"I have set you an example..."

When he had finished washing their feet, Jesus put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them. John 13:12-17

We had a little joke in my last pastorate (people often seemed to like taking the mick out of their minister, I can’t think why).

Numbers at our Sunday evening service were far smaller than in the morning, so before we left in the morning anybody who was willing would help with shifting or removing many of the chairs and rearranging them into a more suitable format.

My regular job was to roll one of those old-fashioned mechanical sweepers over the carpet, and this machine was humorously referred to as “Colin’s sweeper”. All good, cheery camaraderie.

But then some people joined us who came from a different country with a different church culture. They were quite shocked to see this. On one occasion one of them actually tried to take “Colin’s sweeper” from me. I was the pastor! – this really wasn’t fitting! (I did, of course, heroically stand my ground.)

You’ll see the connexion with the wonderful scene from John 13, when Jesus, the eternal Son of God, adopted the role of the most menial servant and stripped off, got down on his knees, and washed his disciples’ no doubt quite stinky feet. Simon Peter protested – and was put firmly in his place.

I’m not, of course, presuming to put myself on a par with Jesus – no, no, absolutely NO! But the parallel is there all the same, though in his case  Jesus is teaching a very serious and important lesson.

The most obvious point is about humility.

In the Roman world humility was likely to be despised rather than admired. But among the Jews it was the opposite: “humility”, declares Proverbs, “comes before honour” (15:33, 18:12) – not before disgrace or shame. Moses is described (Numbers 12:3) as “a very humble man, more humble than anyone else on the face of the earth” (which suggests, by the way, that while the first five books of the Bible are traditionally referred to as “the books of Moses”, that title is not to be taken too literally, as suggesting that he wrote every single word of them!).

And of course Jesus declares the “meek” to be “blessed”, to be those who will “inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). So that memorable action just before his crucifixion (surely the ultimate demonstration of humility) rings wonderfully true.

The more focussed lesson of the foot-washing is about leadership. Jesus is teaching his disciples what kind of leader he is – though by this time in his ministry, some three years on, you would think they should have had a pretty good idea already. Putting it very simply, in Christian circles, leaders lead by serving, not by ruling. Yes, they have an authority which should be respected and even obeyed (Hebrews 13:17), but they have – or should have – no sense of status, no ambition to move up the pecking order.

The climax of the story comes with the words of Jesus: “Now that I, your Lord and teacher, have washed your feet, you should also wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example…” We tend to play down Jesus’ role as example, preferring to emphasise him as the sacrifice for our sins. But it’s possible to overdo this…

(Perhaps this is a suitable moment to pause and ask ourselves the question: Being ruthlessly honest with myself, am I ambitious in a self-glorifying kind of way?)

Of course, there can be a painted-on kind of humility - an oily, unctuous, servile obsequiousness, the sort that might as well be wearing a label round its neck: “Do you see what a wonderfully humble person I am?” It’s even possible to slip into the odd paradox of being proud of being humble(!). Ugh! My knowledge of Dickens’s novels is, I’m afraid, a bit faded; but it’s hard to completely forget the monstrous Uriah Heep in David Copperfield. Or, if Anthony Trollope is your thing, the gloriously grotesque Obadiah Slope in the Barchester novels.

I picked up a story some years ago about one of the early “saints” of the church who was renowned for his wisdom, humility and practical involvement in founding schools and hospitals. An earnest young man visited him one day, obviously keen to impress him. He declared his intention to adopt a monastic life and devote himself full-time to solitude, fasting, meditation and prayer. The old man listened, nodded his head, then quietly responded, “Very good… but then whose feet will you wash?”

Private prayer and devotions are vitally important. Attention to matters of doctrine and interpretation likewise. But whose feet do we wash day by day? Whose feet should I be washing today?

Thank you, Father, for Jesus’ wonderful example described in John 13. Thank you too for the faithful people who have had the love and humility to wash my feet down through the years. Please help me to see Jesus’ example in my mind’s eye, and to consciously follow it. Amen.