[LA EN] Holy Monday is part of the first steps of the Great Week, a time in which the Church, in profound recollection and liturgical mourning, accompanies Our Lord Jesus Christ in His imminent Passion. Historically, in the traditional Roman rite (Vetus Ordo), this day marks the beginning of the more declared hostilities against the Savior, reflecting the conspiracy of the Pharisees and the betrayal that looms on the horizon. The liturgy of this day does not celebrate a specific saint, but focuses entirely on the mystery of redemption, preparing the souls of the faithful for the tragic and glorious outcome of the Paschal Triduum. The traditional liturgical station in Rome takes place at the Basilica of Saint Praxedes, a church that houses the venerated relic of the column of the flagellation, a perfectly fitting link to the readings of the day which prophesy the scourging and insults suffered by the Suffering Servant, calling Christians to penance and compassion.
📖 Introit (Ps 34:1-2; ib., 3)
Júdica, Dómine, nocéntes me, expúgna impugnántes me: apprehénde arma et scutum, et exsúrge in adjutórium meum, Dómine, virtus salútis meæ. Ps. Effúnde frámeam, et conclúde advérsus eos, qui persequúntur me: dic ánimæ meæ: Salus tua ego sum. - Júdica, Dómine...
Judge, O Lord, those who do me harm; overcome those who fight against me! Take up arms and shield, and arise in my help, O Lord, my strength and my salvation. Ps. Draw the sword and block the way of those who pursue me. Say to my soul: I am your salvation. - Judge me, O Lord...
📖 Epistle (Is 50:5-10)
Lesson from the Prophet Isaiah. In those days, Isaiah spoke thus: The Lord God has opened my ears, and I do not resist; I have not turned back. I gave my body to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who plucked out my beard, and I did not turn my face away from those who covered me with insults and spittle. The Lord God is my helper; therefore I am not confounded; therefore I have made my face like a very hard stone, and I know that I shall not be put to shame. He who justifies me is near; who will contend with me? Let us stand together; who is my adversary? Let him come near to me. The Lord God is my help; who shall condemn me? Behold, all of them shall wear out like a garment; the moth shall consume them. Who among you fears the Lord and listens to the voice of His servant? Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the Name of the Lord and rely upon his God.
📖 Gospel (Jn 12:1-9)
Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus had died, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. They gave Him a supper there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at table with Him. Mary then took a pound of costly genuine nard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped them with her hair, and the whole house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment. Then one of His disciples, Judas Iscariot, the one who was to betray Him, said: Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor? He said this, not because he cared for the poor, but because he was a thief, and having the money box, he used to take what was put into it. But Jesus said: Let her alone, that she may keep it for the day of my burial. The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have Me. Many of the Jews learned that Jesus was there, and they came not only because of Him, but also to see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead.
🌿 The fragrance of charity and the obedience of the servant
The gesture of Mary in Bethany, in pouring a pound of pure nard over the feet of Our Lord, manifests the excess of human love that intimately participates in the redemptive mystery, in contrast to the coldness and petty calculation of Judas. According to Saint Thomas Aquinas, in his commentaries on Saint John, this precious perfume represents the compassion and mercy with which the faithful must enter into Holy Week, while the purity of the nard symbolizes a faith free from hypocrisy and the humility of one who recognizes his own smallness. The anointing of the feet points to the recognition of the sacred humanity of Christ, who will soon walk toward Calvary. Saint Gregory the Great, in his Homily on this passage, teaches that the generous heart, moved by ardent charity, prefigures the very sacrifice of the Cross, indicating that true love for God measures no effort and holds nothing back for itself, exhaling the sweet fragrance of grace throughout the whole house of the Church.
This same radical charity that anoints the feet of the Savior finds its perfect counterpart in the unconditional obedience of the Suffering Servant revealed in the prophecy of Isaiah. Saint Augustine shows that the obedience of the Servant, who does not turn back nor hide his face from insults and spittle, reveals the depth of trust in God, guiding the humble even in the darkness of doubt and persecution. By giving His own body to those who strike Him, Our Lord teaches, according to the sermons of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux on the Song of Songs, that true justice and authentic glory are not sought in earthly triumphs, but in submission to the will of the Father. The attitude of the Servant is a call that, in the face of suffering, the soul should not turn to revolt, but should make its face like a "very hard stone" in faith, sustained by the certainty that the Lord God is its defender.
The profound connection between the nard poured out in adoration and the wounds willingly accepted finds its perfect echo in the cry of the entrance liturgy. When the Church intones "Judge, O Lord, those who do me harm; overcome those who fight against me," she places on the lips of Christ the prayer of the persecuted innocent, not with a desire for worldly vengeance, but with the absolute trust of the One who entrusts His cause to the Father. The love of Mary, which anticipates the burial, is united with the patience of the Servant, who does not defend Himself from scourging, showing that the heavenly weapons—the divine sword and shield invoked in the Introit—operate through sacrifice and the Cross. In the face of the betrayal that looms and the advancing darkness, we are called to imitate the total self-giving of the Servant and the compassion of the woman of Bethany, hearing in the depths of the soul the promise that crowns the spiritual combat: "I am your salvation."