The Gospel according to Brinks: Homily for Holy Thursday

I’ve never been to Las Vegas.
I’ve never visited a casino or a gambling boat.
But I know a fellow who works at the Crown Victoria
down near Lawrenceburg.

His job is to collect the money from the tables.
The first week on the job, the amounts he carried unnerved him.
But he got used to it.
After awhile, it was no longer a big deal.

I also know someone who works for Brinks.
She’s a parishioner of ours.
When she took the position at Brinks, there were new things to learn
and handling tens of thousands of dollars took some getting used to,.
But, for her, it was a minor adjustment compared to carrying a gun.

So, what does this have to do with Holy Thursday
or the night of the Last Supper?

Well, it has to do with power.
The power of money.
The power of guns.
And…the power of love.

Now, we all try to keep ourselves on the side of love,
but just getting through an ordinary day
—buying the things we need,
putting food on the table
and gas in the car—requires the use of money.

Likewise, just “getting through an ordinary day”
--driving to work, or filing our taxes
or listening to the news—confirms the need
for order in our society,
the laws that ensure it
and the people to enforce it.

The exchange money and the exercise of authority
are regular components of everyday life.

Yet, these realities are like fire.
If they exceed their proper limits,
the force of their power makes us shudder.

Such is the reaction we have
when we hear about the thirty pieces of silver
and imagine the coins falling into the hands of Judas.

Yes, money buys food for our children.
But it also played a role in the betrayal of the Savior.

This insight comes as no surprise
to Gary, the man who works on the riverboat casino.
He spends much of his life
in a place where the centrifugal pull of money
works its magic;
a place where some people go for enjoyment
but where others go to numb their pain in a world of illusion;
a world where common sense slips away
and suddenly they find themselves
in a non-stop spending machine where they don’t feel a thing.

So, beware the centrifugal pull of the power of money.

* * *

Now, what about the other issue at hand?
The issue of law and order?
Should a similar caution about the power of authority
also be issued?

Just as my friend at the casino works in close proximity
to the power of money,
our other friend, the security guard, works in close proximity
to the power of social authority.
In fact, she herself carries significant authority in the holster strapped to her belt.

Like all of us, their lives involve the handling of money’
and the exercise of authority.
But I'm drawing specific attention to the work they do
because the on-the-job experience of these ordinary individuals
will help us into enter the night of Jesus’ last supper more deeply.
Their jobs will lead us to see
how the use of power in human society
impacted the life of Jesus
and how it impacts the lives of ordinary people like you and me today.

In order to see this,
place yourself, for a minute, in the Garden of Gethsemane
on the night of Jesus’ arrest.
Position yourself not in the place of Peter or James or John;
rather, enter the scene in the person of one of the guards.
One of the security personnel hired to show up at the scene
armed with whatever might be necessary
to subdue a criminal.

Yet, tonight, the man being arrested is a rabbi, a teacher,
a man who offers no resistance and carries no weapons at all.

Now imagine yourself as that guard a week or two later
having heard about the crucifixion of the man from Nazareth
and realizing that you were an unwitting pawn
in a political and religious power play
that cost an innocent man his life.

Now, clearly, the power of money and the power of authority
are a necessary part of human society.
They are necessary.
We acknowledge the usefulness of money.
We respect the power of authority.

But isn’t there another power
that gets short shrift?

But what about the power of love?

Might it also exert a centrifugal force in our lives and in our society?
If so, where do we find it?
How does it show up?

Think on this:
If we read the story of the Passion of Christ
shudder at the sound of thirty pieces of silver
falling into the outstretched hands of Judas,
then what does the sound of water being pour across dusty feet
and falling into a basin do to us?

It is not the sound of money,
it is not the sound of power.
Rather, it is the sound of love.

It is the sound of a mother bathing a child,
it is the sound of a nurse’s aid
bathing the tender skin of an elderly patient,
it is the sound of hotel maid
scrubbing a bathroom floor,
it is the sound of laundry being cleaned
and a son helping his father wash a car
in the driveway on a summer day.

It is the sound of love.
And tonight’s feast is asking us
to acknowledge the power of love.

Do not be afraid of the centrifugal force
of the power of love in life of your household
and in the life of this city.

Do not underestimate the power of love
for the good of our society.

The Passion of Christ includes more sounds
than the clinking of coins falling into the hand of Judas;
it also includes the sound of water
poured across feet
and falling into a basin.

* * *

Now, let’s move on to another sound recorded in the Passion story.
Let’s recall the metallic sound of javelins and spears
as the security guards made their way up the Mount of Olives
to arrest Jesus, the Savior of the world and the redeemer of our souls.

The clanking weapons
and the shuffle of feet up a stone path
on the Mount of Olives
represent the sound of authority.

How does that sound compare
to the rustle of a towel wiping the arch of a foot?
How does the power of the Temple authorities
and the Empire of Rome itself compare
to the posture of your Lord and Savior kneeling before you…
like a maid washing the floor at a Holiday Inn?
like a paramedic washing dirt out of wound?


Can you hear the subtle scratch of the garment
stretched across his shoulders…
shoulders hunched over a basin
as he pours the water over tired feet?

Our feet…feet that so often stumble
as we complain and drag these feet of ours on the way to Jerusalem.

Do you hear the rustle of the towel?
Do you recognize the sound?

The sound of that cloth is the sound of humility.

Do not underestimate its power.

Do not resist power of humility.
Do not resist the power of love.

It is the power of the Eucharist.
It is the power of Christ.
It is the power of God at work.