October 20, 2024
John 13: 1-20
I couldn’t help it. I flinched. When my Lord knelt at my feet to wash them as a servant, I reacted without thinking - something I’ll admit that had come up before in my life. I knew better, but at that moment I didn’t - couldn’t - do better.
It’s not that foot washing was odd to me. It’s not that it wasn’t appropriate for the moment. The washing of feet was an expression of hospitality in our culture. It was customary and even expected. What was odd was to see our teacher, our Lord, take on this servants’ or lower status duty. Surely the son of God was of higher status than my ragtag buddies and me! But our teacher always had his own way of doing things. Not only did he wash our feet after our meal - this was always a pre-meal service - he talked about what he was doing, which would normally be unnecessary for so normal and menial a task. A few days later my buddies and I would understand why Jesus made this hospitable washing the center-point of our evening. Why he talked about something so commonplace. A few days later we’d know better what he was doing.
So, when Jesus took off his outer garment, tied a towel around his waist, grabbed water basin and started making his way around the room washing first Philip’s feet, then a James, then Thaddeus and Judas I wondered why no one else was objecting. Why weren’t my brothers reluctant to participate? This trading of places between us and our leader didn’t make sense so I said something,
“Master, you wash my feet?”
Jesus’ answer was typically cryptic. “You don’t understand now what I’m doing, but it will be clear enough to you later.”
Normally that would have been enough for me not to push, but as I said, thinking before doing isn’t always my strong suit. So, I persisted, “You’re not going to wash my feet—ever!”
My master’s response was quick and sharp; “If I don’t wash you, you can’t be part of what I’m doing.” I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I wasn’t willing to jeopardize my standing with Jesus. I believed too much in him and what we were doing as a community. I knew I was doing the right thing by being this man’s disciple so in that moment I made a decision.
I made a decision to go all in. I didn’t hesitate at all - at least not this time - and though I didn’t know exactly where all of this was leading, I was just in that moment I was doing the right thing and so said, “Master!” said Peter. “Not only my feet, then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!” “Give me a full bath; wash every bit of me.”
Then Jesus said something that would only become clear later - that we disciples only needed to have our feet washed because we were clean. At least, most of us were clean. As we’d come to know later one among us would betray our Lord. One among us would help hand him over. One who sat at the table that night. Whose feet were washed by the Teacher would do the unthinkable. But then he wasn’t the only one who knew better and yet did not do better.
Now friends, with the voice of Peter in your mind, let’s transition to the voice of The Most Reverend Michael Curry. But do put a pin in Peter because we will return to him.
In his own sermon about John 13, Bishop Curry told this story:
“I was about 12 or 13 when I had a conversation with my father that I still remember. I don't know what the subject matter was, but whatever I said my father blurted out, ‘You know, the Lord didn't put you here just to consume the oxygen!’”
“I don't think that was a considered, reasoned, philosophical, or theological statement. It was more likely a classic parental response to 13-year-old hormones expressing themselves. But whatever the case, he really said something important. The Lord didn't put me here, he didn't put you here, he didn't put us here, just to consume oxygen. We are not just here for mere biological purposes. The key word in the sentence is "just." We are not here just to consume the oxygen. But we are here in part to consume oxygen.”
The Bishop goes on to explain that our world is made up of, “intimate, interconnected, symbiotic, biological, ecological relationship[s] between various forms of life, between all humans, between human beings and other forms of life and existence.”
And as Dr. King wrote in his Letters from a Birmingham jail, "We are bound together in an inescapable network of mutuality. Tied in a single garment of destiny."
So, part of what we do is consume oxygen, but that’s not all we do. I’m not a scientist but I do remember that we animals inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide. Plants then take the carbon dioxide in and then “they release or exhale, the oxygen. In other words, they give us what we need, and we give them what they need.”
As Bishop Curry points out, “We are here to inhale and to exhale. We are here to receive and to give. To be loved and to love. To be cared for and to care. To be justly treated and to treat others justly. To have food, clothing and shelter, and to labor for a world where every man, woman, and child has adequate food, adequate clothing, adequate shelter. To be equally treated with the human rights intended by God for all, and to labor so that all are equal in our society and global communities. No, the Lord didn't put us here just to consume. The Lord also put us here to give, to serve, to love.”
Now, take that pin out of Peter because With Peter’s voice still ringing in our ears, we’re going to be a bit presumptuous and add to The Most Reverend's list: We are here to think and do.
To know that Jesus shouldn’t ever wash our feet but to accept the beautiful gift and example of him doing just that.
To do the work of following Christ’s example, but also knowing it’s possible there will be times that aren’t faithful, when we let our fear get the better of us, when we put our need to survive ahead of Jesus’ example.
Or to put it another way that will likely sound familiar, we’re here to think freely, individually, have our own opinions and understanding of God. And yet we are bound together in service to that God and the world. We are a community that should be defined by our ability to make room at the table, our ability to make room for new ideas, make room for any and all who come through our doors. Inhale and exhale, know and do.
My friends when Jesus washes the disciples’ feet, he “exemplifies the sacrificial love he expects from his disciples…[then and now]. He sets for them a pattern of service, of humility, of bearing the burdens of another…[and] on this night, he commands that those who would be his followers…serve each other for his sake.” And in this sacrificial, servant action Jesus sets an example - he does something - for the disciples to emulate. But the Good News this morning is that Christ doesn’t stop with just action. He doesn’t stop with the physical.
There’s also a knowing, and awareness, a confidence that comes with following his tangible example and it’s this: “Jesus’ death on the cross is not for one moment considered defeat or tragedy; rather it is the moment of his triumph and glorification.” It’s knowing that despite what we’d expect, despite what we’ve seen evidence of before “grace is revealed in suffering, that power is displayed through weakness, that glory is disguised in humiliation.” And while that knowledge might make us flinch, might make us say, “Master, you want to wash my feet?” the promise of God, the promise of Christ’s resurrection, the promise God will show up exactly where we least expect God to be begins with a kneeling Jesus. Holding a basin of water with a towel tied around his waist washing the disciples’ - including Judas and Peter - feet.
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