Washing feet

When I was a child, I used to hear people much older than me talk about how quickly time was passing by. They even seemed to suggest that the older they got, the quicker time went by. I didn’t think they knew what they were talking about. As a child, time moved slowly, it took forever for summer vacation to get here, for my birthday to come, for Christmas to arrive. But now, I get it. I truly understand what they were saying because I can’t believe we are here again at Maundy Thursday. I could have sworn it was just Christmas Eve. But no, here we are again. Gathered here to remember the last meal Jesus ate with his disciples on the night before he was killed, and to remember that weird thing he did when he got up from the table in the middle of dinner and washed their feet. And I’m standing in front of you tonight, like Deacons throughout our whole church, to talk to you about Jesus’ act of humble service and his commandment to his disciples that they love one another. Because this is what we do at this time of year.

Some years when we come to the major events in the life of our church, in our life of faith, we can feel a little underwhelmed, a little disconnected. With so much else going on in our lives, we might come to a night like this and not take very much in. We might find ourselves just going through the motions. Some years are like that. And I think that’s okay, some years are just like that. But, I don’t feel that way this year. Despite my shock at finding us back here again so quickly, I am so appreciative of all the ways we are celebrating Holy Week. Because I’m finding that I really need the rhythm of church life this year, I need all of the reminders that God is with us, I need to hold on to all of the things that don’t change when so much of this world feels out of control. St. Teresa of Avila said it best when she said, “All things are passing away. God never changes.”

God never changes. God’s love for us never changes. God’s presence in our life never changes. God’s hopes and dreams for us, God’s expectations of us, never change. Jesus’ disciples might have needed to hear that message from him on the night before he died, as much as we need to hear it now. When I think about Jesus in this passage from John, I think of him knowing that he is going to be killed the very next day and deciding to spend that night sharing a meal with his disciples, because “having loved his own while he was in the world, he loved them to the end.” The world might have been breaking apart, but Jesus was with those he loved. But this is Jesus, so it wasn’t enough for him to share a meal with them, he also needed to do the two things he came to do: to teach them and to serve them. Even on the night before he was to be put to death. He got up from the table and did this astonishing thing. They didn’t understand it. They couldn’t figure out what was happening. They were maybe even a little scandalized by it, or a lot scandalized by it. Peter, as always, is the best example of this, so let’s try to put ourselves in his shoes.

Imagine the person you look up to most in the world, the person who always tells you not to be afraid, imagine hearing them talk about threats to their life, imagine seeing unrest all around you, and you don’t know exactly what it is happening, but you’ve got this pit in your stomach because you know something bad is coming, and you’re looking to this person to tell you what is happening and show you the way out of it. And instead, they kneel in front of you and wash your feet. How does that help anything? What is that supposed to mean? Jesus tells us it’s love. Jesus tells us that this is what his love looks like, this is what his love does. I can imagine that if I were in Peter’s place, I would be very moved by that. To think that in the midst of all that is going on, this person who I call Lord stops and performs this humble act to care for me. I think that once I got over feeling embarrassed, I would feel very loved. But I think I would also feel very frustrated, because, Jesus, bad things are happening out there, and I still don’t know what you are going to do about it.

And that’s the point, isn’t it? He’s going to do the same thing he’s always done. He’s going to love us. To the end. God never changes.

And because God never changes, God’s call to us never changes. Jesus says, “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.” Knowing what is going to happen next, Jesus is making sure that his disciples know that because he loves them, they’re responsible for one another. This isn’t about love as a sentiment, this is about love as a calling, love as a duty to one another. He’s about to die. They will have to rely on one another, to love one another so much that they will wash each other’s feet. On the night before his death, this is what Jesus gives to them, and to us: this powerful act of humility and this call to love one another. This is why we wash each other’s feet tonight. Because what was true for the disciples then is just as true for us now: we are responsible for one another. We remind ourselves of this, and we re-dedicate ourselves to this, every year when we have this opportunity to do as Jesus commanded his disciples to do. If Jesus can serve his disciples so humbly, then like them, we can do the same for one another. And if we can do that in here, then we can do what the disciples did, and take it out there. When we do that, we live out Jesus’ commandment to love one another. And when the world around us is falling apart, this is the thing we can hold onto.

So, whether you came tonight out of habit and you’re not really into it, or whether you’ve never been to this service before and you just came to try it out, or whether you’re like me, and you’re looking to hold on to something that is true, I invite you all to come forward to wash one another’s feet. I promise, it isn’t as awkward as it seems. Please, join us in this somewhat weird and always powerful act of service; because, tomorrow Jesus will be put to death, but tonight, we remember that we are responsible for one another. Amen.