By Dr. Kevin Thomas —
It was noisy around the table that Thursday night. Platters were loaded with roasted lamb, bitter herbs, and unleavened bread. Cups of wine lined the table. This night was special—the Passover, and the guests were enjoying the feast. If you could listen in, you’d hear laughter, debate, and boasting as one guest challenged another about their adventures of the last three years, each one trying to outdo the other. They reclined at the table with their unwashed feet stretched out behind them. Absent any servants, no one had bothered with that detail. Certainly, none of the guests would volunteer for such a lowly chore, especially not while trying to prove their importance.
The room turned silent as the Master stood, stripped off His party clothes, and wrapped a towel around His waist. Mouths dropped open as their Rabbi filled a basin with water. Through confused and shame-filled eyes, the disciples watched as their Creator knelt at their feet. The One who carved canyons with His finger and piled up mountains His hands bent to a slave’s job. The Lord of Glory washed dirty feet with perfect love and care while followers tried to understand their Leader.
Peter was overwhelmed. It was his job that Jesus was doing. Peter, puffed up with pride, neglected the duty that fell to him that night. Now convicted, he refused to let Jesus wash his feet. “If I don’t wash you, you can’t be one of mine,” Jesus said. Peter, still fighting for dignity countered, “Then not just my feet but my whole body.” Jesus reminded him, “The one who is already clean only needs the feet washed.” Then the Master waited for permission to serve.
Too often pumped up with pride, I am continually drawn back to the image of Christ on His knees. The Author of life came not to be served, but to serve. Lord, give me Your heart.