Tender Care

Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion

I kneel before my son, carefully washing his feet. “It’s time for my pedicure,” he jokes. Despite weeks of soaking in epsom salts and treating with antibiotic ointments, his ingrown toenail became infected. The seemingly minor inconvenience caused significant pain and upset his daily activities. And the toenail was just one more burden, during an already difficult time for him health-wise. After an in-office procedure to remove the damaged toenail, we finally began to see some improvement. 

As I performed these daily pedicures, I reflected on the image of the woman who washes Jesus’ feet and anoints them with oil. Some version of this story appears in all four Gospels, and in John’s Gospel it specifically leads into the Passion narrative. When questioned about the wasting of expensive oil, Jesus replies, “Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial.You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.” Jesus knows that his time on earth is coming to an end, that soon His friends and disciples will need to carry on without His physical presence. He allows himself, and the woman before him, a final moment of peace. The tenderness the woman shows in caring for Jesus’ feet is a stark contrast to the brutality that his body would endure in the coming days. Her washing and anointing is a concrete expression of love. My washing of my sons’ stinky teen boy feet is one small way I can communicate “I’m with you no matter what.” 

Through the Palm Sunday liturgy, we participate in denying Jesus, failing to defend him, and calling for His crucifixion. Voicing our betrayal aloud is unsettling. We participate in the call to “Crucify him! Crucify him!”, but we also participate in His tender care.  Who will wash the everyday wounds before His body absorbs the wounds of humanity? 

Photo by Arun Prakash on Unsplash