Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So 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. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
My sermon from Maundy Thursday (April 14, 2022) on John 13:1-17, 31b-35.
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Last Sunday when we gathered – either at home or in this building – to wave palms, pray, sing, and assemble a wooden cross, we used the sights and sounds of worship to find ourselves in Jesus’ story. We sat with Jesus’ experience rather than focusing on me trying to explain some tiny detail of what Jesus’ life and death was all about. And that’s because worship isn’t always designed to feed what’s in our heads. Worship is also an experience showing us who God is. But the experience of worship isn’t always perfect and not everything we do tonight is going to generate an emotional response that recharges our souls. Instead, there’s going to be moments when the the growl of a throat being cleared and the awkward silence that comes while waiting for me to finish whatever I need to do up at the altar is going to be anything but spiritually uplifting. The boring moments in worship can sometimes feel as if they’re a little off because the experience of God’s love should feel like God’s love. But what if worship tonight isn’t only about those moments that are full of all kinds of feelings like what the disciples felt when Jesus washed their feet. What if this moment can also be about everything else that happened in that space, including when Jesus stood up and poured some water?
Now our passage tonight from the gospel according to John is one we listen to every Maundy Thursday. This is John’s version of the Last Supper and it’s one that makes us really uncomfortable. Jesus, while in the middle of a dinner party, interrupted everything so that he could wash the feet of his disciples. That image might stir up within you all kinds of feelings. For some of us, the act feels sensual and passionate. For others, it completely grosses us out and we’re excited we won’t be doing any foot washing during tonight’s worship. Worship might not be where we want someone to wash our toes. But there’s something about the energy and vibe from even the image of feet being washed that energizes what this moment might be all about. If John had simply said that “Jesus washed their feet,” those four words would have been enough for us to seek out an over-the-top moment with our God. But John did more than simply name what Jesus did. He described, in detail, every move Jesus made. While everyone was eating and talking about what they expected to see in Jerusalem, Jesus got up. He began, I think, to move around the room, unnoticed by most of the disciples since they were busy munching and drinking and talking. As he walked, Jesus took off his outer robe and found a towel to tie around his waist. Then he went to find a basin, which might have been the moment when the room grew quiet. The disciples watched as he moved about, possibly heading towards the front door where a basin sat on the floor. By the time he found a pitcher full of water, everyone was silent. He then tilted the pitcher until water poured out.
It’s not easy trying to put into words what the pouring of is like. There’s this moment, in the beginning, when it looks as if the water is refusing to come out no matter how far we tilt the pitcher. We, due to our vast experience of spilling and making a mess, tilt the pitcher ever so gently until gravity takes over. Then, when the water flows, the splash as it hits the basin rings out. The sound seems to echo and shimmer and resemble a small wave breaking onto a beach made of glass. As the water falls, it swirls back and forth, absorbing the attention of everyone in the room. Those who see it and hear it can’t help but turn their heads to look. Once the pouring is done, the pitcher is put aside and the water in the basin becomes perfectly still. Yet that stillness is anything but empty because the act of pouring also serves as an invitation to witness whatever comes next. The water in the basin might simply be used to wash our face. But it could also be used to wash and connect us, through baptism, into the body of Christ. Now on the night when Jesus poured the water, it wasn’t the first time the disciples had heard or felt it. When they first entered the home where the dinner took place, someone who was most likely enslaved, took off their shoes and poured water over their toes. This initial intimate act of having their feet washed probably didn’t feel very out of the ordinary because it was common for the person with the lowest social status in the household to clean the grime off the feet of people moving through a city without paved roads or indoor plumbing. Feet, in the ancient world, were cross and it was their custom for guests to leave the grime on their toes outside. Feet were washed as a sign of respect for the host but it wasn’t the host who did the washing. The disciples might not have even noticed how the sound of water absorbed their attention when they first came to eat with Jesus. But when Jesus poured that water, every disciple suddenly realized what Jesus was about to do.
In a little bit, we will be invited to listen and feel the pouring of water. I will stand by the communion rail to pour a tiny bit of water into a silver basin. The water will come out of the pitcher we use during baptisms and you will be invited to come forward or to prepare your own basin and pitcher at home. I’ll then continue to fill the basin by pouring water gently over your hands. This washing will not be like the washing of hands by Pontius Pilate nor an invitation for us to imagine we’re washing away the grime from the fullness of our story. Rather, the water we pour is a reminder of who, in baptism, first washed us. The sound of the water and its texture is a tangible connection to the one who has already claimed you as his own. This small experience will bring us into Jesus’ experience – an experience where he looked around the room on the night when was betrayed at people who needed to know love would win. Jesus could have chosen, at that moment, to wash his hands of the one who would hand him over to the authorities or the one who would deny him or even those who would flee from him in fear. Yet Jesus saw them all – and chose to wash their feet. It wasn’t the washing that showed the kind of love he had for them. It was the fact that he was already there and how, in the pouring of water and in the pouring out of his life, they would see what love could do.
Amen.