Holy Thursday: He Takes Away the Gun

Do any of you have friends or family in Columbus, Ohio?

Do any of them attend St. Dominic Church?

If so, you might want to ask them
what they thought
about a very unusual thing they got to experience at a Sunday Mass
back in February.

But first, let me give you some background.

Last fall the pastor of St. Dominic, Fr. Jim Colopy,
was car-jacked in the rectory driveway
as he returned from a wedding rehearsal dinner.
A 17-year-old kid named Perry Ellis
put a BB gun to the priest’s head
and demanded the car keys.

Unfortunately for them
the car had a standard transmission
and they couldn’t drive a stick.
As they struggled to get it in gear,
the priest called the cops
and three teenagers were arrested minutes later.

(When I read this, I thought to myself:
“Another good reason to drive a truck.”)

Anyway, the priest was furious.
And, along with him, the entire parish.
It scared and angered the whole neighborhood.

But it also did something else.

It sparked conversations about forgiveness.

When the teenagers appeared in court,
somber and remorseful,
Fr. Colopy’s anger dissipated.
He urged the judge to make the boys do work for the church
and issue an apology in front of the congregation.

And that’s what the people of St. Dominic Parish in Columbus, Ohio
got to experience at Sunday Mass a few weeks ago.

“I apologize for putting fear in your hearts
and for disrespecting the church community,”
the offender said.

Then he thanked the priest for his lenient recommendation
to the juvenile court and the two shook hands.

The sentence the judge gave them actually went beyond what the pastor recommended.
Yes, they performed 80 hours of community work for St. Dominic’s:
shoveling walks, cleaning the school and working at a soup kitchen on the south side.

The judge paired them with parish members as mentors to guide them.
She also required them to talk to parishioners one-on-one.

Tonight, we celebrate the Last Supper of our Lord and Savior.

In a few moments, we’ll re-enact the unusual thing that occurred
in the course of that supper
when the disciples removed their sandals and allowed Jesus to wash their feet.

You see, the heart of the Mass is the heart of God’s forgiveness.
Recall the sacred words:
“This is the cup of my blood;
it will be shed for you and for all
so that sins may be forgiven.”

The people of St. Dominic’s know the meaning of words.
They could have had those kids locked up.
Instead, they invited them into their life,
asked them to walk in their shoes.

In doing so, those kids learned the meaning of forgiveness.

Tonight, like the apostles, we take off our shoes.
Not for Lord to walk in our sandals
but to wash our feet.

Each one of us, in some way or another,
resemble those kids.

We’ve made mistakes.

Our words have robbed others of their respect.

Our greed has taken what rightly belongs to others.

Our actions have aroused fear.

Yet, for the likes of us, the Lord poured his life;
for the likes of us, he poured out his blood:

“So that sins may be forgiven.”

Unusual as it might seem,
this is what happens, not only at St. Dominic’s,
at and every Mass:

He takes away the gun,
stoops to wash our feet…
and wipes the record clean.