My only brother, John, died a couple of years ago. Our lives took very different paths, yet since his death I have been so aware of his influence. He taught me how to tie my shoes before I started kindergarten, and I think of him every morning as I double-knot my shoestrings to begin the day. As I look back, I realize he was teaching me to live a courageous life, preparing me to step into shoes with trust, without knowing where they would take me on any given day. I missed this in kindergarten. Now, I believe courage may very well begin with the simple act of tying our shoes as we journey with Christ Jesus.

On the Fourth Sunday of Lent, we proclaim the familiar story of two brothers in Chapter 15 of Luke’s Gospel. The younger son packs up his inheritance, puts on his sandals and leaves his family. He thinks his journey will set him free, but it leads him on paths he will regret, needing to beg for food and a place to rest. He returns humbly to his father’s loving embrace and finds in his father’s arms unexpected forgiveness. The older son, standing in his worn shoes, feels his own regrets.

In Lent, we sort through the paths we have trod. Our paths as priests may not have been virtuous, or even kind. When we walk toward false power, self-sufficiency and apathy, our paths lead to spiritual wastelands. We are confronted with shame, guilt and discouragement. It is on these wayward paths we know we need help. Jesus meets us on the road to Calvary, the path ultimately leading to glory.

Lent reveals a new journey of courage. Not only do we walk the Way of the Cross of Christ, but we journey among people who need us to be faithful and loving. We lace up our shoes on Ash Wednesday and walk into the unknown with people who need sacramental absolution, advice, a kind ear or a shoulder upon which to cry. Lent reveals people’s pain, and we are called to walk directly into it, to be present among the sorrowful, to befriend the unsheltered, to give hope to people estranged and marginalized by life. Our shoes must be on our feet, our laces tied, our faith ready to walk amid suffering with trust and profound courage.

Finding Courage in the Love of God

Our ministry challenges us to journey among people who ache for healing and reconciliation. We do not judge the people Jesus brings to us, knowing how we ourselves have strayed. Some people have walked paths of addiction, of mental anguish and depression. Some have survived wars or the death of a child. Many people search for a place to belong in the Church. When we know how God frees us, when we know the Father’s embrace, then we invite others into such compassion.

On Holy Thursday evening, we will wash the feet of sojourners. Their shoes will be unfastened and put aside, and we will hold their naked feet and view the beauty of their faces. Their eyes will tear up as we fulfill the sacred ritual. We will wash away the sin, violence and uncertainty of their journey. We will help ease the pain of people who have lost a spouse in death or a child because of misunderstandings. We will wash away their lack of hope and dry their feet with a towel that reminds us of the white garment left in the corner of the empty tomb. Our parishioners will be reminded of the courage it takes to be vulnerable, not only with their feet, but with their hearts. They will surrender to God in the grace of this liturgical gesture. Reflected in the water in a shallow bowl we will see our own faces and find the depths of grace.

In Lent, we sort through our fears and hear God the Father call us to himself. In this season, I invite you to walk away from your negative outlooks, attitudes of jealousy and stories of clergy competition. We journey together as brothers with shoes laced up, with hope to bring to others, fearless in knowing we are loved and forgiven. Christ Jesus, our brother, shows us courage beyond our imagining. Such bravery is a pure gift. I pray we may walk toward such courage in love of God and one another.

FATHER RONALD PATRICK RAAB, CSC, serves as religious superior at Holy Cross House, a medical facility and retirement home for the Congregation of Holy Cross, Notre Dame, Indiana. Learn more at www.ronaldraab.com.