First Reading (Exodus 12,1-8.11-14)
Reading of the Book of Exodus.
In those days: The Lord said to Moses and Aaron in Egypt: “This month will be the beginning of the months for you; it will be the first month of the year. Speak to the whole community of the children of Israel, saying: ‘On the tenth day of this month, let each one take a lamb for each family, a lamb for each house. If the family is not large enough to eat a lamb, they will also invite the nearest neighbor, according to the number of people. You must calculate the number of diners, according to the size of the lamb. The lamb will be without blemish, a male, a year old. You can choose either a lamb or a kid, and you must keep it tied up until the fourteenth day of this month. Then the whole community of Israel together will slaughter it in the evening. This is how you should eat it: with your waist girded, sandals on your feet and staff in your hands. And that night I will pass through the land of Egypt, and I will smite all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both man and beast; and I, the Lord, will inflict punishment on all the gods of Egypt. The blood will serve as a sign in the houses where you are. When I see the blood, I will pass on, and the exterminating plague will not strike you when I strike the land of Egypt. This day will be a memorable feast for you in honor of the Lord, which you will celebrate for all generations, as a perpetual institution.
– Word of the Lord.
– Thank God.
Second Reading (1Cor 11,23-26)
Reading of the First Letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians.
Brothers: What I received from the Lord is what I passed on to you: On the night he was handed over, the Lord Jesus took bread and, after giving thanks, broke it and said: “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in memory of me.” In the same way, after supper, he also took the cup and said: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. As often as you drink from it, do this in memory of me.” Every time, in fact, that you eat this bread and drink this cup, you will be proclaiming the death of the Lord until he comes.
– Word of the Lord.
– Thank God.
Gospel (John 13,1-15)
— Proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ according to Saint John.
— Glory to you, Lord.
It was before the feast of Easter. Jesus knew that his time had come to pass from this world to the Father; having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. They were having supper. The devil had already placed in the heart of Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, the purpose of betraying Jesus. Jesus, knowing that the Father had placed everything in his hands and that he had come from God and was returning to God, got up from the table, took off his cloak, took a towel and tied it around his waist. He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel with which he was girded. It’s Simão Pedro’s turn. Peter said, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “Now you don’t understand what I’m doing; later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet!” But Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you will have no part with me.” Simon Peter said, “Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.” Jesus replied: “Whoever has already bathed only needs to wash his feet, because they are already completely clean. You too are clean, but not all of them.” Jesus knew who was going to hand him over; That’s why he said: “Not all of you are clean.” After washing the disciples’ feet, Jesus put on his cloak and sat down again. And he said to his disciples, “Do you understand what I have just done? You call me Master and Lord, and you say well, for I am. Therefore, if I, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have given you an example, that you should do the same thing as I did.
— Word of Salvation.
— Glory to you, Lord.
Reflecting the Word of God
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
There are moments in life when a seemingly simple gesture carries such a profound meaning that it forever transforms our understanding of love and service. Imagine the scene: a quiet room in Jerusalem, twilight announcing the arrival of Easter, and in the center of that space, the Creator of the universe himself kneeling, with a basin of water, washing the dusty feet of fishermen and tax collectors. This image, so vivid in today’s Gospel, invites us on a journey through time and space, connecting us with the essence of our faith and Christian identity.
The readings we have just heard tell us the story of the greatest revolution of love in human history. A revolution that began millennia ago, with a people enslaved in Egypt, and that finds its fullest expression in the Christ who kneels to serve and who gives himself like broken bread and spilled wine.
In the first reading, from the book of Exodus, we are transported to that terribly decisive night in Egypt. The people of Israel are about to be freed after generations of slavery. But before liberation, there is a ritual to be observed, a lamb to be sacrificed, its blood to be applied to the doorposts. “It is the Lord’s Passover”, says the text. This is not just an empty ritual or primitive superstition. It is a profound encounter with the God who liberates, who intervenes in history, who cares about the suffering of his people.
The instructions are meticulous and full of meaning: the lamb without blemish, the blood on the doors, the roasted meat consumed with bitter herbs and unleavened bread, the clothes tied and the feet shod, as if ready for an urgent journey. This meal is not a relaxed feast; It is provision for the journey, food for liberation.
And God says: “This day will be a feast for you, and you will celebrate it as a feast for the Lord.” Memory here is not a simple recollection of past events. In the Hebrew mentality, making memory is making that salvific reality present, it is participating again in that liberating event. Each Jewish generation that celebrates Passover is not just remembering the Exodus – it is, in a sense, crossing the Red Sea again, experiencing liberation in its own flesh.
It is precisely in this context of living memory and liberation that we find Jesus, on the eve of his Passion, celebrating Easter with his disciples. And it is here that Paul, in the second reading, tells us the extraordinary moment in which Jesus transforms this ancestral ritual into something completely new and yet in perfect continuity with its original meaning.
“On the night he was handed over,” writes Paul, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and said, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper, he took the cup and said: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. As often as you drink from it, do so in remembrance of me.”
Here is the new Passover lamb, Jesus himself, who will be sacrificed not for temporary liberation from physical slavery, but for the eternal redemption of humanity from sin and death. Here is the new exodus, the new journey – not through the Red Sea to a geographical promised land, but through death to resurrection, to eternal life in God.
And Paul adds a crucial phrase: “As often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes.” This celebration is not just a reminder of the past; it is a prophetic announcement of the future, a proclamation of the hope that sustains us as we walk between the “already” of redemption and the “not yet” of the fullness of the Kingdom.
But Jesus didn’t stop there. The Gospel of John shows us an additional dimension of this revolution of love. While the other evangelists focus on the institution of the Eucharist, John introduces us to the washing of the feet – a gesture as shocking and radical in its context as the transformation of bread and wine into body and blood.
“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given everything into his hands and that he had come from God and was returning to God, got up from supper, took off his cloak, took a towel and tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet.”
Contemplate this scene for a moment. The Son of God, aware of his divine origin and his glorious destiny, chooses precisely this moment to carry out the work of a slave. Washing guests’ feet was the task reserved for the humblest servant in the house. It was a service considered so degrading that not even Jewish slaves could be forced to perform it.
And it is this service that Jesus, knowing himself as Lord and Master, chooses to carry out. This is not an abstract lesson in humility; it is a visceral, physical demonstration of a love that completely empties itself, that knows no limits in its willingness to serve.
Peter, always impetuous, resists: “You will never wash my feet!” Your resistance is understandable. It is the resistance we all feel to God’s radical love, a love that challenges us, that inverts our hierarchies, that questions our assumptions about dignity and status. It is the resistance we feel when we are asked to abandon our pride and our sense of self-sufficiency.
But Jesus insists: “Unless I wash you, you will have no part with me.” This washing is not just a moral example; it is a necessary participation in the mystery of Christ. We need to be cleansed by Him, we need to receive His loving service, before we can truly follow and serve Him.
And then comes the command that ties it all together: “I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so should you.” Foot washing and the Eucharist are inseparable. We cannot receive the Body and Blood of Christ without committing to living the same sacrificial love that they represent. We cannot participate at the Lord’s table without being willing to kneel and serve, especially the youngest and most vulnerable.
Brothers and sisters, today’s readings confront us with the essence of our Christian identity. We are an Easter people, marked by the blood of the Lamb, fed by His body and blood, called to a journey of liberation and loving service.
This is not a comfortable message. It goes against the grain of a culture obsessed with power, status and immediate gratification. It challenges our own tendencies toward selfishness and self-preservation. But it is a message that, if truly embraced, has the power to transform not just our individual lives, but entire families, communities, and eventually, the world.
What does it mean for us today to participate in this revolution of love? It means recognizing that, like the people of Israel in Egypt, we are constantly in need of liberation – from the bondages of sin, of fear, of greed, of prejudice. It means allowing the blood of the Lamb to mark the doors of our hearts, allowing the body of Christ to nourish us for the journey.
It also means being willing to take off our robes of comfort and privilege, tie the service towel around our waist, and kneel before others – especially those whom society deems less worthy. It means washing tired feet, feeding the hungry, comforting the afflicted, defending the oppressed.
And it means doing all of this not as a heavy burden or an oppressive duty, but as a natural response to the extraordinary love we first receive from God. As Saint John says in his first letter: “We love because He first loved us.”
Imagine what our world would be like if every Christian truly lived this revolution of love. If every time we partook of the Eucharist, we recommitted ourselves to being bread broken and wine poured out for others. If every time we remembered foot washing, we looked for new ways to serve, especially those most in need.
The transformative power of this revolution of love is limitless because its source is God himself. And it is to this revolution that we are called, not as distant spectators, but as active participants, as disciples who follow in the footsteps of the Master who knelt to serve.
That as we celebrate these sacred mysteries, we can open ourselves completely to the transforming grace they contain. May we gratefully receive the Body and Blood of Christ, and then go out to be the Body of Christ to a world hungry for authentic love and selfless service.
And may the God who freed us from slavery, who gave himself to us as the bread of life, and who knelt to wash our feet, give us the courage and strength to do the same for others. Amen.
