Let Jesus wash you

Maundy Thursday (April 1, 2010)

John 13:1-17,34-35

(1)  It was now the day before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved those in the world who were his own, and he loved them to the very end. (2)  Jesus and his disciples were at supper. The Devil had already put into the heart of Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, the thought of betraying Jesus.

(3)  Jesus knew that the Father had given him complete power; he knew that he had come from God and was going to God. (4)  So he rose from the table, took off his outer garment, and tied a towel around his waist. (5)  Then he poured some water into a washbasin and began to wash the disciples' feet and dry them with the towel around his waist. (6)  He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Are you going to wash my feet, Lord?"

(7)  Jesus answered him, "You do not understand now what I am doing, but you will understand later."

(8)  Peter declared, "Never at any time will you wash my feet!" "If I do not wash your feet," Jesus answered, "you will no longer be my disciple." 

(9)  Simon Peter answered, "Lord, do not wash only my feet, then! Wash my hands and head, too!"

(10)  Jesus said, "Those who have taken a bath are completely clean and do not have to wash themselves, except for their feet. All of you are clean---all except one." (11)  (Jesus already knew who was going to betray him; that is why he said, "All of you, except one, are clean.") (12)  After Jesus had washed their feet, he put his outer garment back on and returned to his place at the table.  "Do you understand what I have just done to you?" he asked. (13)  "You call me Teacher and Lord, and it is right that you do so, because that is what I am. (14)  I, your Lord and Teacher, have just washed your feet. You, then, should wash one another's feet. (15)  I have set an example for you, so that you will do just what I have done for you. (16)  I am telling you the truth: no slaves are greater than their master, and no messengers are greater than the one who sent them. (17)  Now that you know this truth, how happy you will be if you put it into practice!

…

 (34)  And now I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. (35)  If you have love for one another, then everyone will know that you are my disciples."

A friend of mine sent me a humourous photo a little while ago, of some fresh line marking on a highway. Unless you’re into that sort of thing lines on a highway aren’t usually very interesting. But this picture showed the lines going up and over a dead animal. The caption said, ‘So? It’s not my job.’

I wonder what is the most distasteful job in your household? Putting out the rubbish? Cleaning the toilet? Changing the nappies (Americans read: ‘diapers’)?  And who gets to do it?

Jesus took off his coat, put a towel around his waist, put water into a basin and began to wash his disciples smelly, dirty feet, feet that had been walking the dusty Palestinian roads shared by animals who would do what comes naturally to animals… namely add some ‘fertiliser’ to the road’s surface.

It was a job that had to be done. Who would do it? Not long before, the disciples had been arguing about ‘who was the greatest?’

Who was most important?

Who is most important?

Listen to how John describes the start of this event:

“It was now the day before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved those in the world who were his own, and he loved them to the very end. (2)  Jesus and his disciples were at supper. The Devil had already put into the heart of Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, the thought of betraying Jesus. (3)  Jesus knew that the Father had given him complete power; he knew that he had come from God and was going to God. (4)  So he rose from the table, and [took up a towel and water…]

In our egalitarian culture, we might not mind if our prime minister [president/the Queen] came down and moved some stock or helped set the table for dinner. We wouldn’t mind. But we would be shocked if he went and started to clean our toilet or change our baby’s nappy. That would be going too far.

In Isaiah 55:8 the Lord declares: "my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways." 

God doesn’t do things our way. He doesn’t work by our rules. He doesn’t obey our social and cultural standards or follow our official hierarchies or unofficial pecking orders.

And it’s just as well.

Peter couldn’t handle what he saw as Jesus’ demeaning himself. ‘No way! Don’t do this! It’s not right!’

Jesus said, ‘Peter, if you don’t let me serve you, you can’t be my disciple.’

Later in the passage we hear Jesus make the point that he washed their feet to give them an example of the kinds of things we wanted them to do, in loving service to other people. That’s the point we usually focus on. “Jesus washed feet, so we should too.” Some Christians take this literally, and hold footwashing ceremonies as part of their worship services, where selected people get their already thoroughly cleaned feet washed.

A footwashing ceremony can be a powerful thing. I have seen a photo of a wedding in which the groom is washing his brides feet. Why would he do that? He is doing that because he wants her to know that he loves her, and his desire is not to have a relationship in which he dominates her or orders her around, but rather he wants to commit himself to Christ-like service to her, in their marriage.

A few years ago (as a student teacher) I was able to attend a retreat for a class of students at a Catholic boys school. At the end of the retreat, after various boisterous activities, they led the boys in exercises in which they were asked to think about their shared humanity and the significant value of each person there, in God’s eyes. They were invited to participate in a simple ritual in which they could wash another person’s hand.

Just before they finished, one boy came to lead me over to the bowl. At first I felt self-conscious. I also felt awkward because I was meant to be the teacher, the one in charge, the giver, not a receiver. I already knew, intellectually, that God loved me. I knew, intellectually, that God was happy with me, because of what Jesus had done. He had forgiven me, and continues to love and accept me daily. I knew that. I didn’t need that silly ritual. The year 9 boy who was inviting me to participate in the ritual happened to be one of the boys who had not behaved all that well in my lessons. I felt a bit indignant, despite all my theories about treating everyone with respect and allowing students the dignity of being people who lead and give as well as follow and receive. Besides, it was Catholic! (And I was after all, a more enlightened(?!) Lutheran). But not wanting to make a fuss, I decided to go along with it. He took me to the bowl on the table in the centre of the circle. And in a clumsy and simple way, washed one hand, then the other. It was a strange sensation. The sensation of being accepted. Affirmed. Valued. The love of God I knew in my head, also touched my heart.

My salvation didn’t depend on joining in that ritual. But it does depend on getting washed by another person. By Jesus.

"If I do not wash your feet," Jesus said to Peter, "you cannot be my disciple." 

Peter could have washed his own feet. But Jesus was hinting at something much deeper. There is a deep washing we all need, a washing we cannot do for ourselves: the washing away of sin.

We may choose to refuse and resist the work of God, as he comes to us to wash us in baptism, and through his word of forgiveness. We might say, ‘I don’t need all this religious stuff! I’m all right! Not perfect, but that won’t matter, will it? I’ll be ok.’

To that Jesus says, ‘Unless I wash you, there is no hope.’

Unless I die for you and pay your debts, the debts of your sin and rebellion against God, you haven’t a hope. Because the judgement won’t depend our deluded ideas that we’ve been ‘good enough’ for God. There has to be justice. God’s law is too good to be mocked or set aside as not relevant or important. God doesn’t set aside his law. But he chose to come and face his law, from our side, and take the consequences onto himself…. To save us having to face his judgement in eternity.

He’s done the work. And now he says, ‘I want to wash you. I have died for your sins. I can make you clean, in every way. I do this through baptism. I do this through the words I speak to you, as you read and hear the gospel. I do this, as you receive me in the Lord’s Supper.’

Jesus washed his disciples feet. He calls us to serve others in similar acts of humble service. But first he must wash us clean.

Will you let him wash you?

Amen.