Sermon for Maundy Thursday

Sermon for Maundy Thursday 2010

St Mary’s Church, Handsworth

We live in an age where the body means everything. Glamour, beauty and fashion rule the lives of many people, young and old. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that we are obsessed with our bodies. You only have to look as far as a magazine to see which celebrity has put on a stone, or who is wearing the latest or most fashionable shoes. Of course, what we see is a fake image of who the person really is. The make up and clothes cover up their imperfections. I wonder how many of us get caught up in that. I certainly do.

So when Jesus washes the feet of his disciples, as we recall it yearly, Jesus wasn’t just fulfilling the task of the lowest person at the feast, but he was also embarrassing his disciples. Actually, the reaction of some people when Fr Keith was finding 12 people to have their feet washed was one of embarrassment, joke and sort of ‘not serious.’ Even I joked that even Fr Keith wouldn’t want to wash my feet. Of course, if someone next week offered to wash your feet, you’d probably say no! What must the world think of the Jews and us Christians, washing feet and drying them with a towel? This is a rather strange act of invading someone else’s personal space and touching an important part of their body and in some cases, a rather embarrassing part of the body.

Well, what the world thinks is probably similar to what Peter was thinking. ‘Lord, you shall never wash my feet… wash not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well!’ (John 13: 9). To the Jews, this wasn’t just washing feet, however nice that may sound. To not wash your feet for a long period of time is seen as a sign of deep mourning. Feet were usually washed before meals, a bit like wiping your shoes on the mat at a guest’s house. The person who washes your feet is invited into your life, he invades your personal space, he touches you and he lowers himself before you. There’s almost a beauty about this somewhat dirty task – can you imagine the Son of God on his knees, before you? Offering to wash your feet, surely we should be washing his. No part of ourselves can be left out when he is before us, washing our feet. Our whole life is quite literally brought before him. There is that wonderful scene in The Shack where Papa (the Father) has spilt the batter she had made. Jesus went straight to Papa and kneeling, cleaned Papa’s feet. Mack asks “so this was God in relationship? It was beautiful and so appealing” (pg 105).

The world looks on and sees a man who wants to be fully involved within the lives of his children, even to the extent of washing their feet. They turn their face away from a man who doesn’t want to seek celebrity status or fame. He could have easily done so on Palm Sunday, he had their attention, their praises and their song! The world looks on and sees followers of Christ washing the feet of those who believe today who glad they are lowering themselves, pleased to be the servant of the Servant King. The world looks on and believes that they are too good to have their feet washed, maybe because of the embarrassment and shame of being exposed before Christ. The world seeks power, it’s not natural for us to want to give up our status or lower ourselves even to wash the feet of those we love, even to be humble is seen as a failure.

A good parent would do anything for their child. And actually, good children would do anything for the parents. God is the perfect Father. The relationship between God and his children is clearly illustrated, probably, one of the best illustrations of God’s relationship with us, in The Shack. Of course, the best image of the relationship between God and his children, is so clearly displayed in the life of Jesus.

As if he were not humble enough, Jesus chooses to wash the feet of those he loved. ‘Having loved his own who were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love’ (John 13: 1b). A little later in the chapter, Jesus leaves the disciples with the Great Commandments, to love one another as I have loved you. If Jesus loves enough by washing our feet, how are we to love others, to love the world and to love our neighbour?

Tonight is serious, although we’ve laughed and joked in finding the twelve. Tonight, we partake in a tradition that stems back to our forefathers. A tradition that now the world no longer wants to know, because it means loosing ourselves. Washing the feet of others is not something that we naturally want to do. We all have trouble with humility and service, esteem and pride.

At the centre of his betrayal, on this dark and awful night, when darkness had fallen and Satan was at work, Jesus tells his disciples to love each other as he has loved us. How has he loved us? Not only by humbling himself, taking the lowest place at the meal by washing the feet and desiring a place within his disciples’ lives, but he also breaks bread and shares wine, an action that rings through eternity and continues to pierce the hearts of his followers today. As we eat and drink these holy gifts, we remember Christ, until he comes in glory. He calls on us to take off our shoes and to receive the Sacrament with fearfulness and sincerity, as he brings himself before us in the bread and wine, wanting to know us, desiring to be in our lives. As we stand before the altar tonight, we stand before Christ, just as present as he was before the twelve on the night he was betrayed and handed over. Satan is still at work today. Satan tells the world to delight, or ‘get off’, on the things that really destroy us and harm us – ourselves. Rather, we should choose to shatter the darkness as we humble ourselves and allow Jesus to take his rightful place, washing our feet. Brother Sylvain of the Taize community said: “These two acts, the Eucharist and the washing of feet, and are closely linked: both express the entire mystery of Jesus’ being in utter simplicity. Differently than by words, perhaps better than by words, Jesus shows what lies at the heart of the Gospel: "I have loved you to the end."

Tonight we take part I something that humbles us to walk bare foot – something divine.