Identity and Mission

Jesus, my Lord. What are you doing?

You must stop this now.

Now!

Look, everyone will see.

You can’t do this to me.

Not me.

You’re the guest of honour,

not the servant.

As I lean on your shoulder,

whispering in your ear,

I glance down and see your own feet.

I don’t think I’ve ever noticed your feet before.

Not the soles of them anyway.

Not like this.

These are strong feet, I notice.

They bear witness to your active life, tramping 

and travelling over rough roads and hillsides.

Bare, calloused, raw,

I see they are no prettier than my own.

Why would you do such a thing?

What are you trying to teach me?

Are you teaching me how to receive?

Is that it?

Is this a lesson in humility?

Or is it something else?

Is it about hospitality, learning to serve?

Is this what I need to learn?

Are we to serve too?

Are we to do this to others?

You know, I don’t know if I can…

But if you can, then I must.

As you wash my feet, I wonder who else you will do this to?

Will you do it to everyone, each one of us?

Surely not just me, Lord?

Will you do it to Judas?

Will you?

Are we to reach out to everyone?

To wash the feet of all?

The homeless?

The addict?

The diseased?

The weak and the hungry?

Those different from us?

Those from a different country?

Those from a different faith?

Surely not everyone?

And yet…you do.