Maundy Thursday: The Jesus Paradox
Maundy Thursday: The Jesus Paradox
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Many years ago, when I worked in biomedical research, I was the lab technologist, handyman, purchasing agent, and data analyst. I juggled my responsibilities and kept the lab running and helping the post-doctoral students with their projects. I never said no to them or the faculty, only “Let me see when I have time.” I was relied upon as much as I depended on them to teach me what I needed to know. At the end of the day, I normally walked down the hall to the business manager’s office to ask if she (or anyone else) needed anything else from me before I left. Most of the time the answer was no, but occasionally there was, and I stayed until I got it done.
I left that lab for another one with new people and very different relationships between the faculty, the business manager, and the technicians like me. For the first two or three weeks, I continued my habit of walking down to the business manager’s office to ask if there was anything more she needed from me that day. She was at first taken aback that I was asking, and then became put-off as time went on. I also continued my habit of taking care of certain things in the new lab that we were building that I had taken care of before, only to be told that it wasn’t my responsibility. I had the impression that she and the lab director felt that I was doing things that were beneath my job description. I abandoned my habits, and stuck to what I was asked to do. Nothing more.
Jesus shocks Peter when he ties a towel around his waist and starts to wash his feet. Peter’s response is an indication of the relationship that he and Jesus had: Jesus was the Rabbi, the teacher, and Peter was the student, trying hard (and often failing) to understand who Jesus was and what he was teaching. To Peter, Jesus was the Son of God, far above him in understanding the world, God, and how to live between God and the world. Like the other disciples, Peter could only catch glimpses of what Jesus saw, comprehend fragments of what Jesus knew, and stumble as he tried to follow Jesus’ example of living faithfully. To have Jesus wash his feet was as unimaginable as a college professor asking to wash their student’s laundry. But as Jesus was explaining why he was doing this, Peter pushed for more. He asked that Jesus wash his head and hands as well. Jesus’ response sets a boundary, a limit on what is necessary in light of Peter’s shocked confusion and request for more of Jesus’ attention.
Jesus’ foot washing is a culmination and conclusion to what he had been saying all along. The religious authorities were angered when he said that the first must be last, or the poorest and outcast must come before the richest and the elite. Their reaction was dismay, disgust, and eventually fear. Here was someone who obviously knew enough to be teaching others, even though they didn’t agree with him, yet he didn’t respect the boundary between Rabbi and student. Here was someone who they had heard being called the Son of Man and Son of God, yet he spent time with who they thought were unredeemable sinners, rejected by God. Here was someone who empowered the people that the religious leaders worked hard to keep at the very edges of society, threatening their basis for power and authority. This Jesus defied understanding, defied the natural order of things that kept them above everyone else, and defied the very laws that kept order in Jewish society. Something had to be done about this radical way of behaving that threatened everything they had worked for.
And so, the religious authorities whipped up the people, made the Romans uneasy, and disgraced Jesus in their eyes by executing him like a common criminal. Except that they didn’t, because Jesus had cut off that possibility by acting out his words. The Son of God humbled himself as he washed the dirt off of his follower’s feet in full humility. He had put them first and himself last, lifting them up from their ordinary daily life to be cherished and wanted by God. There was no prestige and no arrogance for the Romans to attack, which served to strengthen Jesus’ real self and authority in the eyes of the world. In that act of foot washing, Jesus showed his disciples that by washing their feet, there was no task too menial, no activity that was beneath them when it was an act of loving service. And by choosing to serve the needs of anyone, especially the forgotten and the outcast, they were immune from being humiliated or despised themselves by the authorities, the Romans, or anyone else.
In time, the followers of Christ became known to the world because of their love for each other, and for those around them. Out of that love came servanthood, performed in humility in many forms. As time has passed between then and now, that humble service of putting the needs of others before our wants has taken on many other forms. Even though our world would be inconceivable to the earliest Christians, our acts of servanthood would be recognizable to them because of the spirit in which they are performed. My acts of servanthood in the research lab were unrecognized because they seemed out of place, unexpected, and perhaps a little threatening because they quietly challenged the power structures and assumptions about who should do what. There was a disconnect between the boundaries set by authority and prestige and boundaries set by needs.
It is when we do the most menial things to fulfill a need, give up our place for someone else, or give our place in the world to someone in need that we come closest to God and closest to being Christ-like. We have nothing to lose but our pride when we make ourselves lower than someone who lives lower that we do. We have everything to gain from God when we elevate someone to our level or above. This is the paradox that Jesus presented to the world. It scares us because we have to trust that he was right. It scares us because we fear losing our worldly wealth and position. But it is in that moment of switching places that we are freed from the bounds and limits of the world, and can be who we truly are without shame or concern. We are freed from our worldly wealth and position to be who God made us to be. We are freed to enter into a holy relationship between us, God, and the world.
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Many years ago, when I worked in biomedical research, I was the lab technologist, handyman, purchasing agent, and data analyst. I juggled my responsibilities and kept the lab running and helping the post-doctoral students with their projects. I never said no to them or the faculty, only “Let me see when I have time.” I was relied upon as much as I depended on them to teach me what I needed to know. At the end of the day, I normally walked down the hall to the business manager’s office to ask if she (or anyone else) needed anything else from me before I left. Most of the time the answer was no, but occasionally there was, and I stayed until I got it done.
I left that lab for another one with new people and very different relationships between the faculty, the business manager, and the technicians like me. For the first two or three weeks, I continued my habit of walking down to the business manager’s office to ask if there was anything more she needed from me that day. She was at first taken aback that I was asking, and then became put-off as time went on. I also continued my habit of taking care of certain things in the new lab that we were building that I had taken care of before, only to be told that it wasn’t my responsibility. I had the impression that she and the lab director felt that I was doing things that were beneath my job description. I abandoned my habits, and stuck to what I was asked to do. Nothing more.
Jesus shocks Peter when he ties a towel around his waist and starts to wash his feet. Peter’s response is an indication of the relationship that he and Jesus had: Jesus was the Rabbi, the teacher, and Peter was the student, trying hard (and often failing) to understand who Jesus was and what he was teaching. To Peter, Jesus was the Son of God, far above him in understanding the world, God, and how to live between God and the world. Like the other disciples, Peter could only catch glimpses of what Jesus saw, comprehend fragments of what Jesus knew, and stumble as he tried to follow Jesus’ example of living faithfully. To have Jesus wash his feet was as unimaginable as a college professor asking to wash their student’s laundry. But as Jesus was explaining why he was doing this, Peter pushed for more. He asked that Jesus wash his head and hands as well. Jesus’ response sets a boundary, a limit on what is necessary in light of Peter’s shocked confusion and request for more of Jesus’ attention.
Jesus’ foot washing is a culmination and conclusion to what he had been saying all along. The religious authorities were angered when he said that the first must be last, or the poorest and outcast must come before the richest and the elite. Their reaction was dismay, disgust, and eventually fear. Here was someone who obviously knew enough to be teaching others, even though they didn’t agree with him, yet he didn’t respect the boundary between Rabbi and student. Here was someone who they had heard being called the Son of Man and Son of God, yet he spent time with who they thought were unredeemable sinners, rejected by God. Here was someone who empowered the people that the religious leaders worked hard to keep at the very edges of society, threatening their basis for power and authority. This Jesus defied understanding, defied the natural order of things that kept them above everyone else, and defied the very laws that kept order in Jewish society. Something had to be done about this radical way of behaving that threatened everything they had worked for.
And so, the religious authorities whipped up the people, made the Romans uneasy, and disgraced Jesus in their eyes by executing him like a common criminal. Except that they didn’t, because Jesus had cut off that possibility by acting out his words. The Son of God humbled himself as he washed the dirt off of his follower’s feet in full humility. He had put them first and himself last, lifting them up from their ordinary daily life to be cherished and wanted by God. There was no prestige and no arrogance for the Romans to attack, which served to strengthen Jesus’ real self and authority in the eyes of the world. In that act of foot washing, Jesus showed his disciples that by washing their feet, there was no task too menial, no activity that was beneath them when it was an act of loving service. And by choosing to serve the needs of anyone, especially the forgotten and the outcast, they were immune from being humiliated or despised themselves by the authorities, the Romans, or anyone else.
In time, the followers of Christ became known to the world because of their love for each other, and for those around them. Out of that love came servanthood, performed in humility in many forms. As time has passed between then and now, that humble service of putting the needs of others before our wants has taken on many other forms. Even though our world would be inconceivable to the earliest Christians, our acts of servanthood would be recognizable to them because of the spirit in which they are performed. My acts of servanthood in the research lab were unrecognized because they seemed out of place, unexpected, and perhaps a little threatening because they quietly challenged the power structures and assumptions about who should do what. There was a disconnect between the boundaries set by authority and prestige and boundaries set by needs.
It is when we do the most menial things to fulfill a need, give up our place for someone else, or give our place in the world to someone in need that we come closest to God and closest to being Christ-like. We have nothing to lose but our pride when we make ourselves lower than someone who lives lower that we do. We have everything to gain from God when we elevate someone to our level or above. This is the paradox that Jesus presented to the world. It scares us because we have to trust that he was right. It scares us because we fear losing our worldly wealth and position. But it is in that moment of switching places that we are freed from the bounds and limits of the world, and can be who we truly are without shame or concern. We are freed from our worldly wealth and position to be who God made us to be. We are freed to enter into a holy relationship between us, God, and the world.
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