Today is already the Fifth Sunday of Easter. However, the Church invites us to reflect on what happened on the night of the Thursday before Easter Sunday. After Jesus had washed the feet of his apostles, Judas Iscariot ate his piece of the bread, and as Scripture says, “As soon as Judas took the bread, Satan entered into him,” and he left them. At that point, the stage became clear. Judas had gone out, and the cross was already a certainty. Jesus realized he only had a few hours before embracing the cross, so he must dictate his last will.
At this point, the night was heavy with silence. The supper dishes had been cleared. The oil lamps were growing dim. Outside the upper room, the streets of Jerusalem were hushed and tensed with the weight of what no one fully understood. Inside the upper room, the disciples sat still, their hearts racing as they struggled to understand why Judas left so early. The door was already closed behind Judas, but the air in the room felt thick with betrayal. At that moment, Jesus dictated his last will to his closest friends; he said, “I give you a new commandment: Love one another just as I have loved you.” These are the words of a dying Man; they must be treated as sacred.
Jesus called his last will a new commandment. But what is new about this commandment when it is already written in the Old Testament (Leviticus 19:18), “Love your neighbor as yourself”? The command of love is not new. The new thing here is in the second part, “just as I have loved you.” The new thing is in the yardstick, the measuring stick, or the litmus test for love. The Old Testament asked us to use ourselves as the measure of love. However, since we do not love ourselves as we should, Jesus had to upgrade the standard. We love people who are successful, pleasant, rich, beautiful, handsome, and intelligent or deserve it. As such, if we do not deserve it, we don’t even love ourselves. See what happens when we make mistakes, look silly, or do something shameful: we often begin to hate ourselves.
Therefore, Jesus has asked us to love like him. This love is the kind that washes feet, even the one who will betray us. This love is the kind that forgives sins even before they are confessed. This love is the kind of love that carries and mounts the cross for friends and enemies. Jesus loved to the extent of praying for his executioners; “Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing.” He loves those who do not deserve it. This kind of love is built not on what we can get, but on what we can give. Love in spite of, not because of.
The new thing about this commandment is that Jesus has raised the bar. He clarified that being a Christian is not just about being nice or doing no harm but about giving your life away in love. This demand from Jesus Christ to us might sound impossible, but it is possible because Jesus did it first, and he gives us the grace to do the same. Remember, it was after he had washed the feet of his apostles, those who called him master, including the one who would later betray him, that he gave us the command to love one another as he loves us. He did not say those words when everything was peaceful. He said those words when his heart was breaking. He said those words while giving his disciples bread and wine that had become his Body and Blood. This point is where the command to love begins: at the table of sacrifice, in the breaking of bread, in the gift of self. And the very altar right in front of us at Mass is that same table. Every time we gather at Mass, Christ offers us not only his presence, but his pattern, his example: “As I have loved you…” Receive it. Remember it. Repeat it.
At the dismissal rite of the Mass, the priest or deacon says the following or any of the other options: “Go in peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.” That is not just a polite ending, it is a mission. Jesus gives us his love in Word and Sacrament, so he sends us to share that love outside the Church. He fed us at Mass so that we might feed the hungry outside the Church. He broke himself for us at Mass so that we might patiently and tenderly break ourselves for others in our homes, workplaces, schools, and neighborhoods.
Make no mistakes about it; this commandment is not easy to obey. Jesus gave this commandment on the night he was betrayed. He knew the pain ahead. He knew his friends’ failures. Yet, he loved them to the end. Now, he wants us to love like that, not with our own strength but with the strength that comes from him.
My dearly beloved in Christ, as we leave the Holy Mass today, let us go with hearts set on fire, not just to talk about love, but to live it. Let us be the first to forgive, the ones who serve without seeking praise, and the ones who love even when it is hard. Remember, the world is watching. And Jesus has told us plainly: “By this, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” May everyone we meet this week recognize Christ, not only by what we say, but especially by how we love, through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Homily for 5th Sunday of Easter Year C 2025
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