John 13:1-17
“Having loved his own who were in the
world, he loved them to the end.”
The one who
comes from God and is going to God takes on the menial task of a slave…washing
the feet of the master’s guests…just what are we to make of that? In his final
few hours of freedom, Jesus is not thinking of the scourge ahead of him; not of
the torture of being nailed to a Roman cross and hanging there for three hours
until he suffocates; nor is he distressed about the moment of surrender when he
will let it go; let it all go, “commending his Spirit” into God’s hands. Jesus,
who came from God and was going to God, was thinking of his disciples that
night; he loved them to the end—the end of his ministry, the end of his life,
the end of his time.
Picture the scene.
These men are sharing the traditional Passover meal in the usual way. There are
thirteen of them reclining around each side of the table, stretched out
length-wise on pillows, eating with their hands, and conversing with their
neighbors. Still, this night is different from all others. The disciples feel
apprehensive; the smell of bitter herbs in the air is unusually pungent this
night. The wine seems sour on the tongue. Nobody is able to find a comfortable
position; they are restless. They hear…fear.
But not
Jesus. He is quiet, focused, patient. Without a word, he gets up from the table
and removes his robe. He takes a long towel, soft and clean as a cloud, and
slowly he ties the white cloth around his waist. One by one, the disciples
sense that something is happening; they stop talking to each other; they start
looking around; they sense tension in the room. The only sound is the quick
trickle of water tumbling into an empty bowl.
What is Jesus doing?
Eyes were wide
on the Lord as he lifted the water basin and carried it to the feet of his
friends. The men stretched and contorted themselves into uncomfortable
positions just to get a good look at Jesus their teacher, their Lord: Jesus was
dressed as a slave; he was doing the work of a slave, and he was using tools of
a slave with his bare hands.
In those
days, none but the lowest servant in the household could be forced to wash
another man’s feet. I imagine that Peter’s brain was just exploding with
objections as Jesus, servant of all, came near to him.
“Lord, are
you going to wash my feet?” Peter can barely breathe—he’s not offended, he’s …
he’s … humiliated. He’s mortified—for himself or for his teacher, or maybe
both. Peter cannot allow such a thing! Jesus is his teacher, his friend, his
rabbi, his Lord. Peter could not stand the thought of someone so admired, so
important, so revered, so God, getting anywhere near the dirtiest part of him,
let alone touching him, touching his “dirt.”
“You will never wash my feet.”
Peter refuses the Lord.
It is
Peter’s knee-jerk reaction that I want to explore with you today. I want to
open it up because I think any of us might have that same revulsion to the very
idea of Jesus becoming our servant, removing our dirt, washing our feet clean.
Yet, cleansing us is exactly what Jesus came to do. He never forgot why he was
here, even when death was only half a day away.
CH Spurgeon
said, “Our Lord washed the feet of his disciples to show that to the last
moment of his communion with them He was full of the deepest and truest love [to]
them and was willing to perform the most menial action for their good.”[1]
What is this
good? Look at the text again, in verses 14-17: So if I, your Lord and Teacher,
have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have
set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly,
I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers
greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed
if you do them.”
Answer me
this: why don’t we like people to see our feet? [corns, calluses, planter’s
warts, bunions, hammer toes, cracked feet, swollen feet, ugly feet, flat feet;
ingrown toenails, nail fungi, I had a hemorrhage under my toenail this winter
that was quite unattractive]. Our feet can cause us embarrassment or shame. We
often keep them covered, decorated, we are a “pedicured” people.
Can you
imagine, right now, slipping off your shoes and socks and allowing Jesus to wash
your feet, right here in the company of so many disciples? We probably would
refuse, like Peter did, but the cost would be too dear, for Jesus answers us as
he answered Peter, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Jesus washed
the disciples’ feet to show all believers the truth about what it takes to love
one another. We must be willing to go to the darkest, smelliest, deepest,
hidden places with people, treat them with dignity, and lead them to the
scandalous unending unconditional love of God in Jesus Christ.
If we do not
allow Jesus to wash our feet, then it is as he said, we have no share in him.
If we are too proud to have Jesus wash our feet, then we are too proud. If we
refuse to allow Jesus to wash our feet, then we refuse to live as he has taught
us to live. And if we do not live as he taught us to live, then we do not know
how to love others as he has loved us. If Jesus had not done this for us, then we
are no more than a bunch of noisy gongs and clanging cymbals—instruments found
in many a religious institution today.
My friends,
God has created each one of us for great things, but those great things are all
rooted in humility. “Humility in the life of the believer is the mark of
greatness—not because you shine when you are humbled, but because when you
submit to God’s will, God shines through you.”[2]
God’s love
can shine through us when we are willing to do whatever it takes to have a share
in Jesus Christ. “If there is any deed of kindness or love that we can do for
the very meanest and most obscure of God’s people, we ought to be willing to do
it—to be servants to God’s servants.”[3]
This is what Jesus has done for us.
May the way
of humility be the foundation of our new beginning in this church. Let us be
his servants in service to the whole human family, even if it is just one
person at a time, because serving others is putting Christ’s love in motion. That’s
how we let the world know what Jesus Christ has done for us. If you know, say “Amen.”
Amen.
March 16,
2014
First parish
Federated Church of South Berwick, ME
The Reverend
Donna Lee Muise, Pastor
