17 & 18 May 2025, 5th SUNDAY OF EASTER
The image of Jesus washing his disciples’ feet on Holy Thursday is iconic. Despite millennia of familiarity, its impact has not faded. The Lord and Master humbling himself as a servant, kneeling with water and towel, remains a powerful sign. It’s not just a gesture of kindness but a prelude to the deeper command Jesus gives: “Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” This is no theory or suggestion. It is a command.
Jesus had spoken of love before: “You shall love the Lord your God… and your neighbour as yourself.” Love of God and neighbour summed up the Law and the Prophets. But that teaching came in a context of challenge and confrontation amidst debates over resurrection, taxes, and authority. It was love spoken in the middle of tension.
Now, in John’s Gospel, Jesus speaks in the quiet intimacy of the Last Supper. Judas has left. The cross looms. And Jesus speaks again of love, but differently. “A new commandment I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you.” Why call this command new?
Because the standard has changed. No longer is love measured by how we wish to be treated, but by how Christ loves us: freely, fully, and sacrificially. He explains in John 15: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” This is the measure. Love that pours itself out. Love that kneels. Love that bleeds. Love that saves. The Incarnation, Cross, and Resurrection are the pattern of this love. God empties himself to share in our humanity. He bears sins that are not his own. He rises to offer us divine life. Christian love isn’t transactional or based on duty. It is rooted in Christ’s total gift of self. It is love shaped like a cross.
This command comes to life in today’s other readings. In Acts, we hear Paul and Barnabas telling the early believers, “It is through many hardships that we must enter the kingdom of God.” The early Church didn’t grow through comfort, but through costly love. Communities were built by people who chose to love through persecution, fatigue, and disagreement. Paul and Barnabas strengthen believers not by removing hardship but by reminding them: love transforms suffering into grace.
Revelation gives us a glimpse of where this love leads. “I saw a new heaven and a new earth… the home of God is among mortals.” This is not escape from the world but its renewal. God desires to dwell with us here and now. Every act of Christlike love helps build this new creation. When we love as Jesus loves, we don’t just reflect heaven; we participate in its unfolding.
And in the Gospel, we’re taken back to that upper room. Jesus, having just washed his disciples’ feet, speaks of his coming glory—not in power, but in sacrifice. And he leaves his disciples with this essential mark of Christian identity: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” Not if you preach well. Not if you win arguments. But if you love.
And this love is not soft or sentimental. It is the love that kneels and the love that endures nails. It is the love that speaks truth without cruelty and serves without expecting return. As St Augustine said, this is not love that flatters or manipulates. It is love that suffers with, rejoices with, and binds us together as children of the same Father. It is love that doesn’t settle for human standards, but reaches toward divine mercy.
The foot-washing of Jesus is more than a symbolic act. It anticipates the total self-emptying of the Cross. The One who is God bows before our littleness, entering into our brokenness to lift us up. He doesn’t love us from a distance, but from the inside of our pain. This is what love looks like. To enter someone else’s wounds. To carry their burdens. To restore them to life by offering your own. This love is not reserved for saints in stained glass. It is meant to be lived by us, here and now.
What does that look like? It’s found not in grand gestures but in consistent acts of mercy. Forgiving someone who’s hurt us not because they deserve it, but because Christ forgave us. Asking forgiveness when we’ve caused harm. Carrying each other’s burdens, whether it’s listening with patience, caring for someone ill, or showing up when it’s inconvenient. Christian love tells the truth, but never with contempt. It offers kindness to those we don’t understand. It replaces resentment with reconciliation. It puts others first, not once in a while, but as a daily practice. It doesn’t wait until we feel strong. It begins where we are, with the grace God gives.
To love as Christ loved may seem impossible. And it is if we try to do it on our own. But we are not alone. We are given grace, especially in the Eucharist. In the East it is called the “Fountain of Immortality.” In the West, the “Bread of Angels.” It is the Body and Blood of Christ, poured out for us and given to us, so we can pour ourselves out for others. When we receive this sacrament, we are not just nourished. We are commissioned.
We are reminded that we belong to Christ. And if we belong to him, then our lives are no longer our own. They are to be lived in love: bold, humble, cruciform love. This is the love that renews the Church. This is the love the world is dying to see. This is the love that reveals God’s presence among us.
So, we must each ask ourselves today: Do I love as Christ has loved me? Have I let his love reshape how I speak, how I forgive, how I serve, how I see others? If not, let today be a turning point. Not out of guilt, but out of grace. Christ is not asking for perfection. He is asking for participation. Begin where you are. Trust the Spirit to do the rest.
Lord Jesus,
You are the Infinite One who made yourself small for us.
Teach us to live these short, fragile lives with love that lasts forever.
When we are weak, be our strength.
When we are tired, be our peace.
When we are wounded, be our healing.
Show us how to forgive.
Show us how to serve.
Show us how to love, not with fear, but with the courage that comes from knowing we belong to you.
May your Spirit fill us, your Body nourish us, and your grace carry us—
so that when our lives are done, love will be what we leave behind.
Amen.