Day 4 – The Lord Who Kneels To Serve

13 It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.

² The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. ³ Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from Godand was returning to God; ⁴ so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. ⁵ After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

⁶ He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”

⁷ Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

⁸ “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

⁹ “Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”

¹⁰ Jesus answered, “Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.” ¹¹ For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not every one was clean.

¹² When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. ¹³ “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. ¹⁴ Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. ¹⁵ I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. ¹⁶ Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.¹⁷ Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.

Comment

Yesterday we saw Jesus standing alone with a guilty woman, combining unwavering truth with astonishing mercy. Today John draws us still nearer to the cross. Jesus is at his final meal with his disciples, and the first lesson he gives them is not a speech but an action: their Lord gets down on his knees and washes their feet.

We can miss how shocking this was. Roads were dusty, sandals were open and feet were filthy. Washing them was the work of a household servant – and sometimes a task considered too degrading even for a Jewish slave. Yet Jesus removes his outer clothing, wraps a towel around his waist and takes the servant’s place. Peter’s protest is understandable: ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’ (v.6) The titles and the action appear not to belong together.

But Jesus does not cease to be Lord when he kneels. John carefully tells us that Jesus knows exactly who he is: he has come from God, is returning to God, and the Father has put all things under his power (v.3). Then comes the extraordinary word ‘so’. Because he knows that all things are his, he gets up to serve. His humility does not arise from insecurity or low self-esteem. It is the free self-giving of the one who possesses true majesty.

Nor does Jesus wash the feet of loyal and deserving friends. Judas is present, already resolved to betray him. Peter will deny him three times, and all the disciples will desert him. Jesus knows what lies within them, yet ‘having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end’ (v.1). The phrase can also carry the sense that he loved them to the uttermost. This is the beauty of his love: it stoops towards people who will fail him.

Peter finds that beauty confronting. ‘You shall never wash my feet,’ he insists (v.8). He is willing to serve a glorious Messiah, but not to be served by a humiliated one. Jesus’ reply shows that more than dirty feet are at stake: ‘Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.’ (v.8) Before Christianity is a pattern of service for us to imitate, it is a cleansing we must humbly receive.

The foot-washing points beyond the basin to the cross. Within hours Jesus will be stripped again, lowered still further and subjected to the shameful death of a slave. There he will not wash dust from feet but cleanse sin from guilty hearts. We cannot make ourselves clean through moral effort, religious observance or usefulness at church. We must accept the unsettling grace of being served by Jesus – of admitting that only his death can wash us.

Only then does Jesus say, ‘I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you’ (v.15). He is not chiefly establishing a foot-washing ceremony. He is giving us a pattern for a whole life. Those washed by the Master become servants: noticing unglamorous needs, giving up status, doing tasks beneath our dignity and loving people who may never repay us.

Christian humility is therefore neither thinking that we are worthless nor making a performance of modesty. It is freedom from having to protect our importance. Because our Lord has loved and cleansed us, we can turn our attention away from ourselves and towards the good of another. And this service is not merely a grim duty. Jesus promises, ‘Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them’ (v.17). We live most truly when our lives take the shape of his.

Why does God want me to hear this today? Perhaps because I admire Jesus’ humility while resisting the two ways it challenges my pride. I do not want to admit that I need him to wash me, and I do not want to stoop to serve someone else. Jesus invites me first to receive his cleansing and then to take up the towel. Christianity is beautiful because at its centre is the Lord who kneels.