Foot-washing people
Thumbnail Image by Brigitte Werner from Pixabay
Edie Wakevainen
St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Ferndale
March 28, 2024—Maundy Thursday
Reenactment means performing a new version of an old event, to keep the old story alive. It only works if all of the important elements of the original version are present in the new one.
Reenactment is an important piece of the Maundy Thursday liturgy.
We know that in Jesus’ time, people and animals shared the dirt roads and animals left steamy piles of poop behind as they walked. Sandals were the typical footwear, so everyone had filthy feet after being outside. Before you entered a dwelling—your own or someone else’s—you had to get that road nastiness off your feet. But you didn’t do it yourself! The social norms of the day relegated foot washing to servants. When someone came to the door, the servant would put a towel around their waist, take a basin of water, and carefully wash all of the road mess from the person’s feet.
I’ve probably attended Maundy Thursday foot washing services at least 50 times in my life. I can imagine what I will see when I open the church door: A couple of chairs near the altar, with plastic wash basins, clean folded white towels, and pitchers of warm water nearby. Everything a group of 21st-century worshippers needs to go through the motions of foot washing. But here’s the thing. There are no feet that need to be washed. In fact, some in the congregation had just gotten pedicures, so their feet would look and feel perfect. Others are silently repeating an inner monologue: “Not me. No way. I’m not letting anyone touch MY feet. That’s gross.” The participants are not motivated to participate, and there is absolutely no filth to be washed away. With key elements of the original event missing, is this reenactment destined to fail?
Filthy feet need to be washed. People with filthy feet want to have their feet washed. Without the filth, the reenactment does not work—at least it never has for me.
Consider an alternative.
This time as I open the church door, I can’t believe my eyes or my nose. The flooring in the vestibule and the carpet in the sanctuary are covered with plastic. Excrement from all types of animals—horses, donkeys, oxen, camels, sheep—is spread on the plastic and liberally sprinkled with dirt and dust. Our church floors have been transformed into roads from the time of Jesus!
A sign directs me to leave my shoes and socks in a basket before walking down the oh-so-fragrant road to my seat. There’s no escaping it. Disturbing tactile sensations join the horrible sights and nauseating smells. Imagine the condition of my feet when I sit down. They are covered with dust and poop. Filthy feet! Stinky feet! I can’t escape the sensations. All I can think is: Get it off!
The filth makes the Maundy Thursday scenario real. Instead of a reluctant few going forward for the re-enactment, we are jockeying for position in the line to get that disgustingness washed off! The need and motivation for foot washing are real. We get it. We feel what the disciples felt. And we serve each other by washing and drying each other’s feet.
In this more realistic reenactment, we eagerly do what Jesus showed us in the lesson. With no servant present to wash the disciples’ feet, Jesus jumped up, picked up the towel and did that dirty job himself.
Jesus wanted to teach the disciples—and us—about responsibility. Jesus didn’t wait for a servant to do the washing. He saw the need, those filthy feet, and he did what needed to be done to meet the need. He expects us to do the same. He expects us to follow his example. No one is too important to serve their fellow humans.
We can be on the lookout for needs great and small and take responsibility for meeting them. It’s simple: See something. Do something. Don’t wait for someone else to meet the need. Don’t look away from uncomfortable situations. That may be the most difficult one. After all, if we hesitate to wash the clean feet of a fellow parishioner, how willing are we going to be to help a stranger in a precarious position?
As we walk into the Easter season, may we be intentional about taking responsibility. With eyes open to the needs of all of God’s children, and hearts and minds primed to respond in action, may we welcome the filthy feet. And may our experiences serving others form us into a community of foot washing people. People who DO.