tells the disciples about his coming passion, death, and resurrection. The mother of James and John approaches Jesus and asks him, “Command that these two sons of mine sit, one at your right and the other at your left, in your kingdom.” It is as if there is a misunderstanding between what she asks Jesus and what Jesus has just told the disciples. To drink the chalice that Jesus drinks and to sit at his right hand means to take on his suffering and participate in his passion. Greatness of that kind is not what a mother would ask for her sons, yet it is the same servanthood that Christ calls them to—a dying to oneself. “Just so,” Jesus says to the disciples, “the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

God, you know me better than I know myself. Give me the wisdom to know when I am in the midst of making worldly ambition—or even undue control over the course of the next hour—an end in itself. Help me discern whether my aims are selfish or whether my sole aim is to know and act on your will. Jesus speaks of greatness, what it looks like through your eyes: “whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant.” Give me clarity of mind today to stop and notice when you place in front of me an opportunity to practice humble service and selfless love. Help me see as you see.

From the responsorial psalm: “You will free me from the snare they set for me, for you are my refuge. Into your hands I commend my spirit; you will redeem me, O LORD, O faithful God. Save me, O Lord, in your kindness.”

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

“The greatest among you must be your servant.” | Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent

A reading from the holy Gospel according to Matthew (Mt 23:1-12)

Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, “As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

Jesus presents to those who hear him a path that gives what is due to religious leaders of his time, the scribes and Pharisees. Yet, he instructs those listening not to follow their example of burdening others through their authority or showing off for the sake of honor, to be noticed. “Do not follow their example,” Jesus says, “for they preach but they do not practice.” Instead, he invites us to turn our understanding of authority upside down and follow his example of leading by serving. “You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers.” In calling us to imitate him in humble service, Jesus opens up the way to perfect humility by putting the needs of others before our own and seeking to serve rather than be served.

God, help me practice my faith by doing what pleases you rather than what looks good in the eyes of others. It’s easy to point out the self-exaltation of others and the attention they seek. But when I turn to myself, what do I find through genuine self-examination? Give me the grace, God, to praise and give you glory by practicing what Jesus teaches. In seeking to do your will through humility and service, I have through Jesus the invitation to be the greatest among others by humbling myself for the sake of your glory.

From the responsorial psalm: “Help us, O God our savior, because of the glory of your name; deliver us and pardon our sins for your name’s sake. Lord, do not deal with us according to our sins.”

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Feast of Saint James, Apostle: Reflection

Jesus said to the disciples, “Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Jesus came to serve, to be the servant of servants. By saying this to the ten disciples after talking with James, John, and their mother, Jesus pulls the rug out from the type of dog-eat-dog authority that the rulers of the Gentiles exhibited. As Father Burke Masters says, quoting Bishop Barron, “This life is not about you.” The chalice that Jesus offers the disciples is not one of greatness and power, but of subjection and suffering.

Fisherman James and John, also known as the Sons of Thunder, wanted a share in Jesus’ kingdom; they had, it seems, a thirst for success and worldly power. In my own life and in the goals I set, I want to understand that the thirst for those things in this world that seem to be measures of success—honor, power, pleasure, wealth—are really just a sham and a substitute, according to Saint Thomas Aquinas, for God.

It’s a back-to-work day. The list of things to do, however short, seems to pile up in my mind as I try to spend quiet time in prayer. Is there so much in a day that I need to accomplish? Is that so? All I can say is “My Jesus, mercy!” No great revelations follow; just the hope that the day doesn’t lead me, tongue lolling, toward honor, power, pleasure, or wealth. Do I dare ask God to teach me how to be a good servant?

I want to reject the shams that I encounter today—every one of them, one by one or however many at a time approach me. Instead, let me find the next best way to serve somebody in my family and welcome interruptions. In Interior Freedom by Fr. Jacques Philippe, he says that Saint Thérèse welcomed interruptions. In his book, he says: “If a good Sister then came by to ask her for some little service, instead of coldly sending her away Thérèse made the effort to accept the interruption with good grace. And if nobody interrupted her, she considered that a charming present from her loving God and was very grateful to him.” That’s a challenge that I’m sure I’ll fail at today because of important things I have to do, but I can ask God for the grace to get back up and try again and again. After all, this life is not about me.

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