John 13:1-17, April 5, 2012 UCUMC

By Heidi Denman

I have a confession to make. A couple of weeks ago, I skipped church to have pancakes with my family and some friends. It ¢â‚¬â„¢s a tradition we began over 25 years ago, this Lenten trek to Berkshire High School in Burton. Those Rotarians make the best pancakes and maple syrup! And the sausage! We agreed this year it was even tastier than usual. But even though this year, my tribe of eight adults and three very young children did manage to consume 88 pancakes and 40 sausage patties between us ¢â‚¬”it is not all about the food. The last two years, this annual affair has become a time of remembering, a chance to reflect and be grateful for one another, for friends and family who have walked with us in this life, in the good times and the difficult times, as well. For us, it has become a bit like a Passover meal. We have our ritual foods, we remember, we share memories and we love one another.

This text from John is also about a meal ¢â‚¬”and it is also not about the food. As so often happens when family and friends get together, that last meal Jesus ate with his disciples was likely a bit ¢â‚¬”tense. Matthew ¢â‚¬â„¢s gospel tells us that just days before, the disciples had been arguing amongst themselves about who was the greatest, and Mama Zebedee, the mother of James and John, had actually petitioned Jesus on her sons ¢â‚¬â„¢ behalf, that they might sit, one at his right hand and one at his left when they entered the Kingdom. (Of course, none of them had any idea what any of that actually meant, except Jesus.) But now, they are all together, and preparing to begin the celebration of the Passover, the time of remembering how the Lord delivered the children of Israel out of Egypt and out of the hands of a cruel Pharaoh.

It probably began a lot like any other Passover meal, with prayers, some special foods and times of remembering, proclaiming God ¢â‚¬â„¢s faithfulness. But in the middle of the meal, Jesus, in full awareness of who he was and what lay ahead, set out to give his disciples one last lesson in love. Everything he had shown them as they lived and travelled together was coming together now, on this night.

Halfway through the meal, Jesus got up from the table, took off his outer robe and girded himself with a towel around his waist. Silently he filled a basin with water and began to wash the feet of these men whom he loved: the fishermen, the tax collector ¢â‚¬”and even the feet of the one who would soon betray him. He gently cleansed their feet and dried them lovingly with the towel around his waist.

John doesn ¢â‚¬â„¢t tell us what the other disciples were thinking, only Peter. Maybe they just didn ¢â‚¬â„¢t get it, or maybe they were too shocked or stunned to speak. You see, in those days, it was common practice for a host to provide water so his guests who had walked long, dusty roads to get there might avail themselves of the opportunity to cool and cleanse their feet. A wealthy person might even assign a Gentile slave to the task ¢â‚¬”or a woman ¢â‚¬”or a young child. This was not a coveted task. Washing the calloused, dirty feet of the guests of the household was a menial duty assigned to the lowest of the low.

But when Jesus got to Peter ¢â‚¬”well, Peter was seldom left speechless, now, was he?

 ¢â‚¬Å“Lord ¢â‚¬”are you going to wash my feet? ¢â‚¬  Surely, in Peter ¢â‚¬â„¢s mind, the student should be serving the rabbi, not the other way around!

Peter has a good heart. He is a true believer ¢â‚¬”but he is also na ƒ ¯ve and presumptuous, always speaking in terms like always and never. Peter always seems so ¢â‚¬”certain. And now, even as Jesus gently explains that someday they will understand, someday it will all make sense ¢â‚¬”Peter blurts out,  ¢â‚¬Å“NO! You will never wash my feet! ¢â‚¬ 

Seriously. Where in the gospels is Peter anything less than emphatic in his responses? It ¢â‚¬â„¢s  ¢â‚¬Å“always ¢â‚¬  or it ¢â‚¬â„¢s  ¢â‚¬Å“never, ¢â‚¬  it ¢â‚¬â„¢s  ¢â‚¬Å“yes ¢â‚¬  or it ¢â‚¬â„¢s  ¢â‚¬Å“no, ¢â‚¬  and seldom is he listening for why it cannot be so.

 ¢â‚¬Å“You will never wash my feet! ¢â‚¬  Peter tells the Lord.

Jesus responds,  ¢â‚¬Å“Unless I wash you, you have no part with me. ¢â‚¬  Right now, in this mission, if you do not allow me to cleanse your feet, there is no role for you to play.

And good old Peter, not understanding, cries out,  ¢â‚¬Å“Then not just my feet! Wash my head and my hands, as well! ¢â‚¬  Never mind that physically, the rest of Peter, apart from his feet, was likely already ritually clean from his preparation for the Passover. Never mind that Peter was a BIG MAN and Jesus had but a basin and a small towel. No, Peter wanted it all.  ¢â‚¬Å“Cleanse me, Lord, top-to-toe, so I may have a place with you. ¢â‚¬ 

Even in this exchange, we get a glimpse of just how much Jesus must have loved them, as he patiently reminds Peter that he already had his bath; just his feet will do nicely.

Are you picturing this in your mind? Jesus, Son of Man, is on his knees, gently pouring cool water over the tired, smelly, dusty feet of his disciples. The water, once clean, becomes brown and filthy with mud and splashes on Jesus, leaving him damp ¢â‚¬”and dirty. Yet he continues until the task is complete, allowing the dirt of those he loves to soil his very person. Then he quietly puts his robe back on and returns to his place at the table.

In the same way, Jesus, Son of God, gave up the royal robes of heaven to take on human flesh, suffered all manner of pain and suffering so we might be restored to righteousness before the Father, and then quietly returned to his seat at the Father ¢â‚¬â„¢s right hand.

Up until now, Jesus ¢â‚¬â„¢ time with the disciples and his time in ministry had been a time of invitation.  ¢â‚¬Å“Come and see. ¢â‚¬ 

Walking along the Sea of Galilee, Jesus beckons to Simon and Andrew, then to James and John:  ¢â‚¬Å“Come. Come and see the Kingdom of God. ¢â‚¬ 

Zacchaeus, the wee little man of Sunday school fame, wanted so badly to catch a glimpse of Jesus, he climbed a sycamore tree ¢â‚¬”and Jesus, seeing him there, invited him:  ¢â‚¬Å“Come. Come down from there and let me dine with you tonight. ¢â‚¬  And his life was changed forever.

The Samaritan woman at the well, amazed that Jesus knew her so well, so intimately, told her friends, told anyone who would listen:  ¢â‚¬Å“Come. Come and see a man who told me everything about myself. ¢â‚¬ 

Peter, when the Twelve are being tossed about in a small boat on the Sea of Galilee, sees a figure on the water and says to the figure,  ¢â‚¬Å“If you are Jesus, tell me to come to you across the water. ¢â‚¬  And Jesus simply says,  ¢â‚¬Å“Come. Come and see ¢â‚¬”and believe. ¢â‚¬ 

But now, at this last supper the disciples and Jesus have together, the tone changes.

Jesus reminds them all,  ¢â‚¬Å“You call me Teacher and Rabbi ¢â‚¬”and I am your teacher and your rabbi. Now, let ¢â‚¬â„¢s see what you have learned. ¢â‚¬ 

During their time together, Jesus taught them. He taught them with Hebrew Scripture and he taught them through parables. He beckoned them,  ¢â‚¬Å“Come and see the faith of a blind man healed; come and see the deep devotion of this bleeding woman. Come and see my love for this man Lazarus, for as I love him, I also love you. ¢â‚¬ 

In their sloth and in their foolishness, in their na ƒ ¯vet ƒ © and in their lack of understanding, Jesus never stopped teaching ¢â‚¬”and he never stopped loving them. On this night, John tells us, the Son of Man showed them the full extent of his love. In humbleness, he became like a servant, a Gentile slave, and silently washed their feet, even the feet of Judas Iscariot.

Someone once defined humility, not as thinking poorly of yourself, but simply as not thinking of yourself at all.

In silence and humility, not thinking of himself at all, Jesus washed their feet ¢â‚¬”and then, having invited them to come and see, he issued a new commandment: Go. And do.

 ¢â‚¬Å“As I, whom you call Teacher and Lord, have washed your feet, so you now should wash one another ¢â‚¬â„¢s feet. ¢â‚¬ 

As God first loved you, go now and love one another. Go ¢â‚¬”and do.

So this, friends, is why we gather tonight, on Maundy Thursday. That word Maundy, from the Latin mandatum, also gives us the word mandate ¢â‚¬”and the word commandment.

On that night before the Passover feast, Jesus issued a new commandment to all who would follow him: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength ¢â‚¬”and strive to love those with whom you journey, as God has first loved you.

Not just the ones who think like we think, but the ones who see things differently from us, as well. Not just the pretty ones, or the ones with engaging smiles, but the ones whose beauty may be hidden deep inside. Not just the ones who are clean and smell good, but the ones upon whom the Holy Spirit has breathed a special fragrance of love.

On that night Jesus showed his disciples ¢â‚¬”showed us how to love even the person who will betray us, even unto death. Now it is our turn, our time. Because that person, the one who can seem oh, so hard to love, just may need to experience the unconditional love of God most of all. Go. And do. Amen.