Letter for the year
Jesus washes the feet of his disciples, painting by Brother Sylvain of Taizé
"I have loved you": these words appear several times in the account that the Gospel of Saint John gives of the last evening of Jesus with his disciples (John 13:34 and 15:9,12). They are like a key that provides the meaning of the entire narrative.
In presenting this last evening, John tells how Jesus began by washing his disciples’ feet. The other three Gospels recall that Jesus instituted the Eucharist on that night. It is fortunate that we are invited to commemorate the institution of the Eucharist and the foot-washing on the same day. These two acts are closely linked: both express the entire mystery of Jesus’ being in utter simplicity. Differently than by words, perhaps better than by words, Jesus shows what lies at the heart of the Gospel: "I have loved you to the end."
Both for the Eucharist and for the foot-washing, the contrast is striking between the act and what it stands for. The poverty and simplicity of these two signs make them accessible to everyone.
The Eucharist sums up our faith, and we can only receive it in an attitude of adoration, in a spirit of childhood. By celebrating this mystery, we understand it more and more.
"This is my body": these words are beyond our understanding. Nobody had ever spoken like that, and nobody will ever again speak in that way. These are unique words in the history of religions; their justification is found only in themselves. Let us not seek an explanation that would imprison the mystery in our own understanding. This has been a constant temptation in the Church.
In celebrating the Eucharist, we trust the words of Christ handed down by the first Christians: "This is my body, given for you." The Church passes from one generation to another this mystery, which is made present by the Holy Spirit.
Through the Eucharist we receive into our lives the Christ who went to the extreme of loving by giving himself. And the gift of his life bears fruit in his disciples. "I am the vine; you are the branches … It is my Father’s glory that you bear much fruit." (John 15:5,8).
The foot-washing, a simple image of which is found above, allows us to contemplate the humility of Jesus. It will always amaze us. That profound humility contains a force of love that renews all creation.
God’s omnipotence is that of love. Jesus has "overcome the world" (John 16:33), not by being stronger than it, but by introducing into humanity a different force, something absolutely new. On the evening of Holy Thursday, we sing at length: "Ubi caritas et amor, Deus ibi ist". (Where charity and love are found, God is present.)
God’s power is an energy of love that operates from within, gently. It can transform the harshest realities, even death.
Are we sufficiently aware that by celebrating the Eucharist we open the door to Christ so that the power of his love may permeate our lives and the contemporary world?
Are we sufficiently aware that through a service as simple as the washing of feet, we allow the presence of the Risen Christ to act in the world? Our commitment is often on the order of signs, just as the life of Jesus was. We may be doing nothing more than washing the feet of those entrusted to us. But our acts of solidarity are signs that can open a way forward for Christ and transfigure humanity.
Are we sufficiently aware that the Eucharist and the washing of feet are anticipations of the Kingdom? They open a horizon of hope at the heart of the world.
At Taizé, we were enabled to experience a very strong link between the Eucharist and the washing of feet through the life of some of our brothers who spent eight years in one of the worst slums of Africa. It was in Mathare Valley, in Nairobi, Kenya. Brother Roger had spent some time there himself, then a small group of brothers had continued. Without the unlimited resources to transform countless situations of distress, what meaning could such a presence have?
How could they keep going? Following the example of the Little Sisters of Jesus, Brother Roger asked the archbishop if the brothers could keep the Eucharistic presence in the poor shack where they lived. The archbishop gave his approval and came himself to celebrate the Eucharist in the slum. Later one of the brothers wrote, "Without praying each day in front of the Eucharistic gift, I could not keep going." It was a kind of source of life which allowed the brothers to continue, by their mere presence, to" wash the feet" of the local people. And gradually, small initiatives of solidarity were born.
Of course, living a presence like that of my brothers, open-ended and with no specific agenda, does not exempt Christians from making commitments to change the structures of injustice. But without living side-by-side with the lowliest, we cannot recognize their dignity or allow it to be respected. The Gospel’s call to wash the feet of the poor impels us to overcome a patronizing or paternalistic spirit, and to discover all they have to give us and that we can receive from them.
To become more aware of the link between the Eucharist and service: is that not a source of renewal for the Church today? Yes, the Eucharist invites us to the washing of feet, to go like Jesus to the utmost bound of love, to love as he loved.