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Holy Thursday - Foot washing |
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By Christina, Ellen, and Elinor Capecchi - For The Catholic Spirit
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Wednesday, 01 April 2009 |
Finding new meaning in ancient symbols: Three generations reflect
The writersChristina Capecchi, 26, is a freelance writer and a member of St. Patrick in Inver Grove Heights.
Ellen Capecchi, 53, also a member of St. Patrick, serves as director of recreation and chaplain services at Presbyterian Homes in Inver Grove Heights.
Elinor Capecchi, 76, is a member of St. Joseph in West St. Paul and a busy grandmother.
Holy Week is replete with rich symbols.
“The triduum is the shortest liturgical season of the year, and it’s separate and complete by itself — it is, in a sense, a microcosm or a capsule of the entire liturgical year,” said Father Paul Moudry, pastor of St. Margaret Mary in Golden Valley.
This Holy Week reflection highlights one symbol per day, gathering liturgical background from Father Moudry and personal reflections from three generations of women: Christina Capecchi, her mom, Ellen, and her grandma, Elinor.
Father Moudry: On Holy Thursday, we celebrate the ministry and
mission of Jesus Christ. One of the rituals that really points us to
what we are to be in our discipleship, that Jesus has given us in the
Gospel and his action, is: “What I have done for you, so you are to do
for others.”
This is the commission he gave his apostles and they passed it on to
all baptized in Christ: We are to serve others. [Washing his apostles’
feet] was a radical gesture at the time because those in places of
authority were waited on, and Jesus came to serve, rather than be
served.
Christina: We feel vulnerable when we place our bare feet in
another person’s hands, especially the hands of a stranger. We want to
spout off prefaces and apologies for their sorry state. But this
liturgical ritual is a wordless exchange, with the emphasis on the act
itself, performed with a neighborly swiftness.
It is a lesson for those of us who struggle to accept help that is
readily available. Humbling ourselves enough to permit a helping hand
is a gift we can give others, letting them exercise some capability and
taste the joy of service.
In our solemn remembrance of the Eucharist’s institution, we
acknowledge that our love of God is inextricably linked to our love of
neighbor. One deepens the other.
This Holy Thursday, I’m remembering the people who have shown me such
generous help during these early, critical junctures in my professional
and personal life. It’s my turn to get on my knees and serve. I’m due
for the smelly feet.
Ellen: Such an earthly gesture — what we might expect from a
king born in a lowly manger, surrounded by barnyard animals and their
foul odors.
Since my kids always told me my feet are hideous, I’ve allowed precious
few to examine them. So when I served at a foot-washing station, I
steeled myself in case I’d encounter others’ corns, bunions or ingrown
nails. I willed myself transparent to assuage any parishioners’
embarrassment. And I gulped when our priest came to my station. Hoping
the cold water wouldn’t startle him, I poured it down my wrist so as it
trickled over my palm it might be slightly warmed.
For each who came to my station, I offered a prayer of thanksgiving for
the spiritual journeys their feet had carried them on thus far.
This Holy Thursday, I’m praying they find the courage to continue their
journeys. Strength to bury a grandson. Peace while caregiving for a
spouse. Stamina to dance at a granddaughter’s wedding. And perseverance
to put one foot in front of the other.
Elinor: I never connected this with my own life until this year,
when I was forced to be absolutely dependent on others to take care of
me after I had surgery. It was a helpless feeling, and I was so
thankful for the wonderful nurses and aides who tended to my needs,
including washing my feet. Their gift of service was so enormous in
comparison with anything I could do for others at that time.
Being a 75-year-old grandma who was used to doing everything myself,
and sometimes helping others, made it difficult to accept. But my
helpers reflected the love God has for us in every situation — wow,
what a lesson!
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