"Then he poured the water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which he was girded." (Jn 13:5)
He took a towel and He washed their dusty feet! Not an unusual thing at all! In those days foot-washing was a rather ordinary act of hospitality. It was an action that carried with it the affirming message of a warm and friendly welcome to one's house guests. But it was an act that was meant to be performed, not by the master of the house, but more often by the servant of the house. It was an act of hospitality yes, but it was to be done by the servant who waited by the door with that designated assignment. It was an act to be performed by one who was accustomed to being on bended knees; by one who would be expected to do such a lowly and humbling thing. In other words, it was to be done by one who knew his menial station in life, and could assume it without thought, protest or trouble. If we had to draw a contemporary parallel, perhaps shoeshine boys, that's what the foot-washers were - shoeshine boys in a land where feet, not shoes, had to be made to sparkle.
He took a towel and He washed their dusty feet! While those disciples' feet were being soothed and refreshed by Jesus from a day's weary and over-heated journey, what turmoil must have been going on in the minds and the souls of those proud disciples. Can you imagine? Can you imagine it for just a moment - seeing their master, their teacher, their hoped-for-messiah kneeling before them, and taking their feet, each in turn, into his hands and serving them as a slave!
I remember a foot-washing service that we did on Maundy Thursday about 20 years ago when I was an associate pastor Bethany in Denver. The plan was that the senior pastor and I would wash the feet of several members of the church council. It was my job to hold the basin and the senior pastor would do the foot-washing. I remember how incredibly nervous and self-conscious those council members were to have their pastors wash their feet. It came time for the ritual and of course, their feet were already sparkling clean to start with. The council president had on a brand new pair of shoes and brand new socks. Pastor Keith took off the shoes of the council president and then his socks. As I lowered the basin beneath his feet a huge glob of sock lint fell into the basin of water. Only those of us up front saw it. (Now you had to be there) Trying to relax the participants and take the edge off the embarrassment of the sock lint, Pastor Keith whispered, just loud enough for only the few of us up front to hear, "Oh Don that's tacky!" I cannot find the words to adequately describe what happened next. I'm actually not sure what happened next. All I can say is the harder you try not to laugh the worse it is. What had started as a solemn, reverent, serious ritual momentarily disintegrated as we tried with all our might to stuff our laughter. But our laughter only covered up how uncomfortable and embarrassed we all were at doing this.
"Some one else should be doing this!" those disciples must have silently protested! Peter, and it shouldn't surprise us, couldn't stay silent! He protested openly!
But what could they have been thinking? Maybe something like, "Isn't Judas in charge of the money matters; in charge of things like hiring and paying for necessary servants and things? Somebody must have slipped up somewhere! This isn't right! This isn't the way it's supposed to be! Maybe one of us should volunteer and do this humbling deed in his place! But not me of course; you understand! It would compromise my position in the group. I have my dignity and pride to maintain! But surely one of the younger ones or perhaps one of the women. . . someone step up and volunteer!"
And Jesus still takes a towel and He washes OUR dusty feet!
YES, he washes our feet as surely as he did those first disciples'. He unbinds all expressions of the cramping laces that rein us in and keep from really reaching one another. He removes the leather of protection and display that keep us looking good to the world no matter how we feel on the inside. He removes all expressions of soft socks worn for warmth and decency, and then, he washes our weary, naked feet to make them cool, fresh, clean and relieved.
Can we accept it? Can we accept this amazing gesture from our Lord? That's the question for this Maundy Thursday. "Maundy" from the Latin "mandate" - this night when he "mandated" his disciples to do likewise! Maundy foot-washing Thursday! Can we accept it? Can we accept this gesture of affirming servitude directed towards us personally - toward you?
As we gaze down and see him there at our very feet, bent low - can we believe, can we even recognize that such a simple, humble, gentle act literally uncovers and reveals the very heart of God?
As we gaze down and see him at our feet, and feel his touch and feel the cool water splash against our toes, do we see God down there? Do we see a God who knows all about the tensions, petty vanities and hostilities that conflict us? Do we see a God who knows all about the self-erected walls of pride and fear that divide us? Do we see a God who realizes we can only be united and brought together by an act of great self-offering and self-denial, an act of which, left to our own devices, we are not capable, so he performs the necessary humbling deed himself.
Then, he says - "This is my example!" "As I have done it to you, so you must do to it each other."
But how hard is that? Our egos are so fragile! Our pride is so brittle! Human pride and ego is the most fragile thing on the planet. We have been reminded of just how fragile national pride and ego is as we've watched China and the United States try to find a delicate solution to the reconnaissance plane incident - a solution that would leave both nations pride in tack.
How is it for us? Are we a congregation that is willing to serve one another in this household of faith in a such a humble manner?
"As I have done it to you, so you must do to each other:"
- to wash the weary, dusty, bruised and bloodied feet of our sisters and brothers, of the homeless and the hungry, of family and friends, of our neighbors, and our rivals - even the feet of those whose hands you would not wish to shake.
Wherever do we find the strength? Wherever do we find the power? Wherever do we find the courage? Wherever do we find the desire to do such a thing; to perform such a humbling act?
The strength, the power, the courage and the desire only come when we realize and we accept that it was this same humble Lord who went on from there, and in the next three days he washed more than our feet: he washed our hearts; he washed our minds; he washed our souls of the indelible stain - the one stain we thought nothing could remove - the stain of sin.
He took a towel and he washed. . .
He took a flogging! He took a mocking! He took a beating! He took spit in his face! He took a kangaroo court! He took a crown of thorns! He took spikes driven through flesh and bone! He took death into his own sweet flesh! He took it all. . . and he washed us clean - Heart! Mind! Soul! And God raised him up on the third day! And now he still lives!
The strength, the power, the courage and the desire come from him as we invite him to occupy the central place live in our hearts. . . invite him to direct our minds. . . invite him to fill our souls - as we allow him to continue to live out his life of humility and service - through us!
That's a great deal of what it means to be a Christian; a great deal of what it to be the Church - the body of Christ!
So, let us learn to encounter each other and our neighbors with a humbling touch that soothes, that cleanses, that affirms, that refreshes, that brings his life into our reality. It begins on this night with Jesus who TOOK A TOWEL AND HE WASHED THEIR DUSTY FEET!