6 April 2023 Maundy Thursday

Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14;  Psalm 116:1-2, 11-18;  1 Corinthians 11:23-26;  John 13:1-17, 31b-35.

Think about feet.  They hold us up, they carry us, they support us.  If we put them in shoes which are ill fitting, or wear shoes past their ‘wear-out date’, it is not just our feet that suffer, but our whole body.  You see, if the feet are not properly cared for, not properly supported, they put pressure on the joints above, the ankles, knees, hips and spine, they affect the whole body.

Now consider washing those feet, especially if you have been wearing, not shoes, but open sandals.  Washing those feet which have carried the body on many kilometres of walking on hot and dusty roads.  Now consider that the person doing the washing is your leader, the person whom you look up to, the one who has been leading and guiding you on your journey; and now, this leader kneels in front of you and says ‘I am going to wash your feet’.  Going to wash your hot, dirty, calloused feet.

In early Christian days, when people were invited to a meal; after walking over dry, dirty roads; they were greeted by someone(usually a female servant) at the door with a towel, a basin, and water to wash the feet and the hands of the guests.  That person was a fundamental part of the meal, although they did not participate in it.  When Jesus wraps a towel around his waist, he shocks his disciples.  Peter wants no part of it.  But Jesus insists, ‘unless I wash you, you have no part with me’.  So Peter, in his usual exaggerated way says, ‘ok, in that case, not just my feet, but my hands and head also’.   A towel, a basin, and water; markers of the mission of the church, nothing more, nothing less.

And after the washing, Jesus and the disciples return to the table.  Share a meal together. And Jesus points out to them that they should do for others what he has just done for them, they should wash the feet of others. 

Many of us have forgotten this blessing.  We may consider it a ‘cute little Jesus gesture’ or ‘another important moment of Jesus niceness’; but we do not see it as ‘our role’.  Tonight we are invited to have our feet washed.  For some this may not be possible, physically, emotionally; so I invite you to wash the hands of others, in the same way as the ‘person at the door’ washed not just feet but the hands of the guests in early Mediterranean days.  I found this poem which gives some meaning to hand washing.

by Lucy Nanson, New Zealand:

Wash my hands on Maundy Thursday
My hands peel potatoes, wipe messes from the floor
change dirty nappies, clean the grease from pots and pans
have pointed in anger and pushed away in tears
in years past they’ve smacked a child and raised a fist
fumbled with nervousness, shaken with fear
I’ve wrung them when waiting for news to come
crushed a letter I’d rather forget
covered my mouth when I’ve been caught out
touched forbidden things, childhood memories do not grow dim
These hands have dug gardens, planted seeds
picked fruit and berries, weeded out and pruned trees
found bleeding from the rose’s thorns
dirt and blood mix together
when washed before a cup of tea
Love expressed by them
asks for your respect
in the hand-shake of warm greeting,
the gentle rubbing of a child’s bump
the caressing of a lover, the softness of a baby’s cheek
sounds of music played by them in tunes upon a flute
they’ve held a frightened teenager,
touched a father in his death
where cold skin tells the end of life has come
but not the end of love,
comforted a mother losing agility and health.
With my hands outstretched before you
I stand humbled and in awe
your gentle washing in water, the softness of the towel
symbolizing a cleansing
the servant-hood of Christ.
Wash my hands on Maundy Thursday.

Imagine the scene, our churches hearing the gospel and going out to wash the feet, or hands, of the homeless of our cities, of the refugee, of the undocumented, of the incarcerated.  In years past, and maybe even today, Pope Frances washed the feet of people in prison on Maundy Thursday, juvenile prisoners, adult prisoners, and as he washed them, he kissed them.

Maundy Thursday holds the commandment of Jesus to go wash somebody’s feet (or hands).  We are talking about a commandment, not a choice.  This washing has the potential to revamp the structures of class society; to turn upside down the value of a person’s humanity.  In the washing, we care for someone’s body, the flesh of someone who dreams, desires, hopes and lives.  As we obey the commandment to touch someone else, our washing means we care for the fullness of someone’s life.  The washing was part of the Lord’s Supper.  As we take feet, bread and wine, or hands, bread and wine, we wash, we bless, we eat.  All the senses are felt, perceived, honoured.  God fully there.  Restoring people’s humanity and honour.  Somebody fully cared for, attended, and society fully transformed.  Because it is only after the washing that Good Friday and Easter Morning will make sense.  Get prepared for real Christianity: all you need is a towel, a basin and some water.  Go and serve.