Whose Feet Do You Need to Wash?

“Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross” (Phil. 2:5-8).

Can you think of a time you experienced a terribly awkward moment? I’m afraid I’ve had way too many of those. It’s so uncomfortable, so embarrassing. Awkward moments seem to come when we haven’t planned for something properly, or from a miscommunication; I know that’s usually the case with me. My wife can tell you that I’m not the best “listener,” because I am easily distracted. My mind wanders.

Medical school provided me with ample opportunities for awkward moments. There was so much to learn—so many new experiences—and information was being sprayed at me like a fire hose on full blast. I can remember more awkward moments than I have space to share.

One awkward moment, however, comes to mind. It was during my first year; we were to have a final exam in our neuroanatomy class. I had studied very hard and for many hours, late into the night, and yet I still felt as though I wasn’t well prepared.

The one detail—a critical one—that I seem to have missed was the timethe test was to start on Friday morning. On Thursday night I asked a fellow classmate who happened to live in the dormitory down the hall from me what time the exam began. He said, “8:30. No? Yeah, 8:30.” So I set my alarm clock appropriately, and then I studied well into the night before turning in for a few hours of sleep. 

The next morning I arrived at 8:20, 10 minutes early, just to be safe. I was already anxious.

I walked into the room where the test was to be given. Our classrooms were arranged in amphitheater style, with the teacher’s desk and blackboard in the front at the bottom and rows of stadium chairs and desks ascending away and upward, seemingly infinitely. When I entered the room at the bottom—in full view for all to see—to my horror, the room was filled with 100 classmates already taking their exams. I was late! My face turned bright red, and I wanted to sink through the floor as everyone looked up from their tests to see who the dunce was that was walking in late. The professor curtly handed me my test with a disgusted look on his face, and I had to find my way to an empty seat.

It was so awkward. I remember it as if it were yesterday.

I hate those awkward moments.

The Awkward Celebration

It was Passover season, and everyone had gathered at Jerusalem along with Jesus for the grand celebration. To the Jews at that time, Passover was like our Christmas, Easter, and the American Fourth of July celebrations all rolled into one. It was the highlight of their year. People came from miles around, some traveling many days.

Jesus had secured a room to use for a Passover meal. (Some believe it was in the home of Mary, the mother of Mark, and it would later become a room in which the early Christians gathered.) Jesus had told Peter and John to go ahead, and that they would meet a man in Jerusalem carrying a pitcher of water. That man would be the contact person to lead them to their room, where they were to make final arrangements for the Passover meal.

When I entered the room at the bottom—in full view for all to see—to my horror, the room was filled . . . I was late!

Thursday night came, and when the disciples began to arrive, they expected a typical Passover meal. They met, as planned, in the upper room with Jesus—and the awkward moment came immediately as they began to gather. Peter and John had forgotten one very important detail: they had not arranged for a servant to be present to take care of their basic needs—particularly the need to have their dusty, dirty, sandal-clad feet washed to prepare them for the Passover meal. It was not just customary but expected that this would happen at any time that people were gathering for an event in someone’s home. This was a major faux pas; it would be the modern-day equivalent of entering a Hilton hotel, and as you are checking in, the front desk clerk hands you a bucket of cleaning supplies. “Sorry, sir, our janitorial staff is off today, so you will need to clean your own room.” Can you imagine?

They must have realized what was wrong right away. I mean, the pitcher was there, the basin was there, and the towel was in full view.

I can picture it in my mind: Peter blushing, turns to John, “I’m not doing that! Are you going to do it?”

“I’m not going to do it!”

“You need to do it; you’re the one who forgot to get the servant!”

“No way!”

“Let’s get Judas to do it.”

So awkward. The others didn’t seem to mention it, and with no one stepping up for the job, they began the meal with dirty feet. Peter and John were probably holding their breath, hoping that no one would say something. Maybe as a point of distraction, John started to argue with his brother James about who would assume the greatest position when Jesus established His kingdom on the throne of David. If they had only known that in less than a day their King’s body would be hanging lifeless on a cross, they likely wouldn’t have had this discussion.

Jesus knew exactly what they were thinking, and He knew that dirty feet was the least of their problems. In reality it was their prideful hearts that needed cleaning. He knew that within a matter of hours two of His disciples would betray Him—one in word, and another in deed. And He knew that the way to change hearts is through an act of humility. 

Just when they thought that the issue might go unmentioned, Jesus rose, took off His robe, put a towel around His waist, and—horror of horrors—with basin in His hand, He prepared to begin the menial task. He started with Judas, His betrayer.

If things were awkward before, they were triply awkward now. Jesus, their leader, the Messiah, had taken on the role of a lowly servant.

When I was a child and there was some chore that I was supposed to do, but I either forgot or procrastinated, I would sometimes see my mother doing it, and I would feel terrible. Ashamed. Humbled. Why didn’t I do that sooner? Too late now.

I’ll bet that’s how the disciples felt. 

The disciples submitted to Jesus sheepishly, but when Jesus approached Peter, in typical Peter fashion he protested loudly: “I’m not going to let You wash my feet, Master; I should be washing Yours!” Jesus reprimanded him, saying, “Unless I wash your feet, you cannot enter the kingdom.” That’s when Peter said, “Then don’t just wash my feet, Lord; wash my whole body!” 

Isn’t it interesting that an act of humility not only has to be given in a spirit of humility but must also be received in a spirit of humility? By His act of humility Jesus immediately changed the atmosphere in the room. The disciples were now ready to hear Jesus’ final words to them.

The one heart that was not moved was Judas’. The foot washing had confirmed in Judas’ mind that he had made the right choice: this was not a King to whom he could hitch his wagon. He must have been thinking, Get up off the floor and act like a king.

After the breaking of bread and the partaking of wine, Judas got up and left the table. The disciples assumed he was going out to get some additional supplies, or to give alms to the poor, which was traditional at that time of the year. He was, after all, the treasurer, and controlled the group’s money. But Jesus knew better: Judas was going out to seal the deal that he had made to betray his Master for 30 pieces of silver.

When faced with humility, people react differently, but one thing is certain: It forces us to make a choice.

Humility Changes Things

When many hearts in the United States were indifferent toward the unfair plight of the Black population in the 1950s and 1960s, it was the recurring images on the evening news that changed their hearts. Viewers witnessed nonviolent resistance as innocent men, women, and children were being sprayed with fire hoses and tear gas. They were beaten and bitten by police dogs, but turned the other cheek. They demonstrated a godly humility that turned the hearts of many. It forced us to make a choice, and became the turning point in the American civil rights movement.

Acts of humility change hearts.

Jesus knew that the way to change hearts is through an act of humility. 

There is a story in the Bible about two brothers—twins, actually—estranged from an early age because one of them deceitfully stole something precious from the other. They went their separate ways and lived separate lives—for years. Anger and resentment stood between them; one brother filled with guilt, the other with rage. Then the day came when they had to meet. The guilty brother feared for his life, as he probably should have. He expected the worst; he knew what he deserved. But when Esau approached, rather than brandishing a sword, he fell on his brother Jacob’s neck to embrace him, and he kissed him with tears in his eyes, forgiving him. They both wept. The outcast—the one who had turned his back on God—had demonstrated forgiveness and humility to a brother designated to be a man of God.

Acts of humility change hearts.

Is there someone in your life whose feet you need to wash? And I don’t mean with a basin of water and towel; is there some simple act of humility that could change that person’s heart?

At our church we strive to demonstrate humility all the time. Our produce giveaway humbly provides nourishment to many folks who might not otherwise have something for the table. When we change the oil in a single mother’s car, that’s also a modern-day ordinance of humility.

Showing love and kindness in our single mothers’ group, giving them a community with connection—also humility.

But of course sometimes it’s much easier to show humility to complete strangers than to those we are closest to—those we love most.

Whose feet do you need to wash?

I remember my mother near the end of her life, with advanced Alzheimer’s, in her nursing home bed. She didn’t know who she was or who we were. We would visit her each evening. My father was there, watching the love of his life in a helpless state, at this point not even knowing his name. He—for so long a faithful warrior for God, a champion of faith, a lifelong leader and teacher in his church—was now questioning his faith. How could a loving God let this happen to his wife? 

He would sing their song for her—“Let Me Call You Sweetheart, I’m in Love With You.” And even though all her other memories were gone, she would join with him as they sang their love duet together.

Donna, my new wife, was adjusting to my family circle—and they were adjusting to her. Each night she would lovingly rub my mother’s feet with lotion as my dad and I sat by her bed and reminisced about old times, hoping to spark a memory. This “ordinance of humility” brought calm and comfort to my mother, but to my watching father, something different sparked in his heart. He saw the love of Jesus in this simple act of kindness and humility; it changed his view of Donna . . . and I’d like to think that it changed his view of God. 

Acts of humility change hearts.

Is there someone whose feet you need to wash? You may be thinking of them right now.

As Abraham, with trembling hand, held the knife above his beloved son Isaac, God wanted Abraham to know what the ultimate act of humility would cost Him. He would give upHis only Son on the cross. He would seeHis only Son spat upon, beaten, whipped, and, in the most degrading ritual of the day, nailed to a cross suspended between heaven and earth to die for all to see. It was the ultimate act of humility. Heaven looked down and earth lookedup to behold Him on that cross—and at that moment, hearts were changed.

What about you? Is it really asking too much to get down on your knees and wash another person’s feet? Maybe it’s a parent whose every word feels laced with judgment and criticism. Perhaps it’s a sibling who did something to you in your childhood that you can’t forgive. Maybe it’s someone who used to be your close friend, but in a moment of anger said words that you can’t forget. Maybe it’s a child who has chosen a path in life that doesn’t fit your vision for them, or even a fellow church member whom you always seem to get sideways with.

Is anger, resentment, and unforgiveness separating you from someone? Maybe it’s time to grab a basin and a towel and get down on your knees.

Or is that too much to ask?