I am writing this from Chicago. This holy week I have been the monastic in residence at the Church of the Holy Cross (Episcopal) in Morgan Park on the South Side. A small African American parish that has been in existence since 1942, the members are not getting any younger, as they say. In fact, several of them are in their mid nineties.
Last night I preached the homily at the Maundy Thursday commemoration of Jesus' last night with his disciples. He washes the feet of these sometimes clueless followers. My take on the text in John 13 is that Jesus does this for the very simple reason of giving them something, an act and interpretive words, to remember him by. Sort of like that battered and chipped platter that your grandma handed down to you just before he died. In this case, Jesus asks us to be humble, kneeling down and serving others. But he asks us also to receive acts of service from others. Reciprocal servanthood is what he is getting at. It is "something to remember me by." Words and action, not a platter. I don't like foot washing (I don't mind washing others' feet, I just don't feel so comfortable having my own feet washed). Yet, here I was the preacher and proclaimer of the gospel of Jesus Christ and, clearly, on this night above all nights, footwashing is involved. I did go forward. What moved me almost to tears were the old people who walked ever so slowly to the front and with pain got down on their knees, washed and dried others' feet, stood up with difficulty (please, God, don't let him lose his balance and fall backwards) and then return to their pews, smiling because they too, maybe too old for lots of things, had complied with Jesus' admonition on the night before he died to wash others' feet. I learned so much about the human spirit just watching these people reverently engage in a truly deep and sacramental act. And, hey, I am almost seventy. I took note. Here is the homily's conclusion: Jesus invites: I am leaving this world. Take this to remember me by: a wash basin, cold water, a towel. Kneel down. Wash. Dry. Let your own feet be washed. Someday you will understand that the things of heaven are right here in what we are doing and in these things--wash basin, towel, water. Jesus says: I wanted to give you something to remember me by. Amen.
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So, here I go again putting up a blog . . . . the last one I managed died about four years ago due to neglect. Well, that was then. For awhile I have had the feeling that I have something to say and that I should commit that something to a blog.
What should you expect on this blog? Thoughts, fragments, stream of consciousness sometimes (okay, I will try to limit that one). And maybe some prayers and poetry. The posts won't be daily but I will try for something once a week or so. You are welcome to post your comments but the comments will be moderated. Any of you who have hung around in the blogosphere know why . . . this is a place where we discuss with respect. So please make this a richer site by sending in your own thoughts, reflections, fragments--even poems and prayers. Doing soul work is always an adventure! |
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March 2023
AuthorDan Hoffman is an Indianapolis USA based spiritual director, supervisor of spiritual directors, and workshop/retreat leader. This occasional blog discusses things he is thinking about and wants to share. Comments are always welcome. |