Do you know what I have done to you?

April 17, 2014

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

When the woman with the alabaster jar did it, it was a scandal.  A woman touching the feet of a man that she was unmarried to.   Especially considering that the woman was a sinner.  And when Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus did it, it was a scandal then, too.  But this time it was because she used an ointment made of nard, a very costly perfume, one that she would have saved up for over a year to be able to purchase.  According to Judas, that ointment should have been sold and the proceeds given to the poor.  And besides, in both cases, women were touching the feet of a man that neither one was married to.  That just wasn’t done.  

Washing feet was a basic form of hospitality in Jesus’ time.  It was just something you did for your guests.  But it was the job of a servant of the same gender as the person whose feet were being washed…not something a strange woman, or even a friend who just happened to be a woman, did. 

But then Jesus does it.  Jesus gets up in the middle of dinner and washes the disciple’s feet.  When Jesus does it, we usually wind up talking about how foot washing is a physical manifestation of what it means to love one another as Jesus loved us. A man who was master and teacher, kneeling at the feet of his friends and taking on the role of a servant to provide hospitality for his students.

But what if you are someone that doesn’t like feet?  What if you are a person who doesn’t like touching other people’s feet or having your feet touched?  Then how does it sound when you are told that washing feet or allowing someone to wash your feet is a manifestation of love?  For the person with a foot issue, it sounds kind of bizarre.  Almost off putting, really.

And then there are those of us who are self-conscious about our feet.  What if they smell?  What if someone notices the scar or the tattoo on there?  What if my toenails are discolored?  Oh dear, I cannot remember the last time I got a pedicure that the nail polish from that trip is still there.  What if they look at me funny because I lost a toe in a work accident? 

There are lots of reasons that we can be self-conscious about our feet.  They are our vulnerable spot.  A problem with your feet can cause problems elsewhere in your body.  And we like to hide our feet with footwear, sometimes to protect them, other times to keep others from seeing the imperfections.  But they are at their best when they are exposed. 

When babies learn to walk, they do best on bare feet.  The best runners run barefoot in order to maintain the natural gate that our hunter gatherer ancestors had. 

Feet were made, not to be covered, but to be exposed, to transport us where we need to go, to become calloused and scarred and hardened.  They were meant to get dirty and they carry us on the journey of life.

But in the days of Steve maddens and red wing boots, jimmy choos and converse, exposed feet often make us feel vulnerable, exposed, uncomfortable.  

And we don’t like to be vulnerable and exposed. 

It’s just not done, especially if you are a man in modern day America where we look to the Avengers and the likes of Chuck Norris and Sylvester Stallone as proper measures of masculinity. 

Vulnerable and exposed are bad words in this day in age.

But if we are completely honest, whether we like it or not, when we stand before our Lord and Savior in these holiest of days, no matter how hard we try and mask it, we can’t help but be vulnerable and exposed, our sin laid bare, in front of the one whom we call Messiah. 

The first time I participated in individual absolution on Maundy Thursday was in Seminary.  And the person who proclaimed absolution to me was my favorite professor.  A man who I respect and admire greatly.  And to feel his hands on my head and to hear him say to me that my sins were forgiven, I felt as if I had tripped and fallen and scrapped my knee and my grandfather had come to my side and told me that it was ok.  The scrape would heal. 

And as Jesus kneels before the disciples, half naked, washing their feet, hardened, calloused, dirty, scarred, imperfect, we stand as witnesses to a man and his friends engaged in one of the most intimate moments that scripture opens up to us. 

An act of washing, of forgiveness, and of humility, performed on twenty four feet.  Even on the feet of the one who would deny him…even on the feet of the ones who would desert him…even on the feet of the one who would betray him.

What a moment that must have been.  To know that it was the Messiah kneeling before you, dressed like a slave, washing and drying your feet.  Seeing the dirt and the callouses and the bunions, and the scars, the imperfections exposed for everyone else to see…And knowing that the person with your feet in his hands would take the imperfections that are not visible on the rest of your body but present none the less, with him when he died.

An intimate moment. 

It’s the moment in which a religious leader breaks tradition and washes and kisses the feet of a female inmate whose faith is not his own.

It’s the moment in which a person takes the maimed body of a stranger into his arms and carries him to safety after a bomb goes off.

It’s the moment in which a child shaves the face of a father who is ailing.

It’s the moment in which a daughter in law bathes the mother in law who no longer remembers her name. 

It’s the moment in which a four year old washes the feet of her one year old brother in front of an entire congregation, whispering “It’s ok, Brooks, mommy’s got you….I’m almost done” when he gets fussy.

 

Do you know what I have done to you? Jesus asked. 

Do you know what I am going to do for you? Jesus asked (This part I made up)

I am going to lay down my life for you.  I am going to take all your imperfections and your sins and I am going to take them with me. 

And I am going to leave you something to remember this.

Some bread and some wine.  My very self, present in these elements.  They are for you.  Take them, eat them, drink them. Remember me and the love I have for you.  And love one another with the love that I have for you.