On Maundy Thursday of Holy Week, Jesus and his disciples have come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. They have walked the uphill road from Bethany to Jerusalem, and they have come to the Upper Room. Their feet are coated with dust from their walk. In Jewish culture of that time, the host would see to it that a slave would wash the feet of his guests. It was a menial task Jewish servants were not even required to do. It was usually assigned to gentile slaves.
But here in the Upper Room there is no gentile slave to wash their feet. Just Jesus and his twelve disciples. So there’s no way around it: one of them will have to do it. The pitcher with water is there; so is the wash basin. The disciples cast nervous glances at each other to see who is willing to abase himself on behalf of the others, but not one of them makes a move.
Now come two of the most incredible verses, to my mind, in all of Scripture. John 13:3 says, “Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God.”
Now, after such a majestic buildup, what would we expect to come next? The verse refers to Christ’s awareness of his cosmic authority, his heavenly origin, and heavenly destiny―wouldn’t we expect an action of some glory and power worthy of Christ’s universal sovereignty, of his cosmic authority, and of his oneness with the Father?
Notice what follows next: “so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.” Doesn’t this action of Jesus strike you as being totally incongruous after the majestic buildup of the previous verse? Until we perceive the connection between these two verses, and we are moved to amazement.
With calmness and majesty and in the fullness of his love, Jesus removes his outer clothing and strips down to his loin cloth―we’re reminded that on the cross Jesus was similarly stripped of his outer clothing. As though he were nothing more than a slave, a goyische slave, Jesus proceeds to wash his disciples’ feet, including the feet of Judas, who, in only a few hours, would betray him.
Then Jesus comes to Peter. Impetuous, impulsive Peter.
Unable to restrain himself, Peter states what the others are thinking but are too timid to express. Struck by the inappropriateness of the Master washing his dirty feet, Peter blurts out, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Then, “No, you shall never wash my feet.” I hope you catch the irony, though, that Peter is not at all reluctant to tell this Master of the Universe what not to do.
Jesus finishes washing the feet of every one of his disciples, and puts his outer garments back on.
“Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asks. Then he tells them, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” So Christ explicitly commands his disciples―and us, I presume―to do as he did.
Is Christ instituting a new sacrament here, then, the sacrament of foot-washing? Many have interpreted this to be the case. And, throughout history, popes, bishops, abbots, even kings, wash the feet of paupers on Maundy Thursday. If you look up the meaning of the word maundy you’ll see it comes from the Latin mandatum―commandment.
Let us not get sidetracked as to whether Christ was instituting a new sacrament here. What Christ appears to have in mind is not so much an outward ritual, but more of an inner attitude, one of humility, of considering others better than ourselves.
The message Christ taught his disciples in the Upper Room is repeated by the apostle Paul in Philippians 2: “Have the same mindset as Christ Jesus,” Paul tells us; “in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.”
There is an implication, and application, of the commandment I want to point out here, and that is our reluctance to allow ourselves to be washed. Few of us like to appear to need someone, to be vulnerable, to be ministered to. As the beautiful hymn puts it, it requires grace:
Will you let me be your servant,
Let me be as Christ to you,
Pray that I might have the grace
To let you be my servant, too.
May we, the Body of Christ, the church, be a community of those who look not only to our own interests, but also to the interest of others, servants of the King who laid down his life for us.
20 Responses
Valuable and convicting. Thanks Hugh.
I hope you will be writing more here in the future.
Thank you, Hugh, for this rich meditation. You’ve helped me see those two verses in a fresh, new light.
I, too, hope you will write here more in the future.
Thanks, Hugh. Whether foot washing is sacramental or not, it would be a lovely and meaningful tradition to add to our worship services or perhaps in small groups, upon occasion. When my daughter got married about 8 years ago, she decided to add the ceremony of foot washing for herself and her husband. It was a beautiful symbol of developing a servant-like attitude in ones marriage.
Thanks, Nancy. I’ve participated in foot washing ceremonies a number of times, and have found them very moving.
Hugh
Thank you, Hugh! Your reflection is extremely appropriate during these chaotic times, as we are witnessing gross abuse of power. I hope you continue to contribute to RJ.
Thanks, Cor. You’ve worked many years in the field of student services, so you’re familiar with the importance of of servant leadership. Best wishes.
So beautifully rendered, especially pointing out that it takes grace and humility to let others be your servant. Having had two knees replaced in the last year, it was difficult to admit that we would appreciate meals for several weeks after each surgery. Most of my life has been spent in the in the role of being of help to others; very seldom having to ask for help. To be on the receiving end was humbling, yet filled with grace as we enjoyed the meals that had been so carefully prepared and delivered to us by every age group, not just our circle of friends. It was, for me, a profoundly simple demonstration of the hands and feet of Christ.
Thank you, Janice. I hope your recovery from the knee surgery is going well.
Wise words. Thanks, Hugh.
Thanks, Carol. Best wishes with your new book.
The hymn you quote captures the awkwardness we feel at times as recipients of grace. Thank you for your insights and encouragement this Maundy Thursday. Hope to see you again on the RJ pages.
Good to hear from you, Dave. Thanks for workshopping your novel at Scriptoria, and I hope it gains a wide readership.
Hugh, thank you for alerting us to this much-needed reminder that our Lord taught us and showed us that to be a servant of him, the Christ, is to be a servant to each other. Wouldn’t its transforming power emerge if practiced lovingly and faithfully at home, in church, and community?
Thank you, friend. Het allerbeste.
The connection between verse 3 and verses 4-5, is an example of his “Show-and-Tell” style of teaching—a most incredible revelation: Let me show you what divine power and majesty look like!
The prose versions of this teaching are found in:
Jn 1.13 “No one has ever seen God, but God the one and only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.”
And in Jesus’ own words:
Jn 14.9 “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”
Hello, Hugh! A delight! You’ve given me fresh insight into this passage. Thank you for your wisdom. I, too, hope to read you here more often.
Thank you, Hugh, for the forthrightness of this piece On Maundy Thursday 2025—
Wondering why in the world, the Bible
has not yet been banned
from the US Naval Academy
Recalling the Maundy Thursday civility of reciprocity,
biblical dynamic of Christianity Classic,
modeled by JC himself
humbling and so very DEI,
this servanthood required of all of us.
Waiting tonight for TV coverage of DT
washing the feet of Marianne Edgar Budde;
Waiting tonight for TV coverage of JD
washing the feet of Kamala Harris;
Grateful the current Pope has lived this long
to bear witness – with the rest of us.
Pondering, most importantly, whose feet I am called to wash
and who will wash mine—
no one exempt from this divine practice of shared humanity.
EJS, 4/17/25
It’s great to hear your voice again, Hugh. Thanks.
Your narration of this amazing passage was a blessing today; I’m glad it was part of my Holy Week. With continuous appreciation from one of your Redeemer students from the early 90’s