Holy Thursday 2025

 

Feet are weird.

Some people pay good money for pedicures—massaging, buffing, polishing every little toe.
Others avoid feet like the plague.
They cover them up, hide them in socks year-round, and can’t stand the thought of touching anyone else’s.
Even the word “feet” makes some people squirm.

Ask someone to touch someone else’s feet—and most folks will say, “Absolutely not.”

It’s not hard, then, to understand why Peter was shocked that Jesus would want to wash his feet.

And remember: feet were probably even more unpleasant in Peter’s day than they are now. No nice shoes. No odor eaters. 

Just leather sandals, worn every day over rocky, dusty roads. The disciples walked everywhere—village to village, neighborhood to neighborhood. Their feet were dirty. Tired. Calloused.

And yet—Jesus kneels down, picks up a basin and towel, and washes them.

Peter is appalled. This was the job of a servant, not the Master. Hosts didn’t wash feet. They provided the water and let their servants do the dirty work. 

But Jesus was no ordinary host. He was showing them—and us—a new way of love. He was revealing what discipleship looks like.

“If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet,
you also ought to wash one another’s feet.”

“I give you a new commandment: Love one another.
Just as I have loved you, so you also should love one another.

By this everyone will know you are my disciples—if you have love for one another.”

Tonight we commemorate the Last Supper—when Jesus gave us the priesthood, the Eucharist, and the new commandment to love in humble service.

All three go together. You can’t separate them.

Jesus gave us priests so that we might receive the Eucharist.
He gave us the Eucharist to feed our lives with His presence.
And He gave us His presence so that we could go out and wash one another’s feet:
– comforting the sick,
– welcoming the stranger,
– clothing the poor,
– visiting the prisoner,
– caring for the lonely.

And yes, that call continues after this Holy Night. Every time we gather around this altar and receive the Body and Blood of Christ, we are sent with a mission:

“The Mass is ended. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord—and one another.”

And tonight, in this Jubilee Year of Hope, we remember: we are pilgrims of hope.

Pilgrims need feet. Feet that walk. Feet that serve. Feet that don’t run away from the hard path, but stay close to Jesus and to one another.

The very feet that once made us squirm—are the same feet that carry us together in faith, in love, and in hope.

So as we journey toward the gloom of Good Friday and the glory of Easter Sunday,
Let’s pause and consider:

– Where is Jesus calling us to love through humble service?
– Who are the people in our lives whose feet we are called to wash?
– How might we bless the roads we walk, as parents, teachers, neighbors, and friends—so that, wherever we go, others will see and know:

“These are the disciples of Jesus.”