John 13:1-17; 31b-35

Were you to host a Maundy Thursday service at your church – and I recommend that you do! – there is no better way to ensure that it is sparsely attended than to announce that it will be a foot washing service. Few things make modern, Western believers more uncomfortable than presenting their foot to another person – especially a pastor.

And, yet, we would be negligent to fully dismiss Jesus’ command: “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” In fact, the act of foot washing fits into traditional definitions of sacrament: (1) instituted by Jesus, (2) using material to represent the spiritual, and (3) and outward sign of inward grace. By this very definition, washing of feet meets the criteria. Yet, it has never been considered a sacrament by Catholics or Protestants.

So, if we are generally uncomfortable with the invitation of Jesus within this text, as it seems much of Christendom is, what do we do with it? Shall we call washing of feet contextual to the ancient Jewish condition, and hear the heart of the story? Shall we admit that Christianity is filled with odd behavior (eat my body, drink my blood…) and return to the sacramental call of Jesus? Shall we blame the Gospel of John for being odd and decidedly not synoptic, and lump this in with metaphor throughout the text?

However you read this text, it seems worth another consideration of washing feet. Yeah, I hate it as much as you, But the text does stretch us to engage the cultural significance of what Jesus did – a practical hygiene issue (cleaning dirty feet before coming to a table to eat) and the role of leadership in the kingdom (becoming a servant first and foremost in the upside-down kingdom Christ inaugurates). But, there is an often-missed significance in this text. As much as we want to read this text and identify with and become like Jesus, we are more like Peter than we are Jesus.

Peter is defiant, self-confident, certain of his read of the messianic vocation, and willing to his “Lord and teacher” the “Lord and teacher” is the one who is wrong, actually. Look, it’s literally all of us arguing with Jesus at this point. In chapter 12, Peter – along with the other disciples – watch Jesus enter Jerusalem as a king, but we are narrated, on the side, that he is clueless as to what is happening as it is happening.

I listened to a Podcast, “This Cultural Moment,” that defined the current post-cultural narrative as “wanting a kingdom without a king.” We are all seeking a numb, wealthy, carefree, imported coffee utopia. We want to live carefree, blessed with fun. So, when Jesus invites us to stick our toes out to him, we look at our unshaven legs, our poorly painted toe nails, and get a whiff of the stink of the day on our foot and we rebuke Jesus out of our own shame. We want the utopian life, but we want to achieve it on our own on our own terms. We neither want to serve nor be served, for such a posture is risky.

We will not let Jesus serve us, because we do not want to return the favor. Serving Jesus may mean cleaning the feet of the annoying co-worker, or the homeless man we pass on the way to the office, the parishioner with a big mouth and poor eschatology, or our spouse or children who are on our last nerve. The way of Jesus is unsettling on display when the towel and basin come out. We want Jesus to win the way we win: large stakes, huge resources, guns and swords and truth. Jesus, instead, serves in humiliating ways.

Peter is wrong here. His proclivities are called into question and quickly exposed. How does one tell their Lord and teacher they are wrong? But, let us also come to the towel and basin of Jesus recognizing our own need for repentance. We have chosen victory, economics, comfort, violence, pleasure, and a myriad of other social norms over the way of Jesus. He washing our feet is equally as troubling, because deep down we know how sinful we have been, and how desperate we are for the cleansing Jesus offers.

But, if we can be cleansed of the grime on us, we know that we also must be gracious toward those we are called to serve. And that does not feel very utopian in our cultural narrative. And yet, Jesus calls us to do the same to others, because no servant (us) is greater than our master (him) – and our master is humble and filled with grace to the point of willing humiliation.

May we truly be as Jesus – filled with grace to the point of willing humiliation.