The washing of feet

I know that Maundy Thursday, when we remember Jesus washing his disciples’ feet, isn’t until next week, but I’m thinking about it now.

Their world was awash with disciples. Every Jewish rabbi and Greek philosopher had their students, and they were known as those who followed their master so nearly that they walked in the cloud of fine dust raised by his feet. And so, Jesus’ disciples’ feet were dusty, precisely because they were Jesus’ disciples.

The foot-washing, then, works at several different levels. It is more than skin deep. In washing their feet, Jesus affirms that these have, indeed, been his faithful followers. And yet, in washing their feet clean of the dust he has covered them with, Jesus is also indicating that, where he is now about to go, they cannot, for now at least, follow. Their journey, their active following in his footsteps, has been put on hold.

Deepest layer of all, in washing their feet, Jesus is cleansing them of their shame at not being able to follow. He is cleansing them of their shame of — despite all their protestations — failing to meet his expectations, which, it turns out, are not his expectations but theirs.

I am thinking about these things now because of a conversation with a friend. The highest authorities of the land, the highest authorities of the Church, his friends, including me, and, most importantly, his wife, have all told him to stay at home. And he has resisted, tooth and nail. Conceding defeat, he admitted to feeling not only guilty but ashamed. For to stay at home means to not be able to feed the hungry (personally, and first-hand). Our society is not caring enough, and, to fail in one’s duty to God and our neighbour to feed the hungry, is, indeed, to add to the lack of care.

I suspect that he is not alone. Indeed, I am aware that many of the physically active seventy-somethings in the Church of England are struggling under the burden of the same sense of deep shame.

I could say more about their strong sense of duty, of how it is a double-edged sword. Of how the church as they have known it simply could not continue without them; but also of those younger generations who have walked away from the church not because they no longer believe in God but because there is no room for them to take on any roles. Of how the loyal soldier that served the church well in their youth now holds the church to ransom. But none of this helps address their shame at being asked to stay home, to watch and pray and wait on the Spirit.

No, that requires a foot-washing. Not physical, of course — this, too, is suspended this year. And not a one-off either, but again and again, until they are able to take hold of their cleansing; resisting their Simon Peter zeal that, if they are to be washed, then not only their feet but also their hands and head.

For any church leader who has members of your congregation over the age of seventy, now is the time to take off your outer garment and pick up the towel.

image: Sieger Köder, Fußwaschung