The LCA provides this sermon edited for lay-reading, with thanks to the original author.

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

Props needed: jug of water and a baptismal font

Dear heavenly Father, send your Holy Spirit on us so that we may follow the loving servant example of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Imagine the scene…

You’re going to the most important meal of the whole year. It’s more important than any 21st or 60th birthday party, any wedding, or celebrity fundraiser. The meal is the Passover – the most important meal of the Jewish religious calendar.

Obviously, for such a special occasion, you’d dress up appropriately. You wouldn’t wear your gardening clothes or your track pants to this meal. You’d put on make-up, but not too much. You’d make sure you’re clean and tidy, and perhaps wear some perfume or cologne, and then walk to the Passover meal.

This is where the complication begins. You see, you’d be walking on dusty roads either barefoot or wearing thin sandals. Despite your best efforts to arrive clean, your cracked and calloused feet would be dusty and grimy from dirt and sweat.

As you enter the house, you look around for some water to wash your feet, or a servant to wash them for you, but in this case, there’s no water and no slave. You were hoping a slave would be here to wash your feet, but there isn’t. In fact, this task of washing feet was such a degrading act that this task was only reserved for Gentile slaves. A good Jewish slave would never want to stoop down and wash another person’s feet – it’s too degrading.

Of course, one of you could go and fetch some water to wash your feet, but everyone’s hoping someone else will do it. None of you want to act like a slave. So you all sit at the table with dirty feet. But, unlike our meal tables where your feet go under the table, in this case you recline at the meal table with your face and hands near the food, while your disgusting looking and smelling feet would be as far away from the food as possible.

Like many special meal times, everyone’s trying to get the host’s attention and make out they’re the most important or impressive person at the table. You try to impress each other with your jokes, your intellect, your style, or your loudness. A common argument breaks out again – who is the greatest among you? But, before you know it, your host has left the table and your hear running water splashing into a bowl…µ (each time µ appears, pour some water from a jug into the baptismal font)

You turn toward the noise and you see your host, Jesus, pouring water, with a towel around his waist. µ

Hang on! Only slaves do this – and Gentile slaves at that! This is a job for a slave, not the host! The room is silent except for the pouring water µ and the quiet movements of Jesus. As your eyes look down at your feet, your face flushes with shame. Perhaps you should have grabbed some water and done this demeaning task, but your pride had stopped you. Now your Lord, the teacher you’ve been following for so many years, has to stoop down at your dirty feet and wash them.

Jesus kneels at Matthew’s feet, and washes them. He next moves to Andrew’s feet and washes them with the water, gently massaging his tired feet with the towel. Bartholomew is next to receive Jesus’ washing. One by one Jesus washes the dirt, the dust, and the grime from their tired feet, wiping them dry with his towel. James, John, Thomas. One by one they feel ashamed he needed to do this demeaning act on them because they thought themselves above such a lowly task. Philip, Nathanael, you, then Peter.

For Peter this was too much. How could he let his Lord wash his feet? He could wash his own feet, or at least see if someone else would do it, but not Jesus! No, Jesus should not be doing this demeaning thing! Peter would rather honour Jesus than let him do this. He would rather do something for Jesus than have Jesus do something for him. He wasn’t yet willing to admit Jesus had to do everything for him. There was no other way. That’s why he came.

So Jesus insists, saying unless Jesus washes him he’ll have no part of him. So Peter goes to the other extreme. He never could be just like everyone else. He had to be different. “In this case Jesus, wash all of me, not just my dirty feet.” Yet a clean person only has to have their dirty feet washed. Peter’s already clean except for his feet. Just a splash of water and the act would be complete…µ

You may not remember it, but you’ve probably seen it done to others often. A splash of water. µ The holy name of God spoken with that water. And Jesus kneels to wash away the dirt and grime of sin from a person. In this holy act, Jesus comes time and again as a slave to wash us clean. Jesus says, “If I wash you, you will be clean”. In our baptism, Jesus washes us and we now become a part of Jesus – made clean, pure and holy, joined to Jesus. He did it all. There was no other way. He had to do everything for us. That’s why he came.

Through our baptism we receive all the benefits of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. It’s not just a washing, but a joining to Jesus and all his benefits. It’s a reception of his life and death. It’s a new birth into eternal life in his kingdom.

But life in his kingdom, with all its heavenly privileges comes with responsibility and service. In this act of washing, Jesus was preparing his disciples for service. The greatest becomes the least. The Lord becomes the slave. The host becomes the servant.

Jesus’ action of washing was a living example of this service that extended all the way to the cross. But he reinforces this teaching of servant-hood and humbleness when he says “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (Jn 13:34-35)

Jesus had just demonstrated his love for them by his humble and demeaning act of service. That’s the kind of love he’s talking about. The kind of love that swallows pride. The kind of love that gets down on its knees in service. The kind of love that washes dirty and unattractive feet. The kind of love that insists for the sake of the person being served. The kind of love that would shame our selfishness. The kind of love that would even put its life on the line for unworthy sinners.

As we become part of Jesus and as we’ve received his love, we’re to love in the same manner. Rather than hoping someone else is going to serve, the love of Jesus acts. Rather than thinking oneself above an act, the love of Jesus would stoop down and work. The love of Jesus is willing to sacrifice itself for selfish, stubborn, recalcitrant, proud, and cantankerous people like you and me.

Here, as we gather as one family around the table, Jesus comes to serve us and wash us clean by his holy and innocent blood. He stooped down from above and willingly went to the shameful cross so we don’t have to. He came to serve and equips us for service. It has to be this way. This is why he came. He loves us, so we in turn can love those around us.

µThe sound of water reminds us of Jesus’ service to those around him, but it should also remind us how we’ve been equipped to serve and love in like manner. Brothers and sisters, washed clean by Christ, let us love one another as Christ loves us. µ

The peace of God, which surpasses all human understanding, guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.

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