May I Wash Your Feet?

Every now and then, God reveals to me the places where I've taken the focus from Him and placed it firmly on me.  Sometimes it is a whisper like a mom humming gently to her toddler as she rocks him after a fall; other times it's a startling shout like the scream of that same mom when her sweet toddler reaches for the hot eye of a stove or decides to chase a ball into the street....not that I speak from experience.  It seems I have the kind of personality where selfishness resides comfortably despite my best efforts to oust it, so let's just say, I am probably a bit more familiar with the "hot eye" scream.  When I was in high school, I dreamed of becoming an actress, so I could be famous.  Just seeing that in print makes me want to crawl under my couch, but that would require moving all the toys I've hidden there.  (I'd like to take this time to apologize to my friends who had to put up with me), but alas, it gets worse.  I entered broadcasting to become a famous anchor.  (I apologize for telling everyone it was because I was such a great writer, which again, seriously, a great writer?)  Maybe it was growing up in a tiny town with a fear of drowning in boring anonymity.....just call me George Bailey. 

Somewhere along the way, God shifted my career focus away from me to others, and I became a teacher simply because I felt it was where my calling met my true gift and offered the most opportunity to serve.  God redirected my focus from me to Him, and I have never looked back in regret.  It seems there is no such thing as a proud servant, and Jesus clearly throughout scripture calls us to pattern our lives after his and become humble servants.

Never is Jesus's humble servant attitude more clearly illustrated than in John 13, where after eating with his disciples, "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."  So often, I think we read this and think, wow, that's nice; Jesus washed his disciples' feet.  For me, this story came to life twenty years ago at a rehearsal for my church's youth ensemble Pure Heart.  It's one of those memories where certain moments are carved in my mind like stone yet certain details fade into a hazy recollection.  What I vividly remember is our director Gloria returning to the choir room after a short absence with a tub of some kind.  She then knelt at my chair, removed my shoes, and began to wash  my feet.  I don't remember what we were singing or what prompted the moment, but I do recall rather than feeling awkward or bewildered, I felt an overwhelming sense of the Holy Spirit and began to weep.  While I realize that sweet, yet human, Gloria was the one washing my feet, I felt the presence of Christ like never before and in that moment, whatever Gloria wished to happen, for me, I understood that the King of all Creation had come to serve and it overwhelmed me in a way I cannot explain.

Looking back, I wonder what that was like for her and if I could I ever do that?  The idea of washing someone's feet is, let's admit, weird in our society.  I find it to be something like knocking on a friend's door and asking, "May I scrub your toilets?" (If any friends would like to offer that service....)  In the IVP Bible Background Commentary, Craig Keener explains that washing someone's feet was considered servile and reserved for servants or wives.  For Christ to wash his disciples feet was an expression of pure humility.  "His act violates cultural status boundaries so thoroughly that Peter finds it unthinkable."  Peter, though dense at times, I believe, grasped who Christ truly was.  Just glimpse at the description of God's throne room in Revelation for an image of just how holy and awesome He is.  He created all out of nothing.  I couldn't will my waffles not to burn this morning, yet Jesus was there when the foundations of the earth were laid and He was willing to wash the dirty feet of his disciples and pay the price for the dirty state of our souls.  If you aren't wanting to jump up and shout "hallelujah" after reading that.....

Year after year, on this first day of January, I resolve to accomplish something with a fervor that barely makes it to see which teams will even make the Super Bowl.  My resolutions are always focused on me:  lose ten pounds, get organized (you may stop laughing now), simplify. I resolve to make myself better to improve me.  The past few months I believe God has been shouting at me to beware of the stove and again the warning is once again dealing with my selfish tendency to focus on me.  I feel closest to my King when I put self aside and focus on others, so this year rather than resolve to lose the same ten pounds that seem to keep sneaking into my life every January, my resolution is to wash more feet.  That's it.  May this year be the year where I conquer my self-consciousness, self-focus, self-concern, and wash feet in love, no matter how dirty, bruised, or awkward it may be.  I close with a poem by Ruth Harms Calkin that beautiully sums up this idea of service.  When it all comes down to it, our mission is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.  With that as my new year focus, I believe everything else will fall beautifully into place.

I Wonder

 

You know, Lord, how I serve You

With a great emotional fervor

In the limelight.

You know how eagerly I speak for You

At a woman's club.

You know how I effervesce when I promote

A fellowship group.

You know my genuine enthusiasm

At a Bible study.

But how would I react, I wonder

If you pointed to a basin of water

And asked me to wash the calloused feet

Of a bent and wrinkled old woman

Day after day

Month after month

In a room where nobody saw

And nobody knew.