I had a friend who believed that her feet and everyone’s feet were ugly. We vacationed many times at the beach and she never once went barefoot in the sand. She was adamantly opposed to flip flops and the toe peep shoe movement.
Only cancer moved her to show her feet in the hospital because she just didn’t care any more. She was going to meet the Maker of her feet soon and it would be okay.
I’m curious about how many people either washed feet or allowed someone to wash their feet last night. (Please share.)
Was the story about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet read? Were children’s feet washed? Did adults with freshly manicured feet allow the pastors to touch them? Most of us feel queasy about having a stranger – or even a friend – wash our feet even if we have prettied them up. Foot washing seems especially frowned upon in neat and tidy Protestant congregations.
How do we come clean on Good Friday and admit our complicity in evil and darkness if we were not able to reveal our own feet on Thursday? The truth is that many of us have gnarly, bony, callused, lumpy, fungus afflicted, cracked and nasty feet. Some of us are ashamed of our feet. We don’t want anyone – anyone – to see them.
Good Friday is the day when we remember that the human Jesus died a hideous, ugly, shameful, terrifying death because of fear and injustice by powerful people. We are complicit in the world’s evil. And it’s something we must confess.
We need to wash each other’s feet and allow God to wash away the ignorance and evil in each of us. Me included.
Peter said to Jesus, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”