Washed any feet lately?
Other than my own, I haven't either.
Amazingly, that's what Jesus did for His disciples on this day just over 2000 years ago. Last night in the journaling class, Bonnie read two beautiful, thoughtful pieces about that act of humility and love that Jesus displayed. One was called "God in an apron." What a title. What an image. God in an apron, at the dusty, dirty feet of His fickle followers, towel wrapped around His waist, wiping, rinsing, drying off.
Inconceivable. Unfathomable. Unimaginable.
Tonight as we celebrated Communion together around our kitchen counter, one of us (who shall remain nameless), declared the inability, the unwillingness to wash the feet of anyone else in our family. I understand that reluctance. I didn't force the issue with said resister.
But God did it; Jesus did it. He washed the feet of the one who would betray Him, the one who would deny Him, and the rest of them - all of whom would run away when He was being arrested. If I am honest, I must admit that I have denied Him more than Peter's recorded three times, betrayed Him for far less than Judas' thirty pieces of silver, and run away from Him far more often than I have stood with Him and those who love Him.
I've spent some time over these weeks of Lent pondering the events that are most crucially important to my faith.
Darkness. Loneliness. Anguished prayer in lonely places.
Fear. Abandonment. Restoration. Reconciliation.
Prophecy. Denial. Forgiveness.
Death. Burial. Resurrection.
Not nearly enough time - I always wish for more time to dedicate to my ponderings,
but this is my life. These are the days of my life. Full. Busy. Demanding.
But I remember that I cannot forget what forgiveness, peace, and reconciliation cost me.
I set aside time to ponder it, to read about it, to journal about it.
In his book entitled, Between the Dreaming and the Coming True,
Robert Benson penned a most eloquent reminder of the need to set time aside
to think about, pray about, and be fully present and attentive to these sacred days of our Christian calendar:
"If we observe Advent at the mall,
spend the night of the Nativity building tricycles,
kick off Lent with a ski trip, spend Easter at the beach,
we are not likely to come face-to-face with the One Who Comes.
If we take the Eucharist once a year,
give God some directives and pointers for five minutes a day and call it prayer,
and do none of the things that the faithful who traveled this road before us would remind us to do,
then we are likely to only talk to God and never hear a response."