Integral Trust: the emblematic Action, generating the undefiled

Jn 13:1-15 (.16-20)

 

Let us introduce the meaning of the Lord's washing of the feet, an emblematic gesture that the Synoptics evoke in the Breaking of Bread.

In ancient Israel, the patriarchal family, clan and community were the basis of social coexistence.

They guaranteed the transmission of the identity of the people, and provided protection for the afflicted.

Defending the clan was also a concrete way of confirming the First Covenant.

But at the time of Jesus, Galilee suffered both the segregation dictated by Herod Antipas' policy and the oppression of official religiosity.

The wimpy collaborationism of the ruler had accentuated the number of homeless and unemployed.

The political and economic conjuncture forced people to retreat into material and individual problems, or those of a small family.

At one time, the identity bond of clan and community guaranteed an internal character of a solidary nation, expressed in the defence and relief given to the less fortunate of the people.

Now, this fraternal bond was weakened, plastered over, almost contradicted - also because of the strict attitude of the religious authorities, fundamentalist and lovers of a saccharine purism, opposed to mixing with the less affluent classes.

The written and oral Law ended up being used not to favour the welcoming of the marginalised and needy, but to accentuate detachment and ghettoisation.

A situation that was leading the least protected sections of the population to collapse.

In short, the alliance-loving devotion between throne and altar - instead of strengthening the sense of community, was used to accentuate hierarchies; as a weapon that legitimised a whole mentality of exclusions (and confirmed the imperial logic of divide and rule).

Jesus, on the other hand, wants to return to the Father's Dream: the ineliminable one of fraternity, the only seal to salvation history.

 

According to a felicitous expression of Origen, the Eucharist is the wound in Christ's side that is always open; but Vatican II did not spend a single word on the multiple Eucharistic devotions.

In order for us to fully understand his Person, the Council fathers were well aware that Jesus did not leave a statue or a relic. He preferred to express himself in a gesture, which challenges us.

In the Jewish world, in the evening each family gathered around the table, and breaking bread was the most significant moment of their experience of conviviality - and memory of the handing over of self to others.

The one bread was divided and shared among all the family members - but even a poor hungry person could come to the door, which did not have to be locked.

Bread and wine, products that had assimilated the energies of heaven and earth, were recognised with spiritual sensitivity - gifts from the Creator for the life and joy of humanity.

In that culture, bread is basic food. But our life is only complete if there is also the element of celebration: there is wine.

Even today, bread is not cut with a knife, to respect its sacredness: only broken. It contains concrete existence.

That is why Jesus chose the banquet as a sign of his Person - life, word, risky business and new happiness, given in food.

 

At family dinners, bread and wine were not perceived in the same way as manna, that is, as raw, natural products. Nor was it nourishment to regain strength, and that's all.

In the wheat and grapes, all the varied contributions of the domestic hearth were also gathered.

Around the table, each man saw in the bread and wine the fruit of his labour: cleaning the soil, ploughing, sowing, sowing, reaping, pruning, harvesting and pressing.

The woman captured in the bread her labour: grinding, kneading, baking. Even minors could remember something of their own, because little boys would lend themselves (e.g. draw water).

Dinner was a celebration of harmony. The table was precisely a place where young people were educated in the perception of existing in unity, rather than in disinterest.

This was done with gratitude towards God's gifts and perception of one's own contribution, which had (really) reached its goal, in the spirit of synergy and singular commitment to communion.

Contributions, resources and skills agreed to put themselves in service, for the life of all.

In the Eucharistic gesture, Jesus says: new heavens and new earth do not correspond to the world in which each one hastens to reap for himself or his circle, in order to grab the maximum of resources.

His Kingdom? All invited and brothers in agreement, none master or ruler - destined to be in front or above [though quicker than the others] even in heaven.

Even the Apostles - called by Jesus with Himself but still remaining at a safe distance from Him (cf. e.g. Lk 9:10, 12) - are not the owners of the Bread, but those who are to give it to all (vv.13.16), to create abundance where there is none.

 

To animate the meetings on the theme of the Eucharist as a non-misleading icon, and to internalise how in the Catholic Church itself there has been a decisive evolution towards understanding the efficacy of the Sign, I use to compare two great works of art.

Raphael in the so-called Dispute of the Sacrament depicts a sacred and static world. Today we would say at a glance, almost plasticised.

An environment that seems all predictable and in any case characterised by a situated social, cultural and spiritual pattern; where everyone is placed according to origin, position, status, and rank.

 

Arcabas - a recently deceased French artist - paints a picture that seems devoid of exclusive, distinct and titled protagonists: as if cut above, or (better) focused on the simple gesture.

To put it eloquently: the garnish of lavish decorations or prominent roles is not about this life proposal!

In the contemporary painter's work, we grasp the sobriety of a Person and of a well-centred mission [which scratches, but makes one lose one's head far more than beautiful scripts].

For in the world of Love, the best is yet to come. In this way, we are relentlessly questioned.

Arcabas illustrates a simply laid table: a plate, certainly not from the best collection, a glass of wine with no frills; a tablecloth simply laid on the table and marked by its perfunctory folds, not even ironed, reminiscent of real everyday life.

And above all, the normal gesture of breaking bread, that of the step by step, with its crumbs that are neither fluffy nor white. To say: the Eucharistic Banquet is not for the hereafter - who knows when.

[For almost a thousand years, the Catholic Church celebrated with daily bread as the Orthodox Church still does, for example. As testimony, there are still very large dinner trays, today reduced to a saucer].

 

In short, here comes the 'Hour'... and the emblematic Action - in Jn, which does not formally recount the institution of the Eucharist.

Here is the meaning of breaking bread: what it entails to enter into co-existence, for the apostle overturns hierarchies and subverts the criteria of purity, uniformity, compactness, and glory.

 

In the Fourth Gospel, Christ proclaims only two Beatitudes:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, there is no greater servant than his lord, nor greater sent than he that sent him. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them" (Jn 13:16-17).

And to Thomas: "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed" (Jn 20:29b) - this, not because effort is a means to accumulate sorrows and merits, and so please God.

The two Beatitudes of Jn guarantee the tracks on which the believer finds his full realisation and the wonder of happiness: the practice of charity that recovers all the being dispersed, including others, in the adventure of Faith.

Before and during ritual meals, the pious of Israel performed ablutions with water, to celebrate the separation between the sacred and the profane, between the pure and the impure.

At the head of the table, hands were washed by a servant or the youngest of the guests.

With Jesus, tradition is shattered from within - to the amazed. 

For a Jew, washing others was something he had to refuse to do, even if enslaved, lest he dishonour the people. 

Instead, the Messiah prostrates himself and has the freedom to wash [not even his hands, but] his feet.

An absurd revelation of the Face of God, which crumbles countless mannerisms, hopes of artificial prestige; and acts of submission, grotesque acknowledgements - advanced by church princes.

Here is not only an invitation to serve one's neighbour... a gesture to imitate that proclaims the humble service character of the ministry.

It is also a sign of the purification of his own - like a new baptism that makes one immediately part of God's world.

This 'washing' is a figure of the Person and Mission of the Son on behalf of mankind, all of whom are now enabled to pass from this set-up to the Father's Kingdom.

And in the same way to pass the neighbour, the multitudes.

 

The Master unites a group of even unconvinced disciples to himself, but made pure - not because he aims to form a school distinct from others, or even one-sided.

He calls by Name and creates Assembly to introduce us into Love, into the passage from slavery to the freedom of the Free, which descends.

God does not identify people, nor does He superimpose His own thoughts on people's history and sensibilities.

By stooping, he crosses roles, club spirit, ideas themselves, and certificates. An initiative - this one - exemplary.

Indeed, in his Exodus, he traces the new path of the people, even of those who are against - and this baffles, it seems unacceptable. 

Peter is eager to command: he is not up to introducing himself into a logic that manifests even in community leaders a God who is a servant of men, independent of their origins, or their backgrounds.By lowering himself to the level of the slave who lays down his garments, the Lord wants to humanise us, recovering instead the opposites, rooted in a particular way and in each person.

He even admits contestation - highlighting it and healing it.

That is, unless one remains like Judas stubbornly attached to external seductions and false spiritual guides: to the clichés of social belonging-approval, and self-interest.

 

Finally, Jesus does not take off his apron, before putting his clothes back on: it is the only uniform that belongs to him.

That kind of dress stays with him: he wears it even in Paradise.

He does not play the part of the caretaker, to return to heaven to lord it over us. He does not condition anyone.

The Life of the Father pursues us on every path, to make us feel adequate: One-Body-Only with the Son, to whom he has delivered everything into his hands (v.3).

Total bloom for us too; indestructible, eminent, in itself devoid of occult deadly germs.

His Trust is passed on in salvation history; it is unfolded to the undecided and imperfect, his kinsmen in the Son.

Ready to lift us up to an existence that no longer extinguishes being - and us eager to make it flourish, instead of boycotting or borrowing it.

Adopted sons: not a diminution, but the distinguished recognition of an equality that does not jar.

In ancient times, when a ruler designated a successor to the throne, he not infrequently appointed as dignitary a valiant more trustworthy than his kinsman in the natural line (often scheming, spoilt, fed up with his own prosperity).

 

God does not force us together. By bending, it overrides the spirit of marginalisation, parties, characters; all salvation.

This is the 'service' of the disciples, to be performed with life and the proclamation of the good news: to make known that the Father is not the selective God of religion, but the unconditional lover of woman and man.

Love is communicated from peer to peer and has the same pace as life: it cannot be bridled by inherited opinions or fixed conventions, nor subjected to casuistic narratives.

Only the awareness of a freedom that remains will lead to gestures of clear-cut completeness.

Not for opportunist and individual advantage: for the sake of Joy in fullness of being and intensity of relationship.

In any external circumstance, only the esteem that the Father accords to each one leads the children and their stories towards acts of conviviality and inexplicable recoveries.

 

Jesus washing feet depicts the secret of the blissful life that expands the way of the I into that of the Thou: in being genuine and free even to descend, even to bend down to serve.

Without labyrinths of norms or lofty cries of principle; without compromising the most genuine spontaneity and slenderness - without yielding to mistrust of the imperfection of others.

Overriding the typical interdiction respectability, therefore without the usual rigmarole - so beloved of the owners, always distanced and apprehensive, on any front.

Herein arises frankness in the baptismal attitude... celebrating existence in all its forms, beyond boundaries; trusting in life, in its natural and opposite polarities.

Allowing for other developments and expansions. Opening one's eyes to the world - the cornerstone of new relationships, replacing one-sided customs, or external fashions.

Embracing a richer destiny; loving contradictions.

 

A ban on models and the exaggeration of 'capabilities'.

Rather, the search for solutions that trust, without interfering. By rediscovering its humanising nature.

Recognising diversity.

Approving, redeeming and evaluating 'pure' each particular path [the 'washed' feet of each].

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

How do you live your responsibility and personality in Christ according to vv.3-4?

After the Eucharist, do you do as Jesus did, or do you immediately lay down your apron?

 

 

Communion:

Root of being, dreaming energy that reinterprets history

Jn 13:16-20 (.21-38)

 

An 'envoy' is no more than the one who sends him (v.16). The new CEI translation specifies that Jesus does not elect Twelve Apostles as if they were leaders and phenomena destined to have fabulous positions.

His own are quite ordinary people, sent to proclaim; not directors provided with office, but with a humble charge: to be themselves and wash the feet of others. This is their fabric.

The ministerial Church is not that of characters with titles and roles, but of authentic service, not of manner: resigned and non-conformist.

We can only become a continuation of the Mystery that envelops the Person of Christ if we are aware that we are not dual photocopies, nor 'more' than others - let alone the Master.

 

In I Promessi Sposi (The Betrothed), Manzoni narrates that the marquis who succeeds Don Rodrigo ('a good man, not an original') serves the guests at Renzo and Lucia's wedding table.Then, however, he withdraws to dine aloof with Don Abbondio: 'he had as much humility as it took to put himself below those good people, but not to be their equal'.

 

It used to be done this way: social etiquette dictated it.

A mannered style, whereby, in order to please, one accepted to adapt to (extemporary) gestures of alms and benevolence, among very good people - obviously safeguarding the protagonism of positions.

But aligning ourselves with the models does not bring us out of the usual cages; on the contrary, it hides us in the illusion of a change that in reality is not taking place, because the bogus order remains, despite the altruism of appearances - worn for the sake of good intentions.

The portent to which we are called and sent is not to make room for convenient sentiments, but to move from our external summit to the level of others and to stand elbow to elbow, to give everyone the emotion of feeling adequate.

From service to Communion: a unique climate of energy [not always 'according to etiquette' but authentically ours and dreaming] that develops flourishes, triggering impossible recoveries.

From here, we read history anew.

Yet we wonder with what energies to implement it, if at times we ourselves feel incomplete, uncertain in operating; not up to the mark.

 

In the context of the washing of the feet, Jesus reminds us that the disciple should have no illusions: he will not have a splendid career, worldly recognition, or less persecution from the Master as a dowry.

 

According to an ancient mentality, to mistreat an ambassador or messenger was to offend those he represented; to accept him was to honour him.

Here we come to the root of the unveiling mission: welcoming the sent one honours Christ, and in him God himself (v.20).

The apostles are "sent" in this sense, like the Son by the Father. Within this flow, we become a revealing light, fully, without closures.

In short, one of the ways of washing one another's feet (v.14) is precisely to come and feel properly 'sent' - picturing Jesus, and God himself, passing through us.

It is the way of blessedness (v.17) - that of the living Lord - that is the core of the "outgoing Church": adding to beautiful and practical teachings the essential dimension.

Such is the plausible and amiable path, evangelising our Roots. Who does not ask for "resilience" in relationships, only from the "inferiors" of the world.

Salvation in a divine dimension, which takes on value; operated from within the conscience which finds esteem and face, and free ferment that opens hope, orienting.

The deep being of the Friend who has the freedom to come down is expressed in the action. He reveals himself to be the promoter of the unfortunate, not the subtle prevaricator.

 

Making each exodus, our vocational trait carries within it a precious treasure chest, the awareness of the intimate Source of the apostolate, and its precious concatenation that transforms the past into the future.

The resulting sense of completeness and radical meaning is effective. 

It is for those who discover, encounter, feel alive, their own missionary Source - and bear witness to it.

By simply and naturally expressing himself - without forcing or artificiality - he is at the same time for the brothers to be recognised.

 

In short, the service of the ministerial community is not in the dimension of servitude, but of a flow of primal energies, of fabric; wave upon genuine wave.

In all of this, development after development, we re-actualise the epiphany of the Logos in Christ, in the today of being people (shaky yet convinced, tenacious) bound by a fraternal figure of weight.

"I Am" of Ex 3:14 becomes - effortlessly - the communal and welcoming People of the servants filled with self-given dignity.

The eternal element of the Word is preserved and developed by his envoys and by the ministerial, "apostolic" church: both in its original and founding character, and in its connection to the history of each individual.

 

 

To internalise and live the message:

 

What does it mean for you to move from serving to communion? Do you consider this an annoying excess?

Is it enough for you to make others feel good at times, as a protagonist and in a complacent manner, or do you strive to make them feel adequate?