Today is traditionally called Maundy Thursday and has focused on such things as the sleeping disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, the anxious Jesus praying fervently, and of course the Last Supper that Jesus had with His disciples. The Last Supper has become communion, a sacrament in the Church that reminds us of what Christ did for us. It is central to the Church no matter which denomination.
Even though the old word “maundy” can literally mean “washing”, in my non-liturgical faith tradition you don’t see enough attention paid to the act of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. That’s an oversight and limits the power of the Jesus’ message.
Although I understand the importance of communion, it seems incomplete without the washing of feet. The washing of feet with towel and basin is a deliberate expression of humble love and servanthood. In my mind, the act of communion is tangibly reflected in the washing of the feet … the heart is expressed through the action.
Or look at it this way. Communion done well includes a healthy dose of introspection. We look for those things in our heart that creates the chasm between us and a divine God, then we seek forgiveness.
But if we stop there, we forget the importance of looking outward. We run the risk of a self-centered faith instead of one that considers others.
Thus the towel and basin are as central as the cup and bread. Both point us to community. Both model the call to love each other. Both require us to humble ourselves. Both speak of sacrifice. But one calls us to reflect, and the other calls us to act.
I love this simple story written by A.E. Whitham:
I was dreaming that I was treading the streets of the Holy City, pottering about like a tourist. In my wandering I came upon the museum of that city of our dream. I went in, and a courteous attendant conducted me round.
There was some old armour there, much bruised with battle. Many things were conspicuous by their absence. I saw nothing of Alexander’s, nor of Napoleon’s. There was no Pope’s ring, nor even the ink-bottle that Luther is said to have thrown at the devil, nor Wesley’s seal and keys.
I saw a widow’s mite and the feather of a little bird. I saw some swaddling clothes, a hammer and three nails, and a few thorns. I saw a bit of fishing-net and the broken oar of a boat. I saw a sponge that had once been dipped in vinegar, and a small piece of silver. But I cannot enumerate all I saw, nor describe all I felt.
Whilst I was turning over a common drinking cup which had a very honourable place, I whispered to the attendant, “Have you not got a towel and basin among your collection?”
“No,” he said, “not here; you see they are in constant use.”
Then I knew that I was in Heaven, in the Holy City, and amid the redeemed society. Knowing that He came from God and went to God … Jesus took a towel and basin.