If you knew your time on earth would soon be coming to a close, what would you say or do differently?
It's a question one might be called to ponder. My thoughts usually go right to the offenses I have committed and the time I've wasted in them, or the things I've left undone; I rarely get past them to any ideas of the "above and beyond."
In the thirteenth chapter of John's Gospel, I can almost hear the clock ticking. I think John did as well, which is, perhaps, why the Holy Spirit tasked him with recording Jesus' final moments of "normalcy" with His disciples. In John 13, He is not agonizing in a garden; His friends are not looking up at His brutalized and naked body as He draws His last shallow breaths. They are simply doing life as they have for three years before, and we are given the precious gift of a window into those relationships. It begins with verse 1:
Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His hour had come that He should depart from this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.
To the end. Even as He died. For eternity. To the full. The tool of repetition John uses here --Having loved them...He loved them --is meant to indicate a perfection of His love for them; utterly, utterly forever.
The next ten verses, Jesus washing His disciples' feet, are often spoken about in terms of Jesus' servanthood, His great willingness to wash the feet of His betrayer, and the theological teaching behind the bathing and the washing of believers. But what do these verses mean in terms of His personal relationships?
Imagine yourself at a birthday party. Of course, foot washing is not a normal part of Western culture but think of the guest of honor schlepping coats to the bedroom, serving hors d'oeuvres, and flying around the kitchen --not hurried, but jubilant --getting the prime rib from the oven and putting the finishing touches on the cake. What can I do to serve you? to make your evening more enjoyable? to connect with you on a personal level before the night is over? I know I'm oversimplifying --there was so much more to the holy day they were celebrating and its connection to the events that were soon to transpire --but I want you to consider the difference in how Jesus' disciples received His intimate act of kindness toward them. Of course, we're only told of Peter's response, but did anyone else wriggle with discomfort in their seat? Did two or more exchange glances, wondering if something should be said? Did they look into His eyes, try to think of something to say, or uncomfortably look away? What thoughts ran through Judas' mind? Jesus knew them all. As He cradled each man's foot, as He knelt before them, He knew --maybe because He is God, maybe because He loved them so perfectly.
Jesus' time with His disciples face-to-face, was coming to an end. He was compelled to give them this message. Of His tender love for them, one Human to another. Of the importance of servitude and humility. Of the willingness to forgive even before one is wronged. Of washing again and again under the restorative waters of our Savior's love. Of moments of silence and, perhaps, a little discomfort for the sake of shared experiences among brothers.
How often did these men look back and recall this message? As the unstoppable events of the following hours rolled in like a stone, threatening, but for God, to crush everything in their path, did they think back to the gentleness of their Friend, kneeling before them, urging them to pay attention and receive? Did they wish they'd been more present? As they grieved and trembled in fear throughout the Sabbath, did they wonder why their Hope had washed their feet rather than fled the city? He had such little time left! Did He do with it all that He could?
Of course He did.




