My Maundy Thursday Moment

So I was headed to Maundy Thursday service excited to watch a couple of my youth read the gospel to our congregation. Jokingly I walked into the narthex talking to the kids about how they should read their roles. They young man reading the part of Jesus thought I would be a good idea to do it with a Middle Eastern accent, the only flaw in that plan was that he sounded like he was from India and was more Apu than A Jew.

Yet I digress, the reason my heart called me to write was during service we had a moment were our community washed each other’s feet. A remembrance of the moment Christ knelt before his disciples and in the second greatest act of humility was a servant. Showing the world that, though he was the king of kings and lord of lords, he must serve before all the world. My heart yearns to do exactly as Christ asks me, but I don’t always remember that.

So as I was preparing to serve someone by washing their feet a little hand grabbed mine.  A blond haired pastors daughter looked up at me and smiled. I gestured towards the chair and said, “Would you like to have a seat?” She shrugged her shoulders and hopped into the chair with a thud. As I knelt on one knee and slowly poured the warm water over her tiny feet I felt my heart jump. I living the life God called me to through the gifts he gave me. This moment was perfect. I am called to serve the youth of my congregation and the world. In this moment I felt complete, I felt whole. When God has strengthened you with gifts, no one can feel complete or whole  until you actively use those gifts to better the world.

That wasn't even the best part. After taking the beige towel and drying her little feet something unexpected happened. She jumped up out of the chair with a big toothy smile and said, “your turn”.  I have to admit I was caught off guard. I wasn't expecting these little tiny hands that gripped mine only moments ago to attempt to lift my giant, pro basketball-esk, feet and pour water over them. Yet that is exactly what happened. I sat in the chair watching these tiny hands lift me up and wash the feet of the one who thought he was called to serve. It is a very powerful moment when a servant is treated like a king by those whom they love and adore. The moment hit me in the chest like a cinder-block.

So here I stand, simply at the foot of the cross. Remembering the King, who washed the feet of those whom he loved. I can only imagine what must have been going through the hearts of those who were being served in such a humble way, by the lord our God. There are very few things in this world that can change a heart. A sunrise upon a mountain top, finding forgiveness for a grieves offence, but of all the moments of this world. Finding one who is King, whom is worshiped, looked up to, idolized, powerful, and willing to kneel before others, is the most powerful person on the planet. Christ is the standard to which we attempt to live a full life. If this is truly a calling then we are all called to serve, to give of ourselves to the world that may not thank us, may not accept us, or even respect us. In turn we also have to allow ourselves the humility to let others serve us. When our feet are dirty, when our heart is breaking, when our will power is not enough, allow the lord and his servants help. Allow yourself to need someone else. It is not weakness to be served, it is weakness to deny that you need help. So when I saw those little hands lift my feet I was reminded that no hand is too small to serve and no person is too big to be humbled.