Today is the beginning of Passover. Last night our family read the Old Testament story about when God “passed over” the blood-stained homes of the Jews. A lamb had been the provision of escape for His chosen people. We then switch to the New Testament story in which Jesus celebrates Passover with His Disciples.
Here is the excerpt from the Jesus Storybook Bible that had my children rolling with laughter in a not so funny story:
“Jesus and his friends were having the Passover meal together in an upstairs room. But Jesus’ friends were arguing. What about? They were arguing about stinky feet. Stinky feet? Yes, that’s right. Stinky feet. (Now the thing about feet back then was the people didn’t wear shoes. They only wore sandals, which might not sound unusual except that the streets were dirty – and I don’t mean just dusty dirty – I mean really stinky dirty. With all the cows and horses everywhere, you can imagine the stuff on the street that ended up on their feet!)”
Why did Jesus voluntarily do such a chore?
Do you think He needed to be reminded?
We talk about what it means when Peter asks Jesus to not just wash his feet but “ALL OF ME.”
We pray together and ask God how he wants us to respond to this story...which leads us to today’s Holy Week activity.
Lily told her brothers about an activity we had done on our missions trip to Malawi. We had washed the feet of the African ministry leaders who tirelessly serve those in the villages. We were there for 10 days but these faithful servants spent EVERY day feeding and ministering to the needs of the poor. They are truly the hands and feet of Jesus, and we were humbled with tears for the privilege of “washing their feet”.
My children select a beloved teacher who has touched each of our lives in a special way.
They get a bowl and some towels.
Campbell comes to me with a handful of random travel-sized shower gels, “Which of these is the most expensive?” We study them and are certain by the smell we had found the most precious.
Ding Dong at the teacher’s door. Hugs are given. Chairs and towels are laid out. Hot water is added to the bowl.
They wash. They dry. They lotion.
I’m convicted for all the stinky feet I didn’t want to wash; for the times I grumbled allowing another to compensate for my selfishness. Not just my feet Lord, ALL of me.