“After he had said this, Jesus was troubled in spirit and testified, ‘Very truly I tell you, one of you is going to betray me.’
His disciples stared at one another, at a loss to know which of them he meant. One of them, the disciple whom Jesus loved, was reclining next to him. Simon Peter motioned to this disciple and said, ‘Ask him which one he means.’
Leaning back against Jesus, he asked him, ‘Lord, who is it?’”
John 13:21-25 (NIV)
In the ancient world, foot washing was the job reserved for the lowest servant in the household. Just picture it. The roads were unpaved and dusty. Sandals were basically ancient Birkenstocks. And everyone was unclean—both metaphorically and literally.
And yet here is Jesus—the one the disciples call Lord—on the floor with a basin and towel.
Peter protests immediately. Of course he does. The whole scene feels wrong. Teachers are not supposed to wash the feet of their students. And certainly not the feet of the ones who will betray, deny, and abandon him before the night is over.
But Jesus insists.
Because this is the shape of the kingdom of God. This upside-down world where the king of the universe kneels. Love stoops low enough to touch the dirtiest parts of our lives. Where grace shows up ready to serve.
Later that evening Jesus breaks bread and shares wine, telling his friends that this meal will become a remembrance: his body given, his blood poured out.
And then he gives them a commandment.
Love one another.
Which sounds simple until you realize what it requires: loving people who misunderstand you, disappoint you, leave you, or hurt you. Loving in the way Jesus loves—kneeling, serving, giving everything.
Maundy Thursday reminds us that God meets us in our vulnerability—in shared meals, in small acts of service, and in the fragile, stubborn work of loving one another even when we don’t fully understand what it might cost us.
We don’t know it, Jesus,
but you will feed us, wash us,
serve us, save us.
And we will do our best to set you aside.
But this is your great stubbornness:
how you give us what we need, even as we
refuse it.
(From Have a Beautiful, Terrible Day!)
If you imagine yourself at the table with Jesus that night, who are you in the story? The one asking questions, the one unsure, the one being served?
I just want to comment and say that I love all the artwork that was chosen to be included with these writings. Some very powerful images, to be sure. I intend to find copies of a few of them to use in our home.
If I were with them for that meal
I know the role that I would play;
I ape faith I won't live as real
and thus betray Him every day.
He says to love the least of these,
and not to make a prideful splash,
but I have always tried to please
the ones who have the bling and cash.
He says to love my enemy,
embrace the one who'd do me harms,
but I stand on my dignity,
bearing hate and bearing arms,
and to the lowly I won't speak
while claiming that it's Christ I seek.