Dirty Feet

Remember the story where Jesus washes his disciples feet?  It can be found in John 13.  Jesus performs this symbolic act on the night he is betrayed to his crucifixion and death.

This may be silly, just a way I have found to identify a tiny bit more with the Bible, but I will share anyway.  This summer I have trekked around Camp Michindoh, hiked through the Black Forest, and strolled through the sandy beach.  The majority of the summer, my feet have been clad in flip-flops, or nothing at all.  My feet have toughened up this summer, and almost on a daily basis, I found myself in the same predicament as the first century followers of Jesus:

Clean body, dirty feet.

“The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean…”

This makes sense to me, experientially and intellectually.  Easy enough.  But the larger point of the story is one I must work on enacting.  As Jesus washed the feet of his followers, as I assume He would have washed my feet multiple times this summer, so are we also to wash one another’s feet (John 13:14) in service and humility.

God, show me the dirty feet.  Help me wash them.

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About rd734467

I am a seeker. A doer. An encourager. One who loves. One who longs to be loved. One who desperately yearns to make a difference in this world.
This entry was posted in Limping After Christ, Theological Reflections and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Dirty Feet

  1. Alan Webb says:

    Stay strong. Making a difference is a tough choice. I’m 56. I flipped off my Dad at age 19 and set off on the hero’s quest. It’s been good. Rough, but good. I found your post through Google Image Search. Keep going. You are making a difference.

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