Tonight at Grace Presbyterian Church we celebrate Maundy Thursday, the night when Christ gave us the new commandment (mandatum) to love one another as He has loved us. We will re-enact the Last Supper with a cast of 12 disciples. We will also sing hymns and participate in a foot-washing ceremony.
On this night (described in John 13), Jesus picked up a towel and washed his disciples' feet. When he arrived to Peter, Peter wanted no part of it. Perhaps Peter had a bunion he did not want Jesus to see. Maybe Peter's toes were deformed. Maybe he had athlete's foot and was embarrassed?
I can assuredly say it was for neither of these reasons. Rather, Peter did not think it was appropriate for his Rabbi and Lord to take up such a servant role. After all, what teacher of his day would do such a thing, to come and wash the dust and grime off of his disciples' road-warn feet?
Today, I think we are just as reluctant to have our feet washed, but for different reasons. First of all, today this practice is unique to the Church; we do not practice this ritual (at least in my culture) outside the context of Christian liturgy. But when we practice it within the Church, it is just as uncomfortable as it was for Peter.
Why is this?
The feet, it seems to me, are a very personal area of our body. Some of us could care less if somebody handled our feet or saw our planter's wart, but for some it is a cause for great anxiety! One parishioner this morning said she was going to have a pedicure before the foot-washing tonight, so that her feet will look presentable.
I will partake in a pre-washing ceremony of my own. About an hour before the service, I will remove my socks and clean those dogs up, because I don't want to subject the foot-washer to feet that have been in sweaty socks all day long! Sounds like a respectable thing to do, right?
We do much the same thing in other areas of our lives, though, don't we? Before we walk into a worship service or show up for a church function, we go through a pre-washing ceremony to hide the blemishes, deformities, and uncleanliness of our lives. For some reason, church can make us feel like this, and it's too bad. Church should be a place where we can show up without polishing up.
That's the way it is, I guess. It just makes me think.
Tonight we are reminded to love each other, as Christ loved us. As I go forward to have my feet washed (pre-washed, of course), I will be thinking of Peter and saying to myself, "I know how you feel, brother." My silent prayer and hope is that we can all become more vulnerable and authentic with each other, bunions and all.
2 comments:
Similar observations to those in Blue Like Jazz. Author observed that in a hippie commune he lived in and a very liberal college he attended people were accepted and loved without condition. Weird, speech problems, strange clothes - all were accepted. But when he went to his "Christian" church he observed back biting comments, rejection - conditional love.
When someone dressed or looking like a homeless person enters your church, what do you do?
Absolutely. It is hard for people to be transparent in church because they feel that transparency will result in judgment. This can be broken down in congregations, but it takes work.
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