It’s Maundy Thursday, and tonight we hear the story of the Last Supper and Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. The primary Scripture reading for this service is John 13:1-17, 31b-35.

Portions of this message are drawn from my previous Maundy Thursday (and TEC footwashing) messages, especially my 2018 Maundy Thursday sermon on footwashing. I got the idea of showing the He Gets Us foot washing advertisement from Bob Lenz at Quake

Here’s the livestream and sermon audio from the joint service at Living Hope.


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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen

Before we start talking about this story, I need to let you know that I love foot-washing. I’ve participated in foot-washing rituals on mission trips and overnight retreats, and I love both the symbolism of being washed clean and the call to humble service.

You know how some couples do a unity candle at their wedding, or a sand blessing, or something like that? Christin and I washed each other’s feet in our wedding service. Talk to me later if you want to hear my arguments for why foot washing ought to theologically qualify as a sacrament. This story is really important to me.
But at the same time, I do recognize there are some challenges in this story.

The first challenge is that the idea of washing other people’s feet just sounds strange. Some people get really grossed out by even the idea of touching feet. It’s awkward because it’s not something we really do in 21st century American culture.

It’s awkward for the disciples in the story too, but for different reasons. In Jesus’ day, washing people’s feet was a normal part of good hospitality. In a world In a world where everyone is wearing sandals and walking on dusty, unpaved roads, feet get dirty. Common politeness says when people come to your house, you wash their feet.

Of course, even though it’s normal and necessary, it’s still not a pleasant job, so the lowest ranking person present gets stuck doing it. It’s a chore for children. If there’s a servant or a slave in the house, it’s their job.

This story is awkward for the disciples not because their feet are being washed, but because of who does it. Jesus is their leader, their rabbi, their teacher, their Lord. He’s the highest ranking one in the room, and making him wash their feet would be a huge insult to him.

Peter is not ok with it. I have to wonder if he’s feeling a little guilty for not taking the initiative to start the foot washing himself, or I can imagine him being a little annoyed at the younger disciples that none of them were willing to step up and just do it. It’s not exactly clear who should be washing feet, but it’s definitely not Jesus.

This is awkward. Peter’s embarrassed, and although it sounds like he’s simply being modest (“Don’t worry about me, Lord. No need to wash my feet. I’m good.”), there’s a form of pride there. Peter thinks his feet don’t stink. He doesn’t need washing.

Until Jesus tells him bluntly, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” And then I think maybe Peter starts to figure out that there’s something greater going on here. This isn’t only about removing literal dirt from your feet. This is about forgiveness. It’s about humility, being willing to admit you need Jesus. Allowing Jesus to serve you, to wash you.

If Peter can’t accept Jesus doing this simple little courteous thing for him, how will he be able to accept what’s coming? How will he be able to accept the much greater act of forgiveness Jesus offers in his death on the cross, the ultimate humiliation and defeat?

In this awkward moment, Jesus teaches Peter that he’s not in control; he’s not all good. He needs the grace Jesus offers as much as all of us do.

In a few minutes, I’m going to invite you to participate in foot-washing as well. Again, it’s not our culture, so we’ll have hand-washing as an option too, since that’s not quite as strange for us.

But letting someone else wash you is awkward. It’s almost a form of confession, admitting that you have some dirt on you, literally or metaphorically. Perhaps there’s a connection to Ash Wednesday, where the ashes on your forehead are a public, visible reminder of your mortality, a reminder of your need for a savior.

So that’s the first challenge in this story: Admitting your feet are dirty and allowing them to be washed.

But that’s just part of the story. Jesus doesn’t stop with washing his disciples’ feet; he says in verses 14-15, “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.”

And of course you get that Jesus isn’t only saying to literally wash people’s feet, right? In verse 34, he says, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” Foot-washing is about serving one another, tangible acts of love.

The word “Maundy” in “Maundy Thursday” comes from the Latin word “mandatum” – which is the root of the English word “mandate.” Tonight’s worship service is about that final command Jesus gives to his disciples, his final mandate for them. It tells us the main thing we’re suppose do as Christians: Love one another.

How many of you watched the Super Bowl this year? Did you catch the ad about foot-washing? Take a look—this aired during the Super Bowl.

I have some mixed feeling about this ad, mostly because I don’t know how much this commercial would connect with the wider population. I suspect it’s inspiring for people who know the story, but for people who are unchurched, or less familiar with the Bible, it’s just strange. Again, foot-washing is not something we do in our culture. I also think there are fair questions to raise about whether Super Bowl commercials for Jesus are the most effective use of money. But, it’s not my money and nobody asked me how to spend it.

But all that said, I love the message they’re trying to send. There are some powerful images there. In the explanation of the ad, the creators write:

“Foot washing requires one to lower themselves, even kneel before another person. While the posture seems subservient at first, it truly represents an act of kindness and generosity that makes the actions of the foot washer noble. That was always the way of Jesus — put others first and himself last….

It was these words and actions of Jesus that inspired us. We began to imagine a world where ideological others were willing to set their differences aside and wash one another’s feet. How would that look? How would our contentious world change if we washed one another’s feet, not literally, but figuratively?

Figurative foot washing can be as simple as giving a compliment to a co-worker or paying for a stranger’s lunch. It can also be as difficult as not responding to someone who’s criticizing you or reaching out to an estranged family member. Acts of kindness done out of humility and respect for another person could be considered the equivalent of foot washing.”

How would the world change if our default posture—our first instinct—was love and service toward others?

And service not just to people like us, to people we know, but to people who seem different than us? Even our enemies? One of the most profound parts of this story to me is that Jesus washed Judas’ feet. John makes clear that Jesus knew Judas was about to betray him, to sell him out for 30 pieces of silver, and yet he chose to wash his feet.

A little later at the last supper, Jesus will even give the bread and wine to Judas. That’s a powerful example to set. That’s the kind of love we as Christians are called to, both to offer and to receive. How can that kind of love change the world?

Tonight, I pray that you will receive that love from God. Know that you are washed clean in God’s love, not only your feet or your hands if you choose to participate in that, but all of you in the waters of holy baptism. God’s love is for you.
Yes, even if there are moments in your life where you’ve been closer to Judas than to Peter.

And may God’s love revealed in Jesus Christ, revealed in foot-washing and on the cross, move you to share that love with your neighbors and everyone you meet. Amen

Maundy Thursday Footwashing | March 28, 2024
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