Jesus washing the disciples feet has often left me wondering whether He intended a greater lesson for us than to simply marvel at His humble servant-hood. It’s John 13 that records the event which says when Jesus had finished washing their feet, He asked:

Do you understand what I have done to you? (John 13:12)

In trying to grasp the significance of what He did, it is well to remember that Jesus remained with the disciples for 40 days following His resurrection. Surely Jesus could have found the time to wash their feet then, rather than on the night of His betrayal. Mere hours before His arrest, trial, flogging and crucifixion, Jesus must have been in emotional agony. Yet, Jesus concern was for the disciples who would be wounded by His death and scattered by the persecution that followed. Jesus knew they would be overcome with guilt and shame for denying Him and therefore potentially reluctant to return and face Him. By washing their feet before they deserted Him, Jesus laid the groundwork of grace and prepared the way for the disciples to be reconciled to Himself. In so doing, Jesus reassured them of His love and the forgiveness that awaited them when eventually they did sin against Him.

That scene where Peter makes his enlightened confession of Christ leads me to ponder. As I recall from scripture, only Peter, James and John witnessed the transfiguration. Before that, the 12, just like everyone else, saw the natural man Jesus, with their natural eyes. Asked “Who do people say that I am?”, there was no risk for the disciples to answer Jesus’ question; they simply repeated what they’d heard. Not once did Jesus say “BZZT! Wrong!” Even when some of the answers were preposterous. “John the Baptist? Someone thought I was John the Baptist? He baptized Me! How could I be him?!?” No, Jesus just listened. But then He asked the $64,000 question; one fraught with risk for the disciples. Did fear of speaking foolishly make for a complete silence? How long did the crickets chirp?

It was Peter who declared what man can see only with eyes opened by God:

“You are the Christ – Son of the Living God”.

How I admire Peter’s willingness to take a risk and get out of the boat again – casting off the safety net of group conformity and boldly declaring his faith.

I watched a man hobble out of the post office to his car, laboring over each step while leaning on a cane for support. With so many elderly in our community, it is fairly common to see people who are struggling with failing health. My heart goes out to them and often I find myself quietly praying for their healing and comfort.

As I prayed for the man at the post office, the Holy Spirit impressed me that I was relying on human sight to pray for people suffering from obvious physical conditions. After reminding me that the Proverb says “lean not on your own understanding”, the Holy Spirit prompted me to consider how my praying might change if I could see a person’s spiritual needs and respond with prayer for those.

Next year, I’ll turn 70. Raised from childhood in a mainline church, the stories of Noah, David and Goliath, Jonah and the whale, captured my young imagination. There wasn’t anything we couldn’t make out of Popsicle sticks, craft paper, paste, and Plaster of Paris during Sunday School hour. It was a joyful experience, fondly remembered. Yet somewhere along the line, I learned that God was a harsh judge, sending punishment on people who were bad. Whether that was expressly taught, I don’t know, it’s just the impression I was left with by the time I reached adulthood. Fear and insecurity were reinforced at home and school, where some times it felt like the only time I heard my name, was when an adult summoned me for inquisition and punishment.

Realistically, fear and insecurity were at work within me even from conception. I was born with a heart defect. No, not a physical defect, but a wound to my very being that somehow prevented me from receiving love. Mom even wrote about it in my baby book – how it broke her heart that I didn’t like to be held or kissed, refused to suckle, or receive any other form of affection. The curse followed me into adulthood where I often downplayed anyone’s expression of love for me. From sources unknown, condemnation rang in my ears and denied me the love and care of others.