The Washing of the Feet
In a meditation that is appropriate for Holy Thursday, Romano Guardini reflects on the meaning of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and his command to them that they wash one another’s feet. It is a call, he suggests, to follow in the way of Christ:
Every Christian one day reaches the point where he too must be willing to accompany the Master into destruction and oblivion: into that which the world considers folly, that which for his own understanding is incomprehensible. Whatever it is to be: suffering, dishonor, the loss of loved ones or the shattering of a lifetime oeuvre, this is the decisive test of his Christianity. Will he shrink back before the ultimate depths, or will he be able to go all the way and thus win his share of the life of Christ? What is it we fear in Christianity if not precisely this demand? That is why we try to water it down to a less disturbing system of “ethics” or “Weltanschauung” or what have you. But to be a Christian means to participate in the life of Christ–all of it; only the whole brings peace. The Lord once said: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you, not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid” (Jn 14:27). Peace comes only from living this through to the end. One way or another we must brush the depths Christ divinely plummeted, taste the dregs he drained to the last drop: “It is consummated” (Jn 19:30). From this unreserved realization of the Father’s will comes the illimitable peace of Christ, also for us.
“Whatever it is to be: suffering, dishonor, the loss of loved ones or the shattering of a lifetime oeuvre, this is the decisive test of his Christianity.”
Amen to that. Instead of this beautiful practice, Christians too often strut about excommunicating each other. As Jesus told Peter. Unless we wash each other’s feet, we cannot be his disciple.
“Will he shrink back before the ultimate depths, or will he be able to go all the way and thus win his share of the life of Christ? ”
Tolkien may have had this very question in mind when he put Frodo before the Cracks of Doom in Orodruin. that Frodo failed there, or succeeded only through the unintended consequences of evil, has always struck me as somewhat ambiguous on Tolkien’s part.
From Radical Catholic Mom over on Vox Nova
Terrifying and comforting words at the same time. I’ve discovered that there is more than one “decisive test” of a person’s Christianity. You cannot live the Christian life long in this world without being put to the test over and over again. We face crisis points more than once–situations or events in which you have to make some fundamental choices about how far you are willing to go in your discipleship. Once you go through one of these events, you find yourself more confirmed in your convictions about Christ and the life he calls you to. But you also suspect–and rightly so–that there is still more to learn.
We never really “arrive,” not even after a signal event.
There is also the daily dying to self that is meant to be a normal part of the Christian life, the decision every day to echo John the Baptist, “I must decrease, he must increase.” Or St. Paul: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by being conformed to his death.” Or Jesus himself: “Take up your cross daily and follow me.”
It seems to me that the signal events help form a disposition of surrender to the Lord, even as the daily embrace of this disposition (to the best of our ability and understanding at the time) helps prepare us for the signal events.
That’s why Christianity never grows old, I suppose.
A nice choice for a meditation by Peter for the Triduum, and I enjoyed Mark Jameson’s thoughtful remarks. I guess it’s not surprising that all of the great faith traditions contain some aspect of dying to self and spiritual surrender. Buddhists, for example, seek complete dying to self, and Muslims chose the Arabic word for surrender, Islam, as the name of their religion. For Christians, we come face to face with dying to self and surrender to Christ tomorrow on Good Friday. The encounter is both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
The writer Simone Weil wrote, “On God’s part creation is not an act of self-expansion but of restraint and renunciation. God and all his creatures are less than God alone. God accepted this diminution. He emptied a part of his being from himself…God permitted the existence of things distinct from himself and worth infinitely less than himself…God denied himself for your
sakes in order to give us the possibility of denying ourselves for him.”
For most of us the imperfect self is what we emphasize in our lives. Weil tell us that self surrender, self renunciation, self restraint, self diminution leads to a new life that can actually tempt us to make love our ultimate goal. It is a journey of success and failure and of certainty and doubt. There is no discernible before and after point for most of us. It is hoped that God will remove our ambition and replace it with resolve.
Jesus emptied himself of his own will and became entirely receptive to God who he called Father. Just like any human being, Jesus slept, ate, suffered, died and experienced temptation.
David Nickol, thank you so much for sharing that foot-washing anecdote. Extremely moving!
The theologian David Tracy reminds us that love is primairly about equal regard:
“This insight is especially necessary to remind us how ever-so-noble an ideal as `self-sacrifice’ can be consciously or unconsciously misused by the powerful. Self-sacrifice may indeed
prove an inappropriate ideal for the understanding of love by oppressed and marginalized peoples. Love should empower all Christians.”