Stinky Feet

Of all of our body parts that we can boast or complain about, I don't think I have ever heard any say, 

"I LOVE my feet - wanna take a look??"  

More often than not, we are trying to do what we can to cover them up, or in the warmer months, disguising them in color so as to avert any eyes from noticing the details.  But, its just those details that I am pondering today.  

You might say I've had a foot fetish the past couple weeks.  It all started with the story of Mary anointing Jesus' feet with extravagant scent, and washing his feet with her hair.   I have taught this story many times to many ages.  My classes have made "nard", smelled all kinds of things, talked about noses, etc.  We have joked about stinky feet.  My favorite was when boys donned a Hannah Montana wig and acted out the scene.  It's a great story of love.

Now here we are at Maundy Thursday - a day to celebrate the Last Supper..but also that moment when Jesus washed the feet of his disciples.  Such a simple act with such a powerful message.

Here's the thing I can't seem to stop thinking about.    When you wash someone's feet, you HAVE to get up close.  You see the details.  The washer has to either bend over to reach, and come face-to-toe.  Or, the washer might lift a foot off the ground and hold it in a lap?  The logistics may vary, but there is no avoiding the fact that you WILL see the foot and every blemish and bunion on it.  It is a very intimate act.

Today, I was able to participate in a prayer service where over 500 students, teachers, staff and parents took turns washing and drying each others' hands (logistics being what they are, feet are hard to do in that great a number).  I stood back for a bit just watching, and even with just hands you can see the emotions that folks experience submitting to others for this humble act.  Some folks were just plain uncomfortable having others do unto them.

Cause, it's not just about the "footwasher" and the show of love that it represents.  As the receiver of that cleansing, you make yourself vulnerable.  You let someone else see the details.  Jesus told his disciples that as he washed their feet, so they need to wash each others' feet.  And we as Christians are called to do the same.  This requires actions on both the giver and the receiver.  As receivers, we need to allow ourselves to become vulnerable;  to let others' see our details.  And as foot washers, we need to respect those that offer their feet to us, and accept them and love them  - bunions and all.

I don't think I have ever experienced a foot washing service in a church as part of worship, even as merely a dramatic demonstration.  I imagine logistically it can get messy.  Funny - my pastor last week referenced that we don't like some of the "messiness" of Holy Week.  He mostly meant the blood and gore of the crucifixion I think...but maybe the "messiness" of stinky feet is something else we just don't want to deal with??

Wishing everyone a blessed experience on this Holy Week journey.  

Reminder: Bring a disco ball to the party!

So - first a confession…I almost didn't go to church today.  I was going to go for Sunday School and scoot home after.  I was tired, had no other duties, and knew I'd be going to Sunday evening mass with the rest of the family.  But the truth is,  I just was not in a Palm Sunday mood and felt I'd be a drag.  

It's been a time when I find myself overwhelmed by the extreme trials of emotion and illness so many dear to me are experiencing.  Just this coming week alone I know several people who have to go through treatments that will leave them physically in quarantine.  Some unable to even be in the same room as their spouses and children for days.  And this, the holiest week of the year for Christians.  And yet, so many people made to be alone.

So, I had a heavy heart this morning - though I always try to have a happy face.  And then, God began to do his work…

• There was the church member who I saw go out of her way to welcome an obvious visitor who felt a bit uncomfortable - meeting a family member who had not yet arrived. My heart warmed at the reminder of how our church really does its best to welcome all in our midst - whether for a day or a "season".  We are not perfect, but we try.

• The 5 year old girl who admitted "she might be a little shy" when it was time to sing up front…though she has never been shy a day in her life.

• The parent who expressed gratitude for Sunday School and how much his child enjoys it.

• The boy who reminded us that we need to bring our disco balls if we are really going to have a fun party.

• The little girl who wanted to be by her brother's side and was an impromptu new member of the choir, and then continued to dance in the aisle for the remainder of the service.  Her mother worried about her being a distraction, but I saw the smiles she brought to all her watched her.

• The choir director who found a way to include a young boy in the morning's musical offering, even though he'd missed the practices...and the adult who sat next to him and helped him through the service…so that his parents could continue their service in the back hall way preparing the Easter food baskets that would be delivered to families in need.

The pastor got all "crazy" throwing palms around and making a mess.  He made us normally "composed" Presbyterians get all goofy waving our palms and making a joyful noise.  He also talked about next Saturday - that day when we are not sure what to feel.  I thought that maybe those folks who are suffering so much now probably feel like every day is Saturday.  It seems so dark with no hope.  I am comforted that many of the people suffering are faithful Christians, and I pray they will hold onto to hope of Easter like never before.  And I pray even harder for those who don't yet realize that this hope IS there, and that they realize, as my pastor said (slightly paraphrased), "God doesn't leave you at Saturday." 

Sunday IS coming.  Thanks be to God!