April 17, 2025: Maundy Thursday: A Feast of Stole and Towel

Maundy Thursday is not just about what Jesus did. It’s about who He is — a Priest with a Stole and a Servant with a Towel.

As twilight falls on Holy Thursday, the Church remembers a night unlike any other — a quiet Upper Room, a shared meal, a basin of water, and the hands of God washing human feet.

It is on this sacred evening that Jesus gives us the priesthood and the Eucharist. But He also gives us a model of humble service. The symbols of this night — the stole and the towel — tell a story of love that bends low and lifts high.

Let’s reflect on this feast of stole and towel, and discover what it truly means to walk in the footsteps of Christ.

 

The Stole: Sign of Priesthood and Sacrifice

In Luke 22:19, Jesus takes bread, gives thanks, breaks it, and says: “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” (Luke 22:19)

With these words, He institutes the Eucharist and gives birth to the ministerial priesthood. The stole — that long, narrow strip of cloth worn by priests — symbolizes the yoke of Christ. It is a sign that the priest is set apart, not for privilege, but for sacrificial service. On this night, Christ, the Eternal High Priest, offers not a lamb, but Himself.

St. John Vianney once said: “The priesthood is the love of the heart of Jesus.” The priest stands in persona Christi — in the person of Christ — especially at the altar. Every time a priest says, “This is My Body,” it is Christ offering Himself again, drawing us into His eternal sacrifice. The stole, then, is not a badge of status — it is a garment of self-offering.

St. John Vianney, the patron saint of parish priests, wore his stole like a mantle of mercy. He spent up to 18 hours a day in the confessional, wrapped in his old, worn-out stole, listening to the broken, the ashamed, and the lost. He was poor, often mocked, and physically frail — but spiritually strong. Once, a fellow priest asked him, “How do you keep going when you’re so exhausted?” He simply pointed to the crucifix and said, “He did not rest when He saved me. How can I rest while serving Him?” The stole on his shoulders was not for show. It was his yoke of love, a sign that his life no longer belonged to himself, but to the souls God had entrusted to him.

In 2020, a humble parish priest in northern Italy, Fr. Giuseppe Berardelli, 72, contracted COVID-19. His parishioners had raised money to buy him a ventilator, but he gave it up for a younger patient — someone he didn’t even know. He died a few days later. He died as he lived — wearing the stole of compassion and sacrifice, placing others before himself, like Christ the High Priest. The people he served for decades remembered him as a man who “smiled with his whole face” and lived his priesthood joyfully.

The Towel: Sign of Service and Humility

John’s Gospel tells us what happened after supper. Jesus rises from the table, removes His outer garment, takes a towel, ties it around His waist, and begins to wash His disciples’ feet.

“If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet.” (John 13:14)

This is shocking. The hands that healed lepers and raised the dead now gently cradle dusty feet. The Lord of the universe performs a task reserved for the lowliest of servants. Why? Because in God’s kingdom, greatness begins at the feet of others. Pope Francis said: “Jesus teaches us to be servants. And if we are servants, we are not here to dominate but to serve.” The towel, wrapped around His waist, is not a small detail. It is a symbol of the servant heart of God.

When Mother Teresa received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979, people expected a grand speech. Instead, she spoke simply of love and humility — then returned to the slums of Calcutta. There, she wrapped a towel around her waist and served the sick and dying. One witness saw her washing the wounds of a leper and said: “I wouldn’t do what you’re doing for a million dollars.” She smiled and replied: “Neither would I. I do it for Jesus.” She didn’t need gold or titles. She had a towel. And in that towel, she carried the dignity of the Gospel.

The Balance: Priesthood and Servanthood

The stole and towel are not opposites. They are complementary. One without the other is incomplete.

• A priest with only a stole, but no towel, may become proud or distant.
• A disciple with only a towel, but no stole (no connection to sacrament and worship), may forget the sacred source of their strength.

Jesus models both — sacrifice and service, worship and washing, offering and outreach.

Think of Mother Teresa. Though not a priest, she wore a sari like a towel and lived the Gospel with her hands. Yet, the Eucharist was her lifeline. She said: “We must first be filled with God to be able to give Him to others.”

 

A Story to Stir the Heart

There’s a story of a young seminarian who served Mass for an elderly priest in a poor village. After Mass, he watched the old priest remove his stole and immediately go out into the streets — bandaging wounds, washing feet, and sitting with the dying. The seminarian asked, “Father, how do you switch so easily between the altar and the street?” The priest smiled and said, “Son, the stole teaches me who I belong to. The towel reminds me what I must do.”

 

Your Invitation This Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday is not just for priests. It is for every Christian who has been baptized into the priesthood of Christ. You too carry the stole — a call to holiness. And you carry the towel — a call to service.

So ask yourself:

• Who needs my time, my mercy, my tenderness?
• Where can I wash feet today — figuratively or literally?
• How can I live Eucharistically — being broken and given for others?

 Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, on this holy night, You gave us the gift of Your Body and Blood. You bent down to wash our feet. Teach us to worship with reverence, to serve with humility, and to love without condition. May we carry both the stole of Your presence and the towel of Your mercy, every day of our lives. Amen.