Washing Your Feet I'm just hopeful that nobody had any weird foot diseases. Athlete's foot, eww. Since I was the 2nd last one to put my foot into the washing bowl, I have a lot to worry about.

You see, last night as part of my Christian men's group we did something with very little social relevance nowadays: we washed one another's feet. We coupled each foot washing with words of encouragement and a few minutes of prayer as we laid our hands on the man's back.

I suppose that kind of thing is weird sounding to the average Joe, but it was a good and memorable time. It takes a lot of humbleness both to wash a foot or to even let your own foot get washed. In the present age, letting another dude grab your foot and wash it is, well, awkward. I also don't know many people that would think "Hey, let me rub your bunion-riddled and corn-covered crusty heel and toes." (Thankfully nobody had feet that gross).

I think a lot of people know the story where Jesus washed the apostles feet (and they objected because that was a servants job, not their master's job. That sacrifice and humbleness was just a glimpse into the sacrifice and humbleness a God was about to take by allowing iron nails and some wood to take the life of the same being that flung stars into distant galaxies. His feet washing was paralleling the washing of our sins away. For the 0.007% of you that will get this reference, it was like the Scouring of the Shire at the end of the Lord of the Rings book in that it was a tiny paralleled version of a bigger story.

I don't usually make very religion-oriented posts, but yesterday was enough out of the ordinary that I thought I'd make an out of the ordinary post about it.

Labels: Christianity, feet

  ¶ 3:32 PM