Washing Feet

If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. ~ John 13:14

It is far easier to think of washing the feet of Jesus than washing one another’s feet. Jesus is Lord. He is a mighty warrior, commander of the Lord’s armies. He is the humble king. His gentle hands cover the heads of babes.

Jesus understands me. He has listened to me, protected me, saved me. Jesus has never lied to me, never broken trust with me. Even when his words have wounded me, it has been for my betterment, my good.

To wash Jesus’ feet is humbling but also a beautiful privilege.

But that is not what he commanded me: you also ought to wash one another’s feet.

It is hard to wash one another’s feet. It is hard to lower myself, to let go of my pride and my rights, to let go of my desires to be recognized, respected, appreciated, to kneel in the dust not at the feet of the Master but to another clay jar. Kneeling at the feet of other people is messy, tangled with emotions and misunderstanding, accompanied by the sharp edge of my own stubborn will which has not been well tamed.

It is hard to wash the feet of those who don’t get me, those who have hurt me, those who are petulant, immature, tiresome, and mistake prone.

And yet, my Jesus doesn’t ask me to do anything that He has not done first. If the king could wash the feet of his own betrayer, perhaps I too can find the quiet humble ways to serve that have been set before me. Perhaps I can also see the times when others have washed my own feet, serving me when I did not deserve it.

It is here in the mess and the grime that I realize the humility and beauty of Jesus’ love for me. And it is here, amidst stinky feet and murky water, that I might become just a little more like my master.

Photo by Danique Godwin on Unsplash