We'll understand it better bye and bye

The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 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.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” John 13:2-7

Of the four Gospels, only John tells us about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet.

We shouldn’t let our familiarity with this story blunt a sense of wonder – by doing this Jesus wasn’t just giving a lesson in humility; he was saying something truly breathtaking about the very nature of God. Short of the cross itself, where else might we see such a vivid demonstration of the sheer, tender love of God? - Jesus on his knees; Jesus wrapped in a towel; Jesus with a bowl of water; Jesus taking the part of the lowliest, most menial slave – Christian, here is your God!

No wonder Simon Peter protested: this was – well, it was just all wrong. “Lord, there’s no way you can wash my feet! I won’t allow it!” “No?” says Jesus; “well, in that case I’m afraid you can have nothing to do with me”. Whereupon Peter changes his mind…

That’s the essence of the story. But there’s a detail that perhaps we tend to gloss over, but which is worth reflecting on because it applies not only to that one particular event just before the crucifixion, but to all sorts of events in the life of any and every Christian, including you and me. Jesus said to Peter, “You do not realise now what I am doing, but later you will understand”.

Later you will understand… That, surely, is a beautiful promise to every person who is serious about following Jesus; something to give us comfort and hope.

Peter just couldn’t understand what Jesus was doing that day. And in the same way, there are times when we simply can’t see what God is up to in our lives. “Why, Lord?” we cry; “I just don’t get it!”

It may be a serious disappointment. We really had thought God was shepherding us in a particular direction, perhaps work-wise or marriage-wise. And then it all falls apart and life seems to have lost its zest and meaning.

It may be illness or even tragedy. Something happens that we won’t “get over in time”, but which will change life permanently, leaving us to make a massive and painful adjustment, possibly tempting us to bitterness and self-pity.

It may be something completely random, out of the blue, something for which we weren’t responsible and over which we have no control. And, very understandably we cry, “Why me, Lord?” (It’s hard not to think about the ordinary people of Ukraine at the moment…)

As we survey the sadnesses and mysteries of our lives we might very well shrug our shoulders and say, “Oh well, that’s life!” And we would be right: that is life.

But this is where trust in a loving God makes all the difference – the difference between resignation and acceptance.

Resignation is essentially negative: “Oh well, that’s life, I suppose – there’s no understanding it, and nothing I can do about it, so I’ll just try to put up with it”. But acceptance is positive: “True, that’s life. And no, I don’t understand it, and I’m not pretending I like it, because I don’t. But if the God I believe in – the God made known to us supremely in Jesus - really is my loving heavenly Father, then I will cling to him by my very finger-nails and cry out to him even if through gritted teeth”. Spot the difference?

The great Bible example, of course, is Joseph, son of Jacob (Genesis 37-50).

He is hated by his older brothers. True, you could say that some of his troubles he brought on himself, but he certainly paid a big price for it. His brothers plan to kill him, and end up selling him into slavery in Egypt.

He becomes a servant of Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh’s guard. Potiphar’s wife tries to seduce him, and when he resists her she tells Potiphar lies about him. Result: he lands in prison.

Here he meets two more of Pharaoh’s servants, his baker and his cupbearer, and becomes friendly with them. On the cupbearer’s release he pleads with him to mention him to Pharaoh; but “the chief cupbearer did not remember Joseph; he forgot him” and left him to rot in prison for two more years.

Then comes the big turnaround. Joseph has the gift of interpreting dreams, and when Pharaoh is troubled by dreams the cupbearer at last remembers him and tells Pharaoh about him. The result this time: he is appointed to be second only to Pharaoh in the whole of Egypt. Rags to riches indeed.

Joseph probably thought he would never see his brothers again. But he does: in time of famine they come to Egypt begging for food, and Joseph is the official they find themselves dealing with. He recognises them, but they don’t him.

The climax of the story comes in chapter 45, when Joseph, weeping, makes himself known to them. And he does so with these wonderful words: “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you…” (verse 5).

How often had Joseph, in his earlier misery, asked that big question: Why, Lord?

We don’t know. But what we do know is that the great word of Jesus to Simon Peter came true for him: “Later you will understand”.

And so will we!

Father, thank you that in your purposes all things really do work for the good of those who love you. Please help me to hold on to that through thick and thin. Amen.