I am sensitive about my feet.
I keep them covered in shoes most of the time. It might
sound funny for a runner to be concerned what her feet look like, but runners’
feet are seldom pretty. Mangled toenails and blisters, and callouses just don’t
look good. For as great as running is for the rest of your body, it can be
really hard on feet. As runners feet go, mine aren’t bad, but as normal
people’s feet go… let’s just say I prefer closed toed shoes.
Which is why I always feel a sense of discomfort when Holy
Thursday rolls around. The ritual of foot washing is simultaneously the most
challenging and rewarding part of that service for me. I am always hesitant to
walk my bare runners feet up to a foot washing station and place them in the
hands of someone else. This part of me I usually keep covered up is now exposed
blisters and all.
This year, as a friend of mine poured warm water over my
feet and dabbed them dry with a white, terry cloth towel, I thought about why
this ritual is so powerful, if only we can muster up the courage to go through
with it.
This part of us is usually thought of as stinky and dirty. Our
feet work every day to carry us around. And then we sit, with awkward, funny
looking feet exposed and let someone wash them for us. Talk about vulnerable. It’s
really hard to invite someone else to love the parts of us we can’t quite bring
ourselves to love. The parts we perceive as weak or ugly or not as good as
others, somehow. We are content to cover those parts up and forget they exist.
Then Jesus had to go and say, “Let me wash your feet.” He had to say, “Let
me love that part of you, too.”
It is so uncomfortable to bring those perceived weaknesses
to light, and humbling to let someone else see them--let alone wash them clean.
Running the next day, I was so grateful for my feet. They
have carried me thousands of miles over my life. They have been beat up,
bruised, and missing toenails and healed to carry me more miles. I thought
about other areas of my life I usually try to cover up, the other weaknesses or
parts of my life that just don’t seem quite good enough or pretty enough. What
if I acknowledged those things for being an important part of me too? The way
they have been a part of my journey as much as the things I am proud of?
What would happen if I gave others a chance to see and love
those parts, the way I did with my feet on Holy Thursday?
It’s certainly a risk. But then you never know. Our
vulnerability might be met with warm water, a soft towel, a gentle touch and
the care we fail to give ourselves. Letting our weakness show as much as our
strength is not only a way to receive love, it provides others the opportunity
to love us.
Mandatum means commandment. Jesus says, “Love one another as
I have loved you.” That’s the commandment, the mandatum, we celebrate on Holy
Thursday. Love one another—may we be able to appreciate and love each other’s
weakness, and remember that part of that is sharing our own. As I have loved
you. May we also remember that those parts we might be ashamed of are loved and sacred, too.
This is holy ground. Let us honor it by taking off our shoes
once in awhile.
