We went to a middle school track meet the other night; an event that I consider the secular equivalent of a visit to Limbo. It involves a lot of purgatorial waiting around for something to happen, and there is very little information about when you can leave. It was a four hour meet, and our kid ran the 200 meter dash. It took him 27 seconds. That gave us a good three hours and 59 minutes to work up some major enthusiasm. We cheered like maniacs, because it’s all about pacing oneself. It’s all about getting ready for the big show.
“Maundy Thursday” is (I think) one of the odder phrases of the Lenten season. I suppose that “Maundy Monday” might have a better ring to it, but in the Christian Lenten season, timing is of the essence. The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin for command (mandatum) and is usually tied to the new command given by Jesus at the Last Supper. Two of the more commonly recognized ceremonies of the Christian Church are associated with Maundy Thursday: 1) the Eucharist, or communion, and 2) foot washing. Despite the rather maudlin sound of a word like “Maundy,” this word commemorates ceremonies that are joyful. The “other” ceremony established and celebrated on this day is that of foot washing. The Latin word for the washing of the feet is pedilavium, and the moment I think it’s my favorite word.
Offering a basin of water for foot washing was a common sign of hospitality in biblical times. People walked from place to place, the dirt roads were dusty, and their feet probably got filthy in their sandals. The Maudy-Thursday story of Jesus’ washing the disciples feet is radically different; it is a ceremony, an act of humility and love that exceeds that of mere hospitality.
I have actually developed a deeper appreciation for ceremony since I have been here at Bering Memorial. This is a congregation that LOVES ceremony. We don’t do foot washing at each service, but we do practice pre-Eucharistic hand washing. It’s obviously not at all about pastoral sanitation, as there is no soap or other anti-bacterial product involved. It’s about the ceremony. As a matter of fact, if I were ever going to find a Methodist church that practiced capitalavium, or the washing of the head, this would be it. Capitalavium used to take place on Palm Sunday. I suppose it would be a logistical nightmare, but I can just see us lined up for shampoos at the altar, and then waving each other’s hair dry with palm fronds.
We don’t practice the washing of each other’s feet at our house, but we do practice ceremonial toenail painting. About seven years ago, the oldest kids in our family decided that my toenails were in need of assistance. They both had huge containers of multiple colors of toenail polish, and they went to work. I offered my toebula rosa (I’m quite pleased with myself right now) as a canvas. I was instructed not to look until the toenail renovation was completed.
This tradition has continued for the last seven years, and the toenail painters are now nineteen and seventeen. The nineteen year old does intricate designs with toothpicks. During the Christmas season I was sporting some fine looking toe holly. If she ever decides to dump her engineering studies, she can get a job drawing on a grain of rice.
I’ve never paid a lot of close attention to toe artwork because I am fairly tall and my toes are a long way off. I’m not getting any younger, so I can’t see them particularly well, and actually touching them during any sort of exercise is pretty much out of the question. What I have enjoyed the most is the ceremony of it all, the wonder of watching the artists at work.
Most of us have feet that are functional, but not particularly attractive. When I read, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” I wonder how anyone’s feet can be considered beautiful. It is a confirmation of the richness of our potential, the ability that Christ has to see in us what we may be unable to see in ourselves. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news.
May we find wonder and richness in all of the small ceremonies of our lives. May we find holiness in giving our children baths, reading them books, and waiting at track meets. May we learn to look at each other with the eyes of Christ, eyes that see the beauty and potential in feet – even toenails.
Read: John 13:1-17
Isaiah 52: 7-12
Romans 10: 14-17
What ceremonies of the Christian Church are most meaningful to you? Why?
What ceremonies of your life have meaning for you?
If Martin Luther had had his way, foot washing would be the third Protestant sacrament because Jesus did or ordered it. To bad he didn’t get his way. In John, the problem was that people did not want to wash others’ feet; today, curiously, the situation is reversed and the aversion is to having one’s feet washed by another.
I like the idea of head washing . . .
From the October 2005 vesper service before Beth Stroud’s Judicial Council hearing, in which she had her credentials revoked.
. . .
PROCLAMATION AND RESPONSE
. . .
THE SECOND LESSON Romans 10:11–15
Scripture says, “No one who believes in God will be put to shame.” Here there is no difference between Jew and Greek; all have the same Creator, rich in mercy toward those who call: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Most High will be saved.” How then can they call on the One in whom they have not believed? And how can they believe in the One about whom they have not heard? And how can they hear if no one preaches to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As scripture says, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring the Good News.”
Lector: The Word of God.
People: Thanks be to God who has called Beth
Stroud to bring the Good News of Jesus.
RESPONSE TO THE WORD Beautiful are the Feet
Messiah (Part III)
Georg Frideric Handel
Nancy Hall, soprano
Toebula rosa: a la Napoleon Dynamite – “SWEET!”
My life’s greatest ceremony is akin to last week’s meditation on self-discipline: although I may occasionally prefer to sleep in, it is far more ceemonial to spirit-walk through the early morning hours and greet each new day with God, singing birds, sun rays and my lover.
My life’s greatest church ceremony is participating as a leader in worship, especially the act of offering communion. On serving the wine, I say to each child of God, “The Love of the New Covenant, given to you this day.” When I receive communion, I pray with the bread “We are loved” and I pray with the wine “We are to love.” I like to stand during communion. I stand with the Risen Christ.
Art and iconographic imagery of Christ’s crucifixion too often focus on the crown of thorns, or the spear in the side, or the nails through hands / wrists. His feet, too, were nailed; but in preceding days, these feet were anointed with an exotic perfume and dried in the hair of Mary from Bethany.