April 18, 2019/Maundy Thursday
John 13:1-35
I would be horrified,
if He walked up the center aisle right now,
towel tied around his waist
basin of water in his hands
and knelt at my feet
my feet
with the two dots of leftover polish
on each big toe,
the cracked heels and dry soles.
I would be all wrapped up in worry
over how I would look
how He would see me
how my feet would feel to his hands
how they would look to his eyes
how they would smell to his nose
that I wouldn’t even notice the point of it all.
The point of it all?
Not that we be washed from head to toe –
you didn’t get it, Peter –
not that we be scrubbed of the dirt of the day
of the transferred dye from cheap shoes
of the body odor from sweat rippling down our backs
in the hot room
that’s not the point, Peter.
The point is,
am I willing to do as He did?
Am I willing to strip away the fancy
remove the decorative
take off the finery
present myself in simple garb
only what is needful
only what will serve
a simple towel
basin of clear water
and hands –
my hands –
to lift each foot tenderly,
pour the water over and catch the drips in the basin,
softly pat the skin dry?
Am I willing?
Willing to move from one pair of feet
to the next
to the next
without concern for their
color
shape
smell
size
but to touch each one
with the same loving attention
He showed me?
I wonder, sometimes,
sitting in the salon waiting for my nails to dry
how they stand it,
these Vietnamese immigrants,
how they tolerate
the feet that are bared to them each day.
Even for money,
I’m not sure I would be willing.
And He asks – no tells – us,
to wash them,
wash them all.
To love them,
love them all,
just like He did.
Just like He did.
asecondcalling 