A mucky tradition

What is it with the washing of feet?

For us, in our heavily shoed and socked culture (well, for men, anyway) the washing of feet seems a rather odd custom. After all, unlike Jesus’ day, it is not something we normally do to welcome visitors to our house. We might expect them to remove their shoes to protect the carpet, but for us to wash their feet ... I don’t think so. And while ladies may often bare their feet, men do rarely. Couldn’t we rather just note the symbolism of the gesture, the warmth of the welcome, the humility of Christ.

Yes, we could, but let us not lose sight of the physicality of the gesture. In fact, Holy Week is all about physicality. Jesus does not say the disciples are welcome, or portray a humble attitude, but he washes their feet. He does not sit and meditate in silence, but he prays out loud, ‘Father take this cup away from me’. He does not just say our sins are forgiven, or pray for reconciliation with the Father, but he suffers and dies on the cross. He does not just tell us that one day we shall dwell with him in heaven, but his body rises from death and eats with his disciples. It is not simply ideas, or thoughts, or beliefs. These are actions, events, physical encounters.

And so too with the Mass. He does not simply say - you are in communion with me - you are close to me in spirit - I will always be in your heart and your memories. No, he says do this to remember me. He takes bread and wine. He blesses, breaks and shares. He says this is my body and blood - not represents, not stands for, nor reminds you of - but is. Physically, really, truly.

Whatever our ideas, or thoughts, or beliefs, however much or little we understand, what we never must neglect is what we do. Actions speak louder than words.

That is why we wash the feet.

---

This is adapted from my homily for Maundy Thursday

Holy Week starts here

Is it wrong, I wonder, for me to say that I love Holy Week?

It seems a bit wrong - after all - it is an immensely sad time, when we recall betrayal, torture, suffering and death. The music with its minor keys takes up the sad tone. The ceremonies in their plainness and their drama are poignant and moving. It is Easter, after all, which is the time of joy  … not Holy Week.

But of course, we embark on Holy Week knowing already the end of the story. We traipse the way of the cross guided by the light of the resurrection. The betrayal and agony in the Garden of Maundy Thursday would be bleak, were it not for the promise of new life revealed in the Mass. The suffering and sacrifice of Good Friday would be crushing, were it not for the laying of his body in a tomb which waits for a new dawn. And as we set the new fire on Holy Saturday - we already know that the sacrifice has burnt away sins and his light leads us on to his new life.

And this weekend, as we hold our Palm Crosses, which at the same time represent both the cheers and jeers of the crowds, we share in this hard road which leads to his victory. It is a Holy Week not because it is sad, but it is a Holy Week because together we walk this road with Christ. And that I think is why I love Holy Week - because like life itself, it is journey which we never walk on our own.

---

This is adapted from my homily for Palm Sunday. For more homilies go here.

The date of Easter ...

We had a meeting of Eucharistic ministers this evening. Well, extraordinary ministers of the Eucharist, as we are supposed to call them, though this is rather a mouthful. They renew their commitment next week, on Maundy Thursday, and we will also be admitting some new ministers.

But we have a problem. Several of the ministers, very well established members of the parish, cannot be here. It is not because they are working, or can't get transport, or because they have to look after children or an elderly relative. No, the reason they won't be here on Maundy Thursday is because they will be on holiday. In Holy Week. I have already been told by several altar servers that they will not be here in Holy Week - we will struggle with some of the ceremonies because of this. Another parishioner tells me that though she will be with us on Good Friday she won't be here for Easter because she too will be on holiday. In Turkey. Not much chance of her finding a Catholic Church there.

What can we do? The odd raised eyebrow and even the sarastic commdent has little impact. We are trying hard to recruit altar servers and ministers of the Eucharist, so striking them off because they are on holiday in Holy Week is not likely to be a fruitful course of action. Too late now, but I wondered whether way back at the end of last year I should have made a point of telling people not to plan to go away for Holy Week, or at least to make sure that they will going somewhere where they can be sure of finding a Catholic Church on Easter Day. Something to try and remember for the autumn.

Of course we do need some perspective and proportion in all this. Easter has always been a holiday time, and aren't holidays and holy days much the same thing? Should we begrudge the worker his or her break from toil?

Then I had another thought. In modern society - secularised and secularising society - there is often renewed consideration of the date of Easter, and in particular the unsettling effect which the variable date has on the routine or working life. In particular, schools often find an early or late Easter can make very long or very short spring and summer terms, and in the secondary school this can be very disruptive to the timetable of exam preparation. Every couple of years  we hear of local authorities making proposals for fixed length terms, the Easter weekend being only that, with the statutory days off for Good Friday and Easter Monday only.

And I have always been one of those who wailed in protest at this. It relegates the importance of Easter ... it is advanced secularisation ... it neglects the importance of Easter for the Catholic school.

But now I am beginning to wonder. If schools were usually working in Holy Week, there would be much less pressure for workplaces to have this as a holiday time too. People would not be naturally led to take holidays away over this holy season. And actually it may allow us to rediscover the Triduum, as the Long Easter Weekend, which would be given far greater precedence. And perhaps in this Catholic Schools could take a lead - at the very least by never allowing Holy Week to be a holiday week.

Otherwise, I am left only with the raised eyebrow, the sarcastic comment and the hopeless resolution to remember to mention something in the autumn.