For the past seven years I’ve been in four different parishes for the service on Holy Thursday. In every one of them I was asked to get my feet washed. Do I seem to need to learn the lesson of this Gospel more than the next person in the pew? What goes on here? I understand this ritual is about humility, service and reciprocity. I see the irony that it is just as humbling to be the one having your feet washed as it is to be the one doing the washing. No matter who you are you can always be more humble. The towel and the basin are beautiful symbols – great images for sketching. I can’t help thinking this ritual needs to be more than a quaint service in which we stumble over each other trying to outdo each other in humility. Its too orchestrated and symbolic and not what real service looks like to me at all.
I am reminded too that caregivers need to be careful that they are not offering service out of their own need to serve rather than the need of the one they care for to receive that service. We see pairs of people who become codependent: one needing to be helped all the time and the other having an addiction to be helpful. We can make invalids of each other in our competition to be caring. Radical hospitality goes beyond symbolic service and beyond the desire to make ourselves feel better by being the most humble servant of all, the servant of the servants of the servants, the poorest of the poorest of the poor. True service is compassion that flows naturally out of a good heart in practical actions with no fuss and no muss. This kind of service happens every day because someone notices what is needed and does it. It happens because people care about one another without wanting or needing recognition or even a return of affection for the services they offer.
I know the washing of the feet on Holy Thursday is a reminder to the priests that even among the apostles being top dog didn’t mean getting the top honors. And priests are reminding us that same lesson goes for the rest of us too. It is true that sisters as well as priests, sometimes lord it over others. Indubitably. But it is also true that members of the laity sometimes lord it over priests and sisters too. Radical hospitality doesn’t mean welcoming each other because we are all equals in the eyes of God. More often than not that happens naturally. When it doesn’t, it is because of the self-righteousness of a few who frankly ought to know better.
Radical hospitality means welcoming those who are nearly impossible to welcome because they do not even come close to our image of what is humble, decent or deserving. It is about finding the self-righteous woman who tsks through her teeth at the homeless man on the street and making her feel welcome and loved. It is about finding the indecent man who makes lewd gestures behind the backs of unsuspecting strangers and making him feel welcome and loved. It is about finding the undeserving child who is repeatedly held back for bad behavior and bad grades and making him or her feel welcome and loved. The community of faith that prepares us to do these things without giving them a second thought can hold a Holy Thursday service with or without the basin and towel and know that Christ is present.
Pondering hospitality today I went out to sit on the bench by a jasmine bower in the back yard. A deer came by and stood in the tall grass and looked at me. He was a young male deer with fuzzy little three inch antlers. He sneezed twice and looked at me as if worried I might have noticed him. I smiled at him and then looked away as if I hadn’t noticed, so he wouldn’t feel stared at. He looked away too. Then he lay down not ten feet from my bench and nestled his head on his front legs. Radical hospitality can happen just like that without so much as a thank you, dear.
