A Better Way

“And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.” - John 2b-5


I look at my disciples tonight and I wonder.
Will they ever understand?
James and John continue to jockey for position.
Judas is playing games; for the right price
he will throw me under the bus.
Even Peter wants to be sure he is not left behind.
I think they want to form a corporation.

I told them many times that this is not the way.
Day after day I tried to teach them
that our Father’s realm is different.
I took them into small towns and rural areas,
urban tenements and posh suburban neighborhoods.
I took them into palaces and hovels where
we befriended the righteous and the criminal alike.
I wanted them to see how people wasted their lives chasing
after shadows. It is not to be like this for them.
I wanted them to know that in order to be first in our Father’s realm
they must choose to be last in this one. To be great
they must choose to serve others. To be wise
they must see with the eyes of a little child. To be rich
they must share everything they own.
I want them to know that the entire world is theirs,
but they cannot embrace it when their arms are so full of things.
Our Father’s grace is everywhere, but they will not see it
as long as they think life is a zero-sum game.

Tonight at the Passover feast I will show them.

I will put on an apron. With a basin of soapy water I will kneel
before each one. I will look up into their faces,
into their eyes. With the infinite love I feel for each one
I will untie their sandals. I will scrub their feet
until the muck and mire of this night
is washed away, until their feet are as clean as a baby’s.
On this night, our last together, I will fold each foot
in the softest towel and massage it until dry.
Then, perhaps, they will understand.

I did not come to be served
but to serve. I did not come to receive,
but to give. I did not come to be loved,
but to love. I did not come to stand above them,
but to stand with them. I am not their master,
but their brother. I am not their judge
but only one who wants to show them a better way.

(Photo by Billy Hathorn, 5/24/10, LeTourneau University, Longview, Texas)