Feet & Family... Reflection from Holy Week #2

The Maundy Thursday service, a service which emulates the act of Jesus having washed the disciples feet before the last supper, touched me more than any previous year. I had been asked a few minutes before the service to wash the feet of those in attendance, and felt a bit nervous about this since I'd never done it before... but as I washed feet, I felt this sense of overwhelming love and intimacy. It was as if I got a minuscule glimpse into the love Jesus had for his followers, and I felt a love for them as well, sensing this sort of adoptive family of the Body of Christ.

The first lady whose feet I washed had lovely shimmery red nail polish, and well cared for feet. I whispered to her that I "liked her toes" trying to be brief but meaning the nail polish. I felt awkward at her response. She said "Thanks! I had them done for tonight."

It made me realize how insecure we all are... That we want to be known for our best elements, to be seen as the best of who we are, not for our worst. Yet, there weren't nail salons in Jesus' day. The people whose feet He washed were disgusting, dirty, sweaty, and smelly. They couldn't have prepared beforehand, to be sure and have nice clean feet to be "washed" by Jesus. Yet, even having had a pedicure a month or two beforehand, I felt a bit embarrassed having my feet washed because my toe nail polish was messed up and my feet were not in great condition. I'd been walking around all day and wearing what became kind of gross socks.

Yet, I had my feet washed too. And no one (so far anyways!) has told me of terrible things that came of my dirty, unattractive feet.

I think sometimes - well, who I am kidding... probably always - we're afraid to show that "bad part" of ourselves and live in a shame, to varying degrees, for not being who we think we ought to be. And what's worse, is rather than accepting forgiveness or being willing to "be washed", we opt to betray God or think that betrayal is what we are due. No, no, no. God wants to wash us clean - clean not just of dirt, but of shame.


At the end of the service, we prayed the following prayer:

"Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who lives and reigns for ever and ever. Amen."

The portion that particularly struck me was the line that I bolded. My mother-in-law was visiting and therefore attending the service with my husband, as well as my own mother. Somehow they ended up in the other line to have their feet washed, but I thought of them as I washed the feet of parishioners of our church. I felt surprisingly joyful once I began to do this, though I was rather anxious at first not knowing which towel was for which purpose, or how much water to put on them... how or where to hold the feet, how to know when I was "done".

And I began to think of the power of doing this. Of being on my knees, of physically serving, of being "lesser than"... and how supremely joyful I felt, somewhat to my surprise. I looked up and caught my husband's eye, and then smiled at him and my mother-in-law. They are now my family. My husband and I have formed our own chosen family and remain intrinsicly connected to the families in which we were raised - not by choice but by divine determination. And this, the literal family both chosen and not chosen, the family of the parish of my church - people whom I may know well, may like or dislike, or may not even know...

This is the family for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed.

He chose to be betrayed, and despite it all, He loved us.

Therefore, who am I to hold things against another? Perhaps I ought to stick to washing feet instead.