Footwashing

“Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him…When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” – John 13:3-5;12-14

Just yesterday I was wondering how differently we behold the Lord’s supper and the footwashing. Both were instituted on Jesus’ last night. Both were commanded by our Lord – in John he tells them 3 times to wash each others’ feet and in Luke he tells them once to take the cup and once to take the bread in remembrance of him. Even with Paul’s echo about Eucharist, that’s still only equal to the number of times Jesus told his disciples to wash each other’s feet. So why do churches the world over celebrate the Eucharist as a sacrament on a regular basis, while foot washing is so rare? I want to say that it is because food is universal and footwashing was context-specific, but if I’m honest, I think it is easier to share a meal than the messy areas of our lives.

We’ve been blessed these months to share fellowship with some great communities of believers. At our mission home, we share prayer requests and food. At our Bible study, we even discuss how we can live in closer communion with each other, meeting the needs of one another. We began by talking about our own needs, but ended by listing what we were able to do for others. That is much less vulnerable. I though to myself how my house was getting messy, so messy that I was planning to hire a maid to help clean it before we moved out. I wasn’t proud of the mess, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get on top of it. I even woke up at 5 am one morning when my father planned a visit, and cleaned for an hour beforehand, and I still felt like he was disappointed in the mess. I mentioned to two of the ladies that house cleaning could be a real need for me, but within an hour I firmly decided that the maid was a better way to go. We had a bit of money now, anyway, and I really didn’t want anyone to see the caked-on grime in the kitchen and bathroom.

Our friends visited yesterday. Friends who were our neighbors and mentors, who we love talking and laughing with. They taught us how to live in Malawi, and we would share fresh-baked bread and pastries and go on trips together. I would come over when she was sick and she would listen when we were having life crises and he would offer Greg advice on teaching. We love seeing the. And I cleaned up the house before they came, Greg tidied up too. But I was still a bit embarrassed that it wasn’t perfect. But when I came home yesterday, after they left, the house was perfect. The kitchen sparkled, the bathroom gleamed, and everything was organized, even my teas and condiments. Greg said that he and his friend walked and talked while she cleaned the house. “I love cleaning” she exclaimed. I was embarrassed. She saw and emptied my bathroom trash can, my teacup with weeks of stains piled up from cup after cup of tea, and she somehow got the crusted grime out of the stove. She scrubbed the toilet and bath and handled the pajamas I draped over the chair as I rushed out to work. If we had any secrets from this couple before, I definitely had none now. But when I walked home, I felt like I had a fresh start in life, I felt like I could breathe in my own space, and I felt so loved.

I think that is modern foot-washing. Both the vulnerability to let other people in and the willingness to reach into the messy dirtiness of others. If only we as a people of God could do that in remembrance of Jesus just as often as we take the Lord’s supper. Oh what a people we would be.

Shaking the Dust off

“If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, leave that home or town and shake the dust off your feet.” - Matthew 10:14

The speaker at the physician conference was talking about how impressionable young people can be. “If you told me that my talk was horrible, I might feel bad, but I’d get over it in a few hours. If you told a teenager that their work was terrible, they might be devastated for days or weeks.” The concept of resilience coming with experience seemed foreign to me at first. I still so very much dread rejection. And when I feel like someone hasn’t accepted me, that can stick with me. I still the teacher who gave me a B. Never mind that it was twenty years ago now, in junior-high PE, or all the things that I’ve achieved since then, even with the sting dulled from time, I remember.

I’ve been learning a lot lately, growing. I’ve always struggled with the part of the Lord’s prayer, “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” There are some errors that I haven’t forgiven myself for after decades, and clearly some injuries that I still nurse in that time. If I want to life this life Christ set before me, if I want to experience God’s love and redemption, I’m going to have to learn to truly let go of my own failures, and let the trespasses of others float away as well.

This time of travel and fundraising is a particularly vulnerable time. People welcome us into their homes, shower us with love, listen to our passion and share their lives with us. With some reunions after all these years, there is pain that we have grown so far apart. With others, there is joy that we have grown closer even though we’ve been on different sides of the world. When people invest in us and our ministry, it feels like such a precious gift, the beginning of a beautiful partnership, a blessing from God. But when people are not in a place to support us, sometimes that feels like a rejection that clings to us.

I’m impressed by Jesus’s direction to shake the dust off the feet of disciples who have had a bad reception. Instead, when I trudge through difficult times, I feel like I carry that as a burden on my back, or as mud caked around my shoes. It creates a sucking sound and holds me down with each step, adding to dejection. I want to think of it as dust instead. And not the kind that can get into my eyes or clog up my lungs, but a fleeting dust that slips from my feet, drops to the ground, and doesn’t trouble me anymore. Because I have so very far to go. And Jesus has covered my inadequacies and shame. Why should I keep going forward with fear of rejection and memories of failure?

David's Struggles

“Perseverance isn’t a lot of fun. Yet it is perseverance that allows God to take our muddled messes and turn them into miracles. He delights in transforming the black-carbon pressures of our life into diamonds of radiant beauty. But doing all that requires a process. A Process that takes time. A process that is sometimes painful.” – Joanna Weaver, Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World

I’ve been reflecting on David a lot lately. Shocking, I’m sure, being that I’m doing an in-depth Bible study on his life as I’m simultaneously trying to read through the Psalms. But it’s interesting how many sermons and books reference him – especially his high points like Goliath and Kingdom-building. The pastors always tell us about how confidently he faced lion, bear, and giant, and how we should seize upon God’s promises as well to enter into the life He has in store for us. Why is it so easy for us to forget how David was almost pinned to the wall twice by a crazy king? How he, the leader of Israel’s army, was so hunted by Israel’s king that he defected to the army of his worst enemy? He had to send his parents to Moab, his wife was given to another man, he hardly saw his best friend. A whole clan of priests was annihilated for giving him a bit of bread. He lived for years with the promise that he would be king, but all the while living like a bandit, gathering unsavory men to himself and trying to make it. I’d like to see a “Take hold of God’s promises for your life” book written with that part of David’s story in mind. Sure, God makes his plans clear sometimes and sometimes delivers in dramatic, miraculous ways. But how much more often is God’s will worked out by the journey – the forming and shaping of our inner selves during the times of struggle, isolation, and wilderness. The ruddy lion-slaying shepherd of a youth was God’s chosen king, but the hardened desert-leader waiting patiently for God’s timing was the one who was so much after God’s heart, whose line would be established forever. We talk about the Christian walk, the blessings God brings into our lives. Yes, we are certain that God works all things for good and that the best is yet to come. But we need to remember that this walk is often an arduous, lonely climb, with thorns and lions on the prowl and earthly powers constantly in opposition. We’re never alone, God provides everything we need for the journey, but we just need to remember that He never promised us it would be a bed of roses on this side of eternity. “For by You I can run against a troop, by my God I can leap over a wall. As for God, His way is perfect. The way of the Lord is proven; He is a shield to all who trust in Him.” – Psalm 18:29-30