Prepared by John Campbell
4/17/25
Exodus 12: 1-4, 11-14, Psalm 116:1, 10-17, 1 Cor 11: 23- 26, John 3: 13-35.
Imagine you are one of Jesus’ disciples. You are on your way to observe the meal recorded in the 13th chapter of John’s Gospel. What would it be like towalk down a city street in the Jerusalem of Jesus’ time? The streets are narrow. There are numerous pedestrians jostling you, there are carts beingdrawn by oxen and others by horses. You are going to the house of a wealthy family who support Jesus’ ministry. They have offered their hospitality and the upper room of their home for Jesus and his disciples to have supper. The possibility of you arriving without having stepped in something would be nextto nil. If you were going to a poor household on entering you would remove your sandals and wash your feet. In the household to which you are headed on entry you will be shown a chair. A slave will remove your sandals and wash your feet. At the table everyone including Jesus and will be barefoot.
As we think about Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, it is good to keep three points in mind. First, what Jesus did was a symbolic act. Remember that everyone’s feet would have been cleaned at the door. Had Jesus washed the disciples feet at the door—it would have been incomprehensible. As it was what Jesus actually did was strange enough. After dinner when Jesus got up, set aside his tunic, and proceeded to take the basin, the pitcher and the towel—it would have been clear enough that through his silent action he was making a statement.
Which leads us to our second point. What was Jesus saying? You and I look at Jesus’ action through the approving lenses of tradition. Consider the scene as his disciples likely saw it—with surprise, shock and trepidation. In the past, Jesus had said some strange things. Was this the bridge too far? Had he lost it? Of course his disciples were confused.
In vs. 13 Jesus begin to explain himself. ‘Do you know what I have done to you?’” And then he continues for five chapters.
Which raises the question which is our third point: Matthew’s gospel says of Jesus “He taught as one having authority (my emphasis) and not as the scribes.” (Matt 7: 28, 29) Authority has weight. An authority is someone whom one looks up to, someone one treats with respect. An authority is revered and is supposed to act accordingly. How could anyone look up to a leader who was so willing to make a mockery of any pretense to authority by getting on his knees and imitating one of the most degrading tasks assigned to a slave?
There is a difference between humility and humiliation. Our third question then is this: In washing his disciples feet was Jesus humiliating himself and the dignity of his role as a teacher in Israel and as a descendant of King David? As we reflect on this question consider that Jesus’ action was not without precursors—though what he did with foot-washing was radically new. The first reference to foot-washing in the Hebrew Scriptures is Gen 18:4 where Abraham offers to wash the feet of his three angelic guests. We read in first Samuel that David’s future wife Abigail washed the feet of David’s men. (1 Sam.25: 41). But then David and his men were a raiding party and Abigail’s action was strategic. Abigail’s timely acquiescence in treating David and his men as guests rather than a threat to the safety of her household—turned what could have been David’s seizure of her property by violence and bloodshed, as a necessity of war, into a timely alliance. (1 Sam 25: 32-35). Abigail’s act was strategic but Jesus’ was not. If we were to locate a better precedent for Jesus’ foot-washing we might look to another action of his ancestor David. When the Ark of the Covenant was returned to Jerusalem, we read in (II Samuel 6:5) “David and Israel played (danced) before God with all their might”. As you may recall another of David’s wives: Michal, found his dancing disgusting, vulgar and unworthy of a King.
Was she right? A source tells us that in ancient Hebrew shahak means to make merry and is used in reference to the ecstatic worship of God. There also is a word hul which means to whirl, twist, writhe. Perhaps David and ancient Israel were pioneers in break dancing?
Now what if King David knew that when the love of Israel’s God becomes embodied, incarnate in sacred action, King and subjects are taken out of themselves, the people draw closer to one another and leave pride and rank behind? At very least David’s action prefigured future prophetic moments when the Kingdom would draw near as when in the case of John the Baptist and Jesus the people would sense its presence.
Beyond these examples from the life of David, further precedent for Jesus foot-washing is the dinner to which he was invited at the home of the Pharisee Simon in Luke’s gospel. (Lk. 7: 36-50) While he was there a woman of the town washed his feet with her tears, kissed them and poured on them scented oil. Luke tells us Simon thought to himself that if Jesus were a prophet he would know she was a sinful woman. Notice Simon associates the role of prophet with social status which to maintain requires distance from anything convention says is unclean, of ill repute, out-cast or beyond the pale. Jesus, to Simon’s surprise, affirms through a parable that the person with the greatest value in the eyes of God is the person who has the greatest gratitude for forgiveness.
What are we today to make of this ancient, antique ritual from another time, place and culture? Does it teach us humility? Or is it an exercise in humiliation?
Today, foot-washing is a challenging rite even for many practicing Christians. Last Week I ran into a neighbor at QFC who has attended St. Joseph’s near Sand Hill Elementary for decades. I mentioned I was preaching today and asked her “Do you observe foot-washing”—meaning does her parish observe it. She said “I never go to church on Thursday;” When I joined the Anglican communion from another tradition, I was drawn by the liturgy. I was unfamiliar with Maundy Thursday, but it was my first year and I wanted to get myself settled so I attended. When I realized what was happening I was uncomfortable, self-conscious, and wished this basin might pass me by. When the deacon on her knees took my foot, softly, assuredly and I felt the warm water flow over my feet a gentle persuasion centered my mind. The world, I realized, was upside down and I had formed many ideas of myself and others when in the spiritual posture of standing on my head. When I arose from my chair and thought about the night class I had yet to teach, I wondered if anyone would notice for the first time, I was looking at them right side up?
Perhaps our hesitation at the prospect of having our bare feet washed in public clarifies where we truly stand—with respect to Jesus and many of his other difficult teachings. Are we willing, in the midst of life, to set aside ego, ambition and risk the respectful image others have formed of us? Are we willing to cross the transom, on the other side of which lies not humiliation, but our human stature restored in the welcoming hospitality of grace?