Holy Feet, Jesus!

Holy Thursday, Year C (click here for biblical texts)

Feet, the bottom of the human body,
 dirty, calloused, twisted, arthritic, gnarled,
even hard, but some are soft with pretty
nails painted, massaged with oil sweet scented
or maybe not, smelly sweaty feet common—
all sorts and conditions of human worldly feet.
Who knows about Peter’s feet, a disciple’s feet,
and the other feet in that upper room
when Jesus took off his outer robe revealing
perhaps more of himself than normal among the
band of holy land walkers  who have shared
so much already.  Now here is something
very strange:  the rabbi wants to wash our dirty
feet as he has already invited us to share our
dirty linen—the same Jesus who is ready
to receive and wash our feet and linen today—even Peter’s,
who, of course, objects as he often does.
Is there ever a time when there is not
at least one Peter in every group ,
the long ago one offended by the
very idea of his Lord stooping to wash
feet, like today’s recoiling at showing
the imperfection of feet, even more
at being asked to wash others’.
How far we have fallen back, afraid of showing
in faith just our feet, not our private parts,
to one another in a sacred act
of service, not to mention dipping hands
into warm water to bathe tired feet—
are not feet nearly always tired, they
carry us wherever we go and if we have
not feet we must ride on chair or human back
or hop with crutches, feet efficiently
carrying us wherever we want to go—these are
feet of our neighbors, fellow congregants,
feet which trod on the same church floor as ours,
not the feet of strangers but fellow worshippers,
like us, Friends of Jesus who says
love one another, even your dirty, smelly,
calloused, hard or soft, ugly or pretty
feet.
If we cannot wash these feet, how can we
care for, let alone love, any others?

@Robin Gorsline 2016 lectionarypoetics.org
Please use the credit line above when publishing this poem in any form

writing+poetryAbout this poem . . .As a pastor who loves the service of foot washing, not because I have a foot fetish but because it makes Jesus so clear, I was often amazed by parishioners who drew back, almost in horror, at the idea of exposing their feet or touching any others. It was a recurring annual moment when I understood how thorough has been the domestication of Jesus within the church.

 

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