Holy Thursday

“Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”

Here are four words to consider on Holy Thursday: give and receive, take and make.

Give and receive describe the basic economy of family life and God's providence. At the family table we give to the hungry as much as they need. We receive from the family table as much as we need.

But sin often creeps into these transactions. Perhaps I am afraid I won’t get as much as I need. Perhaps I want more than I actually need. Or I want to hoard some of today’s meal for tomorrow. So I take the food, instead of receiving it. I don’t accept it with a grateful heart, and I fail to acknowledge the gift. I think I am only getting what I deserve or have earned. I don’t owe anyone thanks.

Operating in fear and taking more than I need, I fail to notice I have deprived someone else of what she needs. Or, if I do notice, I think I am more deserving, or she is less deserving, or she doesn’t really need it. I think my need is more worthy of attention than hers.

Even when the food is freely given to me, I don’t receive it; I take it. I am controlled by gluttony rather than gratitude.

The companion of taking is making. Instead of giving food to the hungry, I make them eat. I force on on them things I want them to have. I don’t ask; I don’t care what they actually need. I’ve already made that decision without consulting them. If they know what’s good for them, they’ll accept my charity!

Why would anyone do that? It happens all the time. They want “to be helpful.” They want “to be generous.” They want to be regarded as good people. They are doing what they want to do, not what is needed, or what God asks. They are contolled by their own desires, preferences, shortcomings and needs.
They are the classic do-gooders, acting without guidance from the Holy Spirit or much attention to any reality beyond themselves. There is always a quid pro quo, a hidden agenda with their gifts. They want appreciation, recognition or gratitude. They want someone to notice the sacrifice they’re making.

Those are not evil desires; they’re part of our human nature, and they have their place within the graced economy of giving/receiving. A person who gives something should be thanked; her generosity should be recognized. The principle of Justice requires that. But when they become the real motives, the hidden agenda, the gifts are tainted.

Those who receive these contaminated gifts often suspect what is happening. And, if they’re clever, they know how to play the game of gratitude. They kowtow with ingratiating humility. The whole transaction is a farce, a mockery of the economy God has spelled out for us.

God’s plan is simpler, more graceful, less stressful, and a lot more fun. Most of us know this from our earliest memories of the family meal. Everyone has a place; everyone is welcome; everyone can eat as much as he needs, confident there will be more tomorrow. We give because we have something to give. We receive because we have been welcomed to the table and gratitude wells up within us for the gifts. In God’s economy there is always enough, and rarely too much. (Of course, we probably also remember, our generous parents taught us to say please and thank you. We had to be taught to notice our neediness and our gratitude.)

The Book of Exodus tells the story of the Hebrews in the desert. God provided food for them in the form of manna. It was some kind of bread-like substance that lay on the ground, fresh every morning. The word manna means “What is it?” because they didn’t know what that stuff was! Moses instructed them to gather the what-is-it? and eat it. Take as much as you need but do not store up for tomorrow. When everyone had collected some of the manna, they found that every family had enough and no family had too much. Those who hoarded more for the morrow found it rotted overnight.  But on Friday there was more than enough for one day; the manna kept overnight and lasted through the Sabbath.

As we receive the Eucharist we should practice giving and receiving. The priest, deacon or Eucharistic Minister gives the Sacrament, and the communicants receive it on the palm of their hands or on their tongues. But some people take the Eucharist with their fingers from me. Or worse, they lunge forward and grab it with their lips and I have to wipe my dripping fingers on my chasuble. Fortunately that is not common.

Saint Francis practiced this way of life. He insisted on storing nothing for tomorrow. “Look at the birds of the air!” He said, “They do not sow or reap or gather into barns. Their Father provides all they need day by day.” Francis practiced the poverty of Jesus, allowing God to provide for him from “the table of the poor.” That is, when he could not earn enough food for the day, he begged for more. He found that, even when he went hungry, he had enough. He refused to accept money for his work; that would be storing up for tomorrow.

Although few of us are called to live as Saint Francis lived – even Jesus had a bursar (Judas Iscariot!) – we can practice the attitudes of giving and receiving, and beware of taking or making.

The act of giving/receiving is a marvelously intimate transaction. Neither party is self-conscious. Both are aware of the precious gift. They say, “I am so glad I can give this to you.” and “I am so glad to receive this from you.” The one who receives gives gratitude; the one who gives receives appreciation. Grace flows in every direction.

Saint Paul said, “For freedom Christ set you free!” Learning to accept kindness when it is offered – as Peter did when Jesus washed his feet – and to give with confidence in the God who provides even for the birds of the air, we discover the freedom of God's children.