Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Holy Thursday . . . so many feet to wash . . .

Holy Thursday ~ God in an Apron!

 A Prayer for Washing Feet by Macrina Wiederkehr
(from Seasons of Your Heart)

Jesus, is it really you kneeling before me with the bowl of water in your hands? I’d feel more comfortable if we could trade places. I wouldn't mind kneeling before you, but you before me? I can’t let you love me that much. Your piercing eyes suddenly heal my pride. I’m able to accept your gift of love and I am blessed. O Gift Giving God, I blush with the memory of gifts I've refused because they weren't given my way.

God in an Apron by Macrina Wiederkehr
(from Seasons of Your Heart)

Supper was special that night. There was both a heaviness and a holiness hanging in the air. We couldn't explain the mood. It was sacred, yet sorrowful.  Gathered around that table eating that solemn, holy meal seemed to us the most important meal we had ever sat down to eat.

We were dwelling in the heart of mystery. Though dark the night, hope felt right as if something evil was about to be conquered. And then suddenly the One we loved startled us all. He got up from the table and put on an apron. Can you imagine how we felt?

 God in an apron! Tenderness encircled us as He bowed before us. He knelt and said, “I choose to wash your feet because I love you.” 

God in an apron, kneeling. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was embarrassed until his eye met mine.  I sensed my value then. He touched my feet. He held them in his strong, brown hands. He washed them. I can still feel the water. I can still feel the touch of his hands. I can still see the look in his eyes.

The he handed me the towel and said, “As I have done so you must do.” Learn to bow – Learn to kneel. Let your tenderness encircle everyone you meet. Wash their feet not because you have to, because you want to.

It seems I've stood two thousand years holding the towel in my hands, “As I have done so you must do,” keeps echoing in my heart.

 “There are so many feet to wash,” I keep saying. “No,” I hear God’s voice resounding through the years, “There are only my feet – what you do for them you do for me.”

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