Sacred foot washing . . .do this in memory of me!

Once upon a time when I was attending a Holy Thursday service at a nearby parish,  there were chairs set up in the aisles along with pitchers of water, basins, and towels.  So it was that when it came to the ritual of foot washing, everyone participated. I found myself entering into the movements and happenings with such emotion, I could feel it deep in my soul space. 

During this time, I watched husbands and wives washing each other’s feet, their children washing the feet of their parents. I saw sons and daughters washing the feet of their elderly parents. Children washing the feet of their siblings.  It was oh so moving that I cried throughout the whole experience, and especially as my feet were washed. What a powerful act of intimacy - an act of sacred touching, healing, welcoming, and forgiving

God in an Apron
Supper was special that night
There was booth a heaviness and a holiness
hanging in the air
We couldn't explain the mood
It was sacred, yet sorrowful.
Gathered around the 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 eyes 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.

Then 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.”
(Macrina Wiederkehr Seasons of Your Heart)