Called to Love and Serve
A sermon based on  John 13:1-17, 31b-35
by Rev. Rick Thompson

      What is Jesus doing?  Just what does he think he’s doing?

     He’s the one they call “Master” and “Teacher”.  He’s the one they call “Lord”. On Sunday, as he rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, they shouted “Hosanna!” and hailed him as their King.

    Clearly, in the eyes of many, including his disciples, Jesus is a person with power and authority.  They’d seen him do amazing things, unheard of things, like turn water into wine, restore the sight of a man born blind, and, yes, even raise Lazarus from the dead!

     So what is Jesus doing, stepping away from the table, taking off his outer garment, taking up a basin and towel, and offering to wash his disciples’ feet?  Dirty feet, from walking the streets and roads of Jerusalem and the surrounding country, with sandals, if anything, on their feet.  Those feet had walked in the dry dust of Palestine.  And who knows what else they might have been stepping in along the way.

     Didn’t Jesus know?  Didn’t Jesus know that was the job of the lowliest servant in the household, a thankless job?  It certainly wasn’t the role of someone known as “Master”, “Teacher”, “Lord”, and “King”. 

     But Jesus knew what he was doing.  In John’s gospel, Jesus is always in charge.  Even when things seem to be happening to him—like in the story we’ll hear tomorrow—he and his heavenly Father are the ones who are really behind it all.

     So we have to assume that Jesus knew what he was doing when he laid aside his robe, took up basin and towel, and washed the dirty, smelly feet of his disciples.

     This Master, this Teacher, this Lord, this King is deliberately living out his ministry, spending his last night with his closest companions, as their Servant!

     What’s Jesus doing?  He’s demonstrating that he has come to lavish the love of God upon his disciples and upon the world.  John has made that clear in introducing this story: “Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father.  Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”  And now Jesus is doing all he can to illustrate that point, to make it abundantly clear to his disciples—his disciples then, and his disciples now, you and I.

     What’s Jesus doing?  He’s arranged a meal for him and his followers and, as they recline at table, he’s washing dirty feet.  He’s tending to his disciples’ needs.  The touch, the refreshing water, the soft towel—how soothing that must have been to tired, dirty, smelly feet.  He’s their servant.  The master is the servant!  The Lord of all is the slave! 

     And why does he do it? Because “he loved them—he loves US, too—he loved them to the end!”

     And tomorrow, we’ll see where that takes Jesus.  It takes him to a cross.  What kind of Servant-King is this, who will die in the place of his followers—unlike other kings who would punish or execute them if they disobey?  What kind of Servant-King is this who pours out his life, and his blood, and his breath, out of love for the world, who dies a horrible death?  “He loved them to the end.”  That’s the kind of King he is!

     And that death, that sacrificial death—well it helps us understand the washing, too, doesn’t it.  It’s not only dirty feet Jesus washes.  It’s whatever needs cleansing in us.  It’s a washing for sin—don’t you think?  Isn’t that what Jesus teaches Peter?  When that impetuous disciple—still talking first and thinking later—insists, “No, Jesus. You can’t wash my feet.  I need to be washing you!!”  And Jesus replies, “If I don’t wash you, you have no share in me.”  And a bit later, “Those who have bathed”—is he talking about baptism here?  about being joined to his sacrificial death?—“Those who have bathed are already clean.”

     And the meal—the meal he offers, the meal we share today—could it be more than just about food?  Could it be about God coming to us, God coming into us, to give life and forgiveness and wholeness and joy? 

     Yes, it could!  That’s the kind of King we have—one who serves by washing us clean; one who serves by feeding us with the bread of life; one who serves by dying to give us life.

     And this is the One who says, “I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done unto you…Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

     Jesus serves us, and commands us to love and serve in his name.

     And he gives us the power, the strength, and the will to obey his command.  He gives it as he washes us clean; otherwise we would not have the capacity to serve others.  Jesus gives us what we need as he feeds us with his word, his body, and his blood; without them, we would be too weak to serve and love others.  He gives us what we need as he gives up his life for us and for the world; without his death, and life it gives us, we would have no life to give others.

     Jesus serves us—and gives us the power to serve.

     He gives us the power to wash others’ feet, to walk alongside the hungry and the poor and the suffering and the oppressed.  He gives us the power to enter the toughest, dirtiest, most god-forsaken places in this world, and breathe into them the life he first gives us.  It’s not easy to serve.  It requires sacrifice.  It requires humility.  It requires the willingness to take risks.

     And it also requires the conviction that in the sacrifice, in the humility, in the risk-taking, Christ is present and at work and will give us joy in our serving.

     You’ve discovered that, haven’t you?  You’ve discovered that, when you set aside your pretensions, and follow the example of Jesus, and live by his power, and respond to the needs of others without regard for the reward to yourself—then God is present, and God blesses you, and God gives you strength and joy in your serving.

     Robert Wuthnow tells the story of Jack Casey, a fire department paramedic.  As a child, Jack was having five teeth pulled under general anesthesia, and he was terribly afraid.  But more than the fear, and the post-surgical pain, he remembers the operating room nurse.  Sensing Jack’s terror, the nurse assured him, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here beside you no matter what happens.”  When Jack woke up after his surgery, the nurse was true to her word; there she was, standing right beside him.

     Nearly 20 years later, Jack and his team are called to the scene of a highway accident.  There is an overturned truck, the driver is pinned in the cab, and the team needs the Jaws of Life to extract the man from the wreckage.  Diesel fuel is dripping onto the driver’s clothes.  One spark from the Jaws of Life could cause a tragic explosion. The driver is terrified, crying out, “I don’t want to die!  I don’t want to die!!”   So Jack crawls into the cab next to the terrified man and says, “Look, don’t worry, I’m right here with you; I’m not going anywhere.”  And Jack was true to his word; he stayed with the man until he was safely removed from the wreckage.

     Later, the truck driver told Jack, “You were an idiot; you know the whole thing could have exploded, and we’d have both been burned up!” 

     “Well,” said Jack, “I just felt I couldn’t leave you alone.” [i]

     It was Jack’s experience, years ago, with the operating room nurse which gave him the courage and strength to serve the truck driver in his time of desperate need.

     And it’s our experience with Jesus, who has taken on human flesh and crawled in beside us, who stays beside us no matter what, who washes us clean, and feeds

[i] Robert Wuthnow, “Stories to Live By,” Theology Today, Vol. XLIX, No. 3, pp. 308-309; quoted in Thomas Long, Whispering the Lyrics: Sermons for Lent and Easter, CSS Publishing, 1995, pp. 72-73.