Grace poured out John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Just some thoughts on Maundy (Latin: Mandate. "I give you a new command" - mandate - "that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.") Thursday.

 

Tonight at 7:00, St. Luke's will have a Maundy Thursday worship service. Foot-washing will be part of that service. I think it only honest to share some of my feelings about this "ritual."

 

I, personally, am far more comfortable being the one washing others' feet, rather than having others wash my feet. At its root, this reveals my personal desire to be in control. To be able to control for how much water to pour, how hard to scrub (or not), that sort of thing.

Having someone else wash my feet, means that I am at their disposal. Allowing them to hold my filthiest part...so vulnerable. You'd be amazed how often people will say to me: "I wish you had told me we were doing a foot washing, I would have had a manicure, scrubbed my bunions, clipped my toenails, or whatever." And so, they won't come forward and receive this blessing (actually, it should be considered a sacrament. Jesus said "do it."). I'm serious! Pretty up your feet??? Kind of defeats the purpose, you know? Not that I'm not self-conscious of my ugly runner/dancer's feet. But, they are what they are. And I got them by being who I am.

I think my need for control limits the way I receive grace. If I want to control how grace is poured over me, how much, when, how, where and only when I've prettied my life (feet) up...then it's not really grace. Make sense?

My most dramatic reception of grace - or the one I am most aware of - came when my life was literally falling apart around me, and quite publically. Grace flowed over me and over me and over me (through friends and family and strangers - who held me up, by holding my hand and my heart, until i was strong enough to get my feet under me). And I was just too exhausted to fight back. I, who could appear "together" in just about any situation, was exposed as completely "not together." And in my weakness, God's grace showed forth most clearly. It literally carried me through. Poured over me in ways I had never imagined. Splashing and spilling and sinking into the crevices of my messed-up life. Drowning what needed to die and watering what needed new life. In that death, God began moving me toward resurrection.

I will have my feet washed tonight (I hope you will, too). I will not be completely comfortable with it. But I will do it, so that I may have a "share in Jesus," so that I may live in his grace poured out, in hopes of sharing that grace with others.

 

Peace ~