John 13:1-17 on March 1st, 2026
Above is audio of the sermon pulled from the video and amplified.
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Doesn't it seem a bit early to be doing this whole last night with Jesus' thing? Maybe yes, for our calendar, but for the gospel of John, we are finally getting to the whole point of the story. Last week, with the raising of Lazarus, we closed the first part of John's narrative. Chapters one through twelve covered three whole years of Jesus' ministry. But today, we start with chapter 13, and the remaining nine or so chapters, I'll take place over three days. While we normally experience Jesus' last moments during Holy Week this year, we will live that passion story through the entire season of Lent. The cross is in clear view.
And with that background and us starting our lesson by reading Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world, we hear that Jesus washes feet. So what does this story mean? What does this story show us? Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. It is a story of love and service. And we can tell that it's about love and service because Jesus doesn't follow any formula or etiquette book. His actions are irregular, odd, out of sync with how things are normally done. And this shows that Jesus is doing it on purpose, with intentional meaning behind it.
And several things stand out because of how Jesus washes feet. First, the normal practice of the time was for people to wash their own feet. A host would provide a basin of water, sure, but the actual cleaning was done yourself. If one were rich enough to have slaves or servants, then they might do it for the guests, but this isn't just a the lower washes the higher's feet custom. You had to be very, very low on the societal scale to be the foot washer. But Jesus flips it. Second, the foot washing would happen as soon as the guests arrived. It's akin to our, may I take your coat as the people arrive to your party. But Jesus waits. Everyone is already at the table, ready to eat. But Jesus purposely disrupts the flow to wash feet. Third, this should be a simple, unobtrusive thing, something that happens in the background, so as to not distract from the food or conversation at the table. But instead, Jesus makes a scene with a wardrobe change and goes around the table talking, drawing attention.
And when he's done, he acknowledges that he has broken protocol. You call me teacher and Lord, yet I have washed your feet. He does this as an example for them to follow. I am your teacher. I am teaching you. This is what it looks like to love. It's all very different. There is something too intimate, too vulnerable, too uncomfortable about the way that Jesus does this. Which is why Peter acts the way he does. You'll never wash my feet. Peter wants to keep things normal, safe, predictable, and traditional terms. Jesus is showing Peter outside the box, love, but Peter questions it. Refuses to let Jesus do it, at least at first. And I think Peter's reaction is something that we can relate to.
Which leads me to ask, what does it mean to let Jesus love us? Not just in theory, not just make it kind of true, not just singing Jesus loves me every so often, but really. Really feel it, really know it, really let Jesus love us. Because we know everything about ourselves. And the obvious analogy is feet. We know what's calloused, what is hurting, what is stinky, where the bunions of our life are. I'm sure we do a good job of covering it up, but underneath our fancy shoes we still got feet. Stinky, dirty, hurting feet. We know. And for sure, we don't want Jesus or anyone near our feet, our real selves, not that part. What does it mean to let Jesus love us?
And yet Jesus washes. Jesus knows. Jesus doesn't follow a formula or an etiquette book. He breaks the normal protocol when it comes to loving us. And all the irregularities show that Jesus loves on purpose with intentional meaning. Through washing, through serving, through dying, through giving himself to being raised again. The way that Jesus goes about life and death draws so much attention to the fact that this is done out of love. It can be hard to let Jesus love us in such a self-conscious, close kind of way. Yet even the parts that we consider the most unworthy, most stinky, most hidden, even if we are defiant and won't let Jesus love us, somehow Jesus finds a way. Jesus stoops down, takes hold of those things that we are embarrassed by, and he tells us, not even this keeps me from loving you. Not even this keeps away God's embrace, not even this. And that type of love changes us. It's humbling in the truest sense. It frees us from that exhausting work of pretending. When you have been loved like that, you don't have to fight it anymore. When Jesus serves you, you are finally free for something better, free to serve.
In Washington, Jesus shows us something about power and weakness, about service, and care about loving our neighbors. I wonder how our conflicts would end if we reached for a towel instead of reaching for weapons. Shots fire, going nuclear, words that cut like a knife. I wonder how ministry would look if we did things the way that Jesus did them, not keeping our clean, orderly norms, but seeking holy disruptions to intentionally show love. I wonder how disagreements would change if instead of standing above to prove a point we lowered ourselves to serve. Because when you're down on your knees, you see things differently. That is what Jesus teaches. That is what Jesus shows us. That is what Jesus does.
So that question, what does it mean to let Jesus love us? Maybe it's the wrong question. Because it isn't finally about whether we lit him. It's about the fact that Jesus loves us anyway. And he has unconventional ways of helping us to see it, to know it, to feel it. God is not daunted by our brokenness. God is not offended by the parts that we can't stand. In Jesus, God breaks the protocols. God crosses the norms. God bends down to lift us up. God loves in ways that we do not expect, and frankly in ways that we do not deserve. But that is the way that Jesus lives, and that is the story that John tells. All of John is the story of God's love for the world. And in John 13, that love is made tangible. The Lord of glory kneeling at your feet, washing you, and saying, not even this will keep me from you. May God love us so much that we can't help but go and do likewise.
Amen.