All for love…
The older I get, the more I wonder at Paul’s amazing words about love: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” These words fly in the face of accepted urban wisdom these days which insistently declares you can only love others if you love yourself first.
This certainly is not what Jesus modeled and everything he did showed how “others conscious” he was. The account of our Lord humbling himself to wash the dusty feet of ordinary men is a picture that moves me, over and over again. Some see this story as the institution of a ceremony we should all practise to demonstrate humility, but it seems to me that like so many things our Lord did, it was about a deeper, more difficult principle.
Everything our Lord did was like this – there was always a second layer of truth. For 3 years he had walked everywhere with them, so there must have been many times when their feet could all have been done with a good wash. Why then did he choose this moment to deliberately strip himself and in utter humility, almost naked, wash their feet? The feet of those closest to me I have washed gladly but have only participated in something like this as a sacred ceremony on a couple of occasions. Each time it was a profoundly uncomfortable experience. I discovered that washing the feet of others was relatively easy, but having my feet washed humbled me to the point of tears. So we learn about ourselves…
In my spirit I am in that room, and I see our Lord Jesus not just looking down at a pair of feet. No. I see him quietly look up into each face, his eyes piercing in their search for the truth of the man whose dust-dirty feet he begins to wash, knowing this is the last chance he has for a difficult but necessary lesson in servanthood. Implicit in this act is his acceptance of each disciple for who they are, and so, he even washes the feet of his soon-to-be betrayer. Each disciple is given the opportunity to see himself as the Master sees him before he goes to the cross, driven by the “others consciousness” of divine love.
Later, much later, as the disciples looked up at the now totally naked and humiliated God-man on the cross, what did each remember of what was revealed when their Lord looked up into their eyes that night? Did each marvel over his love? Were they moved by his compassion? Did they grasp his condescension?
The late Dottie Rambo penned these beautiful words that I love to sing:
“I shall forever lift my eyes to Calvary
To view the cross where Jesus died for me
How marvelous the Grace that caught my falling soul
He looked beyond my fault and saw my need.”
