I had my feet washed today at noon in downtown Jacksonville. It was the annual Maundy Thursday foot washing service sponsored by the Church Without Walls. It was in a parking lot off a busy East-West artery. There was no shade and it was a hot and sunny Spring day. Several pairs of chairs were set up on a blue tarp. Young people ran back and forth with clean water. Towels, soaps and lotion were available at each station. After the foot washing a clean pair of socks were offered. Whether anyone wanted to get their feet washed or not there was a bag lunch, coffee and bottled water on hand. The foot traffic was constant over the lunch time hours. I had come to help out. Do you want your feet washed, she asked me. No, No, I'm good, I said, an image of my unsightly toe nails flashing through my mind. Soon, I was caught up in what was going on. The feet of the homeless were washed and their hands washed other feet. Several women who I guessed were older than I were busy washing and massaging people's feet. Massaging - with love and great care, and with prayer. Some praying during the washing but always after - hand in hand with the ones who came to be washed. Suddenly, I was aware of a woman beckoning to me to sit down at her station. Inviting but not asking, she had a look of don't go refusing this. You need it. I did but I didn't know it yet. Remember, I came to minister but not to get too close like some of us ministers do. This saint took hold of my feet as I mildly protested their less than perfect appearance. She smiled, want to see mine, she said showing me with her hands how hopelessly gnarled her toes were. She washed, she dried, she lotioned, and then she held my hands and prayed for me by name. A blessing upon me of God's unconditional love.
I was reminded of Peter's protest when Jesus bowed to wash his feet. Jesus told him a big part of knowing the presence of Jesus was to have his feet washed by Jesus. I went there to serve others. Jesus loved and served me through his body and the sacrament of foot washing.
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