“If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”
John 13: 14-15
Holy Thursday is one of my favorite faith traditions in the lead up to Easter Sunday. There’s so much symbolism as Fr. Damien and Fr. Greg washed the feet of several of our parishioners at tonight’s service at St. Catharine – St. Margaret Parish, emulating what Jesus did for His disciples at the Last Supper.
Whenever I come to this great day that celebrates our faith, I remember my days as an altar boy and the many times my Mom, my late brother Dennis, and I would attend the Holy Thursday service at Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church, Ridgewood, N.J. — our parish community growing up.
Those memories never leave me, and their symbolism continues to deepen with each passing year.
There’s the water used to wash the feet — is there anything here on earth more symbolic of cleansing, healing, and renewal than water?
Then there’s the priests who kneel before us, just as Jesus did for His own disciples, inviting us to ask ourselves: who are the people in our own lives we can serve and kneel for?
Can we let the Lord touch those places inside of us that we might be hiding from — and ask Him where we need to be washed, healed, forgiven, and restored?
But one Holy Thursday stays with me above all others.
As I walked back to my house tonight, I found myself returning to a special Holy Thursday back in April 2002 at St. Paul Parish in Princeton, NJ I can still see Monsignor Nolan — one of the kindest priests I ever met — washing the feet of his parishioners that evening. He was a revered homilist who had come to the priesthood through unimaginable tragedy: the loss of his wife and daughter during childbirth.
That grief could have broken him. Instead, it became the very wellspring of his compassion — the source of the tenderness with which he knelt before others and, quite literally, washed their feet year after year.
After the service, Monsignor Nolan came outside as he always did to mingle with his parishioners, accompanied by his Irish Setter, who immediately bonded with my son Patrick — making it very hard for us to leave for the ride back home.
Monsignor Nolan is retired now, but I often think of him and how, in the depths of his grief, he chose to touch the lives of so many with kindness and compassion — one act of humble service at a time.
As I get older, so many of these precious memories rise to the surface, connecting parts of my life in ways I never saw before. It might be a person, a place, or a moment — but in all of them, there is a timely reminder of just how blessed we are to have one another.
Yes, God is good.
Wishing family and friends a very Happy Easter 
