You know the phrase.“That person, he doesn’t just talk about his faith; he shows it. And her? She embodies God’s
love when she cares for those who are hurting.” They don't just talk the talk; they walk the walk.
Tonight our church joined Christians of many times and
places in celebrating Maundy Thursday. This is one of those services with the
opportunity to walk: walk forward for confession and absolution, for a
footwashing, for a holy meal. The words are powerful, yes, but so are the actions. Yet each year as I experience this service, I
come away scratching my head. I leave saddened because so many choose not to
walk, but to sit and watch.
Jesus gives a new commandment about loving one another and then shows us one powerful way we can experience this, a way to practice walking the
walk by taking off our shoes and letting another pour water over our feet and
dry them with a towel. Yes it is a symbol, but the symbol works on us, perhaps a little like water over rock.
When my oldest son was a toddler, I remember him embracing
this enactment of faith; his eye’s lit up when the water fell on this feet; he
loved helping his parents wash others feet. Then, as years went on, he became
Peter; no one was going to wash his feet. Ever.
Tonight he washed feet. So did his brother. So did the other
four children in our children’s choir and a few parents. You see, tonight I was
brave, foolish perhaps. I decided months ago that the children’s choir would
help lead both Maundy Thursday and Easter Vigil worship. As part of our rehearsals, I talked about the footwashing; they
knew it was coming. So when it was time, we went downstairs. I took off my
shoes and encouraged my oldest, my “you’re not going to wash my feet” son to
pour the water. His “helper” personality emerged and there we were, washing
feet. We were no longer parent and child; we were children of God doing unto one another, serving one another.
I wish I could stop here and revel in the Spirit’s work.
And, at the end of the day, I do end up back at this place, a place of awe and
gratitude for the courage, wonder, and innocence of these children and a few
brave adults. I will now hear the Taize “Ubi Caritias” mingled with the voices of children
as they, like trying on a pair of new shoes, tried this ritual on, many for the
first time.
I wish I didn't feel dismay and bewilderment at so many who choose not to experience the foot washing; I know it is an invitation, not a compulsion. Jesus doesn’t command us to wash feet; he commands us to
love one another. I know that those who don’t wash feet still show tremendous
love for their neighbors in ways known and unknown, seen and unseen.
Those children, they have so much to teach us. Having a childlike faith
involves our whole selves: we are more than minds and hearts; we are bodies,
beautiful bodies made in the image of God. Our feet may have walked difficult
roads; they may be callused and blistered, cracked and malformed. But oh, how
beautiful are the feet of those who bring peace and good news!
