The Final Surprise

John 13

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already decided that Judas son of Simon Iscariot would betray Jesus. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from supper, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”

If you are a Christ-follower, you surely know this story. Perhaps you have even participated, either washing the feet of another, or of receiving this service yourself.

Certainly, you also understand that foot-washing was a common practice in my time, the time of Jesus. And, by the way, I was one of those at the table, one of those whose feet were washed by Jesus.

You may mistakenly believe that this service was commonly performed by a servant. And that was true in the Greek and Roman cultures. But in our world, it was different. You see, in our culture, a host would sometimes offer himself (or herself) to wash the feet of honored guests, a consummate act of hospitality. I mean, hospitality meant so much more to us than to our Roman occupiers.

And you may also assume that foot-washing was done primarily for hygienic purposes; however, that would also be mistaken. Because, you see, it was so much more: a symbolic act of not only hospitality, honoring your guests, but also as an act of humility. And I feel obliged to point out that in your century and in your culture, both hospitality and humility seem to have faded in importance.

Christ Washing the Feet of the Apostles by Meister des Hausbuches, 1475 (Gemäldegalerie, Berlin)

This dinner took place during Passover week. It should have been a festive time and in fact, for most of the pilgrims in Jerusalem, it was. But not for us, not in the least. You see, by now, we had finally come to accept what Jesus had been telling us all along: that he would be taken from us and brutally executed. Yes, he also added that God would raise him from the dead. But even so, we struggled with the necessity of his death, failing to understand why our God would require it. And of course, we also worried about the possibility that somehow, the actions of Jesus would put the rest of us at great personal risk.

In any case, our mood was not festive. It was, in fact, gloomy, not least because we finally understood that Jesus would soon be leaving us. His assurance of an “advocate” to replace him was not well received. In short, we wanted a leader in the flesh and we wanted Jesus. But of course, as we knew by now, there would be no way for any of us to dissuade him from obeying God’s plan.

You may wonder why I entitled this story “The Final Surprise.” Let me explain.

Jesus, of course, was always full of surprises. From the very beginning of our time following him, we learned to expect them: welcoming children, feeding multitudes, walking on water, giving sight to the blind, and standing up to the Pharisees. We often even discussed among ourselves how Jesus might surprise us next. Associating with prostitutes, Gentiles and Samaritans? He did that. Being transfigured into a radiant light? He did that too. Healing on the Sabbath? Yes, that too.

But I have to say that when Jesus took off his outer robe, wrapped a towel around his waist and began to wash our feet, we were shocked. In total silence, he worked his way around the room. That is, until he came to Peter.

Of course, Peter. If anyone was going to object, it would have to be Peter. You see, Peter saw himself as sort of a second-in-command to Jesus. So, as a result, Jesus’ act of hospitality and humility struck Peter as something that perhaps he should have done, as a demonstration of his leadership among us.

But Jesus would have none of Peter’s objections, as you know. And always the impulsive one, Peter quickly turned from objector to supplicant, requesting Jesus to wash him all over. You just have to love Peter!

It’s now years later. And in reflection, I can see so much hidden in this iconic act of Jesus, a depth of meaning that eluded me at the time. Actually, reflecting on Jesus can take a lifetime, considering all he said and did, and especially the deeper meanings of so much about him.

First, it truly was his final surprise. I mean, we didn’t expect it and we were taken totally off guard. And, you must understand, this act carried so much weight because it was, in fact, an action and not simply words. As he went around the room, mostly in silence I might add, we could allow both our minds and our hearts to absorb just what Jesus was doing.

We knew that our time with Jesus in the flesh was coming to an end. And in addition to giving us an example of hospitality and humility, his act of washing our feet reminded us of what he was all about: love. As John has written:

“Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.” 

And in this act, Jesus was also giving us his expectations of how we must love one another after he was gone. Again, here is what Jesus said:

“Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.”

But there was even more. You see, his act of washing our feet also confirmed to us that Jesus had washed us clean. As he told Peter: “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”

Yes, he had washed away our former lives and given us new lives in him, as he said, abiding in him. Later that evening he would go on to tell us that we are connected to him as branches are to a vine.

So, his reminder goes deep, penetrating our very souls as both an example and also as a symbol of our connectedness and of his role in washing us clean. If we don’t accept his washing, we have, as he said, “no share” with him.

And one final thing must be said, though it’s embarrassing for me to add this. You see, Jesus offered us his full hospitality in great humility, knowing all the while that one of us would betray him, another would deny him, and the rest of us would abandon him in his time of suffering. He did this on the eve of his own arrest, torture and execution. In so many words, he thought, not of himself, but of us.

Yes, he knew all of these things would happen, even before they did. And yet none of that stopped him from his final surprise, his profound act of hospitality and humility.