Sitting down and having a meal with Jesus is something all of us would like to be doing.
And it is a holy and sacred thing to be doing that.
But there is a pre-condition we cannot quite escape from…
Something that he himself did when he shared that meal the very first time.
“If I your Lord and Master have washed your feet you also … ”
So if we want to share in that meal with him we must share in the washing too.
Whose feet? And how do we go about the washing?
It is natural to think of the poor and needy and watch in meditative silence when feet are symbolically washed at the Maundy Thursday liturgical service.
There are other feet that we must wash too… not necessarily with water but with compassion and with forgiveness and with fellowship and with healing.
The feet of old parents and grand-parents living uncertainly in shadow corners of our homes, the feet of neglected children uncared for by parents who are dominating, oppressive and disrespectful , the feet of our domestic workers and employees in our work places whom we often exploit and are inconsiderate of, the feet of young people and students who come across to us as rebellious and challenging and whom we stifle with our own misplaced sense of self- importance and power… the feet of a family member or neighbour whom we resent and hate for a real or imagined wrong done to us… the feet of nature and the environment that we have exploited, devastated, destroyed to satisfy our own greed… the feet of so many others ….
When we wash the feet of others with compassion, forgiveness, concern and love, we cleanse ourselves as well… and we do that to a degree that no water or fancy detergent ever can.
“As long as you did it to the least of my brothers and sisters… you did it to me.”
It is also good to be washing our own feet as well. With compassion and forgiveness and love.
Turning back from waywardness and reclaiming the goodness living that we are always capable of.
It is a good time to be doing this… and to continue doing this.
Then, wholesome and spiritually clean, we can join the Master at his table and share in the eating with him.
He girds he stops he lifts he bends
And washes clean the feet of friends
He wipes away all weariness
With gentle hands their own distress
Now driven far themselves amazed
Like sheep returning spirits raised
And thrust in quest to challenge new
Last supper power packed with food
And drink, himself he gifts to them.
“this is my body… this my blood
I gift to you as drink and food
To others do as I to you
An anguish world refresh, renew