Connecting with God through poetic articulations of lived, embodied experience–engaging texts from the Revised Common Lectionary for Christian churches, other biblical and spiritual texts, and evocations of the divine in rituals and other public events–always accepting lived reality as a primary source of divine revelation and mystery.

On Our Feet

Reflection on Holy Thursday, Year A

Moses told the Hebrews to prepare for their journey of liberation by eating prescribed food and marking their doors with the blood of lamb on which they feasted. They set off, on foot, through desert and sea to and throughout the land promised by God.

The ancients used their feet, just as we do— dirty, calloused, twisted, arthritic, gnarled, hard or soft, massaged with oil, too, sweet scented or not, smelly sweaty feet common— all sorts and conditions of human feet. on journeys called by God.

Now here is something very strange: Rabbi Jesus wants to wash our feet — even Peter’s, who, of course, objects as he always does. Is there ever a time when there is not at least one Peter in the group, one long ago offended by the idea of his Lord stooping to wash feet, like today’s recoiling at showing the imperfection of feet, even more at being asked to touch others’?

Today, on Passover, Jews everywhere, believers or not, gather to share bitter herbs, unleavened bread, greens, haroset, and lamb or substitute. Most Christians avoid Jesus when it comes to feet. Strange. So many ask, “What would Jesus do?” How about: what he did? Just not with feet.

A preacher said, “Jesus touched his heart and there was healing in his hands.” I want healed feet for miles ahead, years, I pray, of journeying with God. I need strong, resilient feet empowered to support journeys from my Egypts to new worlds promised again and again. I want company, too, I can’t make it alone. Let me bless yours with living water, sacred touch, our Jesus feet guiding us all the way together.

About this poem . . .Every year on Holy Thursday, I am deeply moved by the washing of feet. It is such a humble act—to allow my feet to be washed and to wash others’—so like Jesus to assume the role of servant and invite us to do the same. The invitation, I hear command, is to be agents of healing and to allow ourselves to be healed by the human touch of others.