When was the last time you washed or bathed another person? In our society, most people bathe or shower every day. We go to great lengths to make sure we are clean and groomed. But when is the last time you took care of someone else in this way?
Maybe it was when you bathed your children when they were little. I remember my mother putting all three of us boys into a large bathtub at the end of every day. There we sat soaking in the water as my mom shampooed our hair and made sure we were washing our bodies. A typical bath ended with my mother growing frustrated because time in the bathtub became playtime with more water ending up on the floor instead of staying in the tub. Some of you may be doing the same for your grandchildren. Or, perhaps, you are taking care of an elderly parent or grandparent?
The last time I remember bathing someone was my grandfather who lived with us for a number of years. About two years before his death, he had a stroke which left him partially paralyzed. As a result, he came to live with us and one of the things we had to do for him was to get him into the bathtub every day to bathe him and take care of his personal needs. It was not an easy task. We’d help my mom undress him, hold him as he stepped slowly into the tub and sat down on a stool that we placed there. Then, she would pour water over him. He was very modest and we had to make certain he always had as much privacy as we could give him. Obviously, he felt very vulnerable and we had to take care that he was treated with respect and dignity.
We wash babies, little children, the sick, the disabled. We do this for them because they cannot do it for themselves.
This evening, we are invited to recall what Jesus did for his disciples. Most of us would think of Holy Thursday as the day that Jesus gave us the Eucharist. We remember how he sat at table with his disciples celebrating the Jewish Passover. How he took bread and wine and said that they were his body and blood. At least that’s what the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke tell us.
But, instead of hearing a story of that meal, the Gospel of John tells us something very different. He spends little time focusing on the meal itself. Instead, John moves quickly from mentioning the meal to a scene where Jesus partially disrobes, puts a towel around his waist and bends to wash his disciples’ feet. What does this action of foot washing have to do with the Eucharist?
In answering that question, we need to know something about the ritual of washing one’s feet in biblical times.
In first century Palestine, foot washing was not something that people normally did for others. A good host would always provide water and a basin so that the guests could do that for themselves. But the host never did the actual washing. To wash someone else’s feet was regarded as one of the most demeaning acts that anyone could perform. Even slaves could not be forced to wash another person’s feet. That is understandable when you consider what people’s feet looked like back then.
People wore sandals and walked great distances. They walked through dirt, mud and animal droppings. They had no modern medicines for warts, corns, bunions or open wounds. They rarely cut their toenails. Their feet literally stunk. Even though many of us are still self-conscious about our feet, they do not compare with the way people’s feet looked back then.
So, in washing the feet of his able-bodied disciples, Jesus was breaking with custom and tradition. Jesus is respected as a rabbi and master and friend who is engaging in an action that is embarrassing in the eyes of his disciples. The disciples were aghast at the sight of Jesus touching and washing their dirty feet. As Peter demonstrates, the actions of Jesus are completely unacceptable.
In another way, Jesus is performing an act of complete submission. He is saying, through his actions, that he is less than a slave. He is assuming a posture of complete humility and servitude. He is “lowering himself”—performing an action that was below his status in society.
Could Jesus be saying something about his disciples in washing their feet? Remember people usually bathed themselves unless they were incapacitated in some way. Could Jesus be telling the disciples something about their own powerlessness; about their own inability to care for themselves? Not physically of course, for they were all able –bodied people; but about their inability to provide for their own spiritual well being and cleanliness.
Look at all the actions of Jesus on this evening. He breaks bread for them. He passes the cup. He gives them his body and blood. They will need this meal for their spiritual sustenance and strength. He is feeding them.
Then, he washes their feet. He stoops down. He pours the water. He dries their feet. They need him to do this. Like a child who relies on his/her parent to perform the task of bathing them; the disciples are like children who need to be cleansed.
Look at what happens the following day. Jesus carries the cross for them. He endures the rejection, the persecution and torture on their behalf. He dies for them. They could not endure such a thing themselves at this point. So, he takes the blows and the stripes for them.
In every way, it is Jesus who takes care of them. Like a parent who must do everything for a child, Jesus must care for these little ones—his disciples—so that they can learn how to care for themselves. I suspect that part of the embarrassment of the disciples was that they could have done this for themselves. Their pride and their egos are bruised because Jesus is doing it for them. Eventually, they would do this for others. They would break bread and share the cup with others. They would wash the feet of others and serve the needs of others. They would eventually die for others. But, on this night, they needed someone to do it for them.
One of the most important aspects of being a Christian is to accept one’s powerlessness. As much as we think we are able to fulfill the responsibilities of the Christian life, we cannot do it alone. Throughout Lent, I noticed a particular prayer during daily Mass which began: “Lord, without you we can do nothing.” This is the painful truth. In our sins and with our imperfect nature, we can do nothing for ourselves or for others. That is, until Christ acts upon us first.
Yes, we can earn degrees, hold jobs, marry, have children and be successful in very many ways. But, when it comes to our spiritual lives, we are like little children in need of a good scrubbing. We find that, as hard as we try, we can’t seem to pray very well. As often as we tell ourselves that we should be more forgiving, we just can’t forgive very well. As much as we try to save ourselves, we cannot do it. But spiritual growth, forgiveness and salvation can be attained only when we admit that we cannot do these things on our own power. We must have someone do it for us. We must let God bathe us in love; we must let Christ wash us with his forgiveness; we must let the Holy Spirit pour wisdom and understanding into our hearts.
As much as I’d like to think that I am a good priest, I could not do it unless Christ was doing it for me and through me. As much as you’d like to think that you are a good mother or father or son or daughter, you could not do that without Christ doing it through you and for you. As much as you would like to think that you are faithful child of God, you could not be that unless Christ was doing it for you.
That’s what the disciples had to learn on that evening. When Jesus stooped to wash their feet; he knew that they could not do it themselves. And, in an act of love and service, he did it for them. As a result, they would learn to serve others; strengthened by the food and drink he gave them and by the example he showed them.
Often times, parents tell their children, “I’m doing this for you now but one day you will learn how to do it yourself.” Jesus tells them, “You may not understand what I am doing for you at this time, but one day you will understand.”
As we wash each other’s hands this evening and break bread and share the cup, we do this because we have had a good teacher. We have been taught by the best of teachers. We have learned to do for others what we, at first, could not do for ourselves.
May our gathering this evening and our observances of Holy Week and Easter help us to recognize that without the Lord, we can do nothing. But with the Lord we can do everything. With the Lord as our teacher, we can live the spiritual life. With the Lord as our teacher, we can reach out to others. With the Lord as our teacher, we can learn to suffer, we can learn to die and we can rise to new life.