Delivered 3.31.10, Holy Week, Fairhope United Methodist Church.
If I could tell you only one story about Jesus as you reflect on the crucifixion, I would probably tell you about the night Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. The other gospel writers all describe a meal around a common table and the conversation and events surrounding that event. John chooses to tell us about something else that happened as the meal was being served that night. It is helpful to know that it was customary for a servant to wash the feet of the guests gathered for a meal. Dirty, dusty feet. Tired feet. Feet that often walked many miles to reach their destination. But on this night, no servant was there to provide for that task, and none of those gathered had volunteered.
In order to tell you this story, I have to start at the beginning…at the very beginning, at creation, way back in Genesis. To understand this story, you have to know that when God created humankind, we were absolutely whole and perfect. I use the pronoun “we” here purposefully, to emphasize that in God’s creation of Adam and Eve, his intention and design for each of us was fully present. The promise for who we would be, who we ARE, was contained within the first man and woman. So God created us as whole and complete beings, but to make us authentically human, he gave us free will and set parameters on our choices. We could have everything but ONE thing. We could be perfectly satisfied with all God had created. We didn’t NEED that one thing God said was off limits. There wasn’t even anyone else to compete with who had that one thing except some slimy serpent. But when Eve took the fruit of the tree and shared it with Adam, her willing accomplice, humanity became broken. WE became broken and WE ARE BROKEN.
When sin entered the world, our wholeness was shattered. And ever since the events we read about in the third chapter of Genesis “came to pass,” human beings have been trying to fix whatever it is that is broken deep in our souls and spirits. One of the ways we see that brokenness reveal itself in our lives is in the sense of competition that emerges toward other people. In its earliest manifestation, in childhood, it is heard in the words “no” and “mine.” That brokenness is somehow inherent in the fact that children have to be taught to share, isn’t it? Early on, we have to start teaching our children that wonderful principle of letting someone else play with their toys. We tell them to “be nice” and “share” their blocks with the other kids. We urge them to “take turns.” None of this comes completely natural to children, because the human condition is one of brokenness.
So, we as adults are still trying to fix that which is broken inside. As adults, it is part of our nature to jockey for position, too. We pursue certain activities and acquire specific habits that will help us “get ahead” in this world. We judge ourselves based on how we compare to other people. This world we live in has become quite a competitive place. I remember my last quarters in college as I began to interview for jobs out in the real world through our career placement office. I was an economics major through the business school at University of Georgia, headed for a career in the business world in the early eighties. We were coached in all sorts of ways to set our sights toward position and power and authority. We were taught to write the perfect one-page resume, to shake hands with a firm handshake, to make direct eye contact and speak decisively and knowledgeably. We were taught when asked the ubiquitous question about strengths and weaknesses to answer the question in the sort of way that made even our weaknesses look like desirable qualities in a job candidate. “I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist.” “I am sometimes too hard on myself.” “I sometimes have a hard time delegating because I want to make sure everything is done perfectly.”
I was entering the business world during a time when women were beginning to make significant headway into higher management positions. But there was one problem for females entering the business world. Men had a uniform, and women did not. It was easy for a man to look the part. But women weren’t quite sure what that meant. A man could put on a suit and tie and white shirt with a button down collar, polished shoes and a briefcase. It was more of a problem for a woman deciding what to wear. Someone gave me a book that became my “other bible” in those days. It was called, “Dress for Success for Women.” What it advocated was a sort of uniform for women: a dark blue or gray blazer, a white shirt, skin colored hose, navy or black pumps with medium high heels and a little bow tied up under the collar with some kind of neutral design. This was to be the icing on the cake for the females in our ranks who were out there interviewing for jobs--a good education, great interview skills and a “uniform” that would put us well on our way to climbing the corporate ladder.
Since you live in the same broken world I live in, you know the metaphors that color our lives, the advocacy to do what we can to get ahead, the compulsion to acquire more and more stuff, the ways in which we measure ourselves against other people and how they look and what they do and what they have. What we find, though, when we bring ourselves before scripture is that none of those things will fix what is broken on the inside. None of those metaphors are found in scripture. Instead, when we take a good hard look at the Word of God what we find is Jesus with a towel and a basin doing the lowliest and most menial of human tasks! That is the kind of model and metaphor we find in scripture, the metaphor of service, of giving, quite often sacrificially. You can search scripture from one end to the other and you will not find anything that urges you toward personal acquisition or power or authority over others. Instead you will find the admonition to sell all you have and give to the poor. You will find parables encouraging you to be a good neighbor to those in need. You will find advice to turn the other cheek, to go the second mile, to find a void where need exists and fill it. Living the Jesus way is how the brokenness is made whole.
Life tends to be full of reminders that much of what we work to gain and preserve here on earth can be gone in the blink of an eye. This current economic environment has been a stark reality check that the value of our property, our investments, our jobs, our bank accounts can lose their worth faster than we ever imagined. The aging process reminds us that the same smile and attitude that opened doors for us several decades ago won’t get our foot in the door today. The hairstyles that worked for us in the 80s are just the butt of our children’s jokes today. Keeping up with the Jones’s is like being on a never-ending treadmill. If we base our hope and value on the relationships we have, those, too, are not guaranteed beyond today.
So, is it wrong to work hard to provide for your family? Is it sinful to save toward your retirement? Is it something shameful if you have worked your way into a position of leadership and respect in your field or in the community? Is it wrong to be happy that you have a good-looking wife and beautiful children? Absolutely not! An adamant “No” to all of those questions. But none of those will make you whole or fulfill God’s purposes for you. There has to be something more in our lives. Scripture would have us ask these kinds of questions of ourselves: What are you doing to make a lasting difference in this world? What meaningful work are you doing for the kingdom of God? Are you giving the first fruits of your labor to further Christ’s work in the world? Are you helping meet the needs of those around you? Are you giving sacrificially in any way? That means, are you giving UP something or giving OF yourself to the point of making yourself somewhat uncomfortable?
Sin stands between you and me and our path to holiness. Only one thing can bridge that gulf, and that is the love of Jesus Christ poured out on the cross for all of us. It is hard for me to comprehend fully the love that would cause someone to die on the cross for me. It helps me to understand that love when I remember that Jesus, this man who died for me on the cross, just hours earlier took the time to do the most menial of tasks for the ones he loved. He wrapped a towel around himself and took a basin with water and washed the disciples’ feet. If I had been there, he would have washed my feet, too. He would not have cared whether or not I had a recent pedicure, although I am enough like Peter that I would probably sweat that detail first thing. Jesus wouldn’t have cared. He would have taken my feet gently in his hands. He wouldn’t have even mentioned the rough, peeling skin or the bunions or whether or not I had polished my toenails. He would have held my feet ever-so-tenderly, knowing they were tired from trudging around with all my burdens, and he would have brought refreshment to my soul and spirit as he ministered to my needs. If we only give lip-service to our understanding of the Cross and don’t live the Jesus way, we are not Easter people.
I hope that as we experience Crucifixion and Resurrection in days to come, we will keep the vision of Jesus with a towel and basin at the forefront of our thoughts, because it shows us where we go next. It helps us know what to do with all the emotion churned up by the realities thrust upon us during our experience of this Lenten season. Once when I was in a service of Holy Communion, the pastor administering the sacrament offered the elements in this way. He held the bread in front of us and said these words: “This loaf is whole. We are broken.” Then he broke the bread and said, “Jesus became broken that we might be made whole.” And then he held the cup up in front of us and said, “This cup is full. We are empty. Jesus poured himself out that we might be made full.” And therein is Truth! It is only in giving ourselves away that we stumble upon true joy and wholeness in our lives. May we in this Lenten season be overcome with the compassion of Christ, so that we may live as compassionate people in this world that would tug us in so many other directions.
Thanks be for the sacrificial love of Jesus Christ, a love so big and wide that we can only comprehend it in small glimpses.
John 13:8 “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part of me.”
