Prepared to serve - John 13:1-15, 34

The series was nominated for five Primetime Emmys. It ran for 8 seasons. It spawned a spin off mini series and years later returned for an additional two more seasons. It even inspired a European edition of the show hosted by a former pro soccer player. Dirty Jobs hosted by Mike Rowe became one of the most unexpectedly popular tv shows of this century. Week after week, viewers around the world tuned in to watch Mike as he stepped into yet another unbelievable line of work. One week he was scooping up roadkill along the highway. The next he was deep underground toiling away in a coal mine. The next he was waist-deep in the sewers or wrangling baby alligators. No job was too strange or too filthy for Mike.

But the real surprise of this show was the fascination with these dirty jobs. It sparked curiosity about all kinds of work that keep our society running almost completely under our radar. Viewers quickly realized that behind our clean homes, and safe streets and comfortable lives were countless people doing work that few would ever choose to do. Mike didn’t just talk about these jobs, he actually did them. He got dirty right alongside these workers. There’s something strangely compelling about watching someone willingly doing work that seems beneath them. Mike wouldn’t be the only one because we see the very same situation in our sermon text for this evening as Jesus washes the disciples feet. Jesus demonstrates that Christians are uniquely prepared to serve because having been served by Jesus we are eager to serve like Jesus.

It was the night he would be betrayed. Every passing moment brought him one second closer to the suffering he knew was coming. Yet on this night he gathers with his disciples to celebrate the Passover in fulfillment of the Jewish law. The Passover celebration was a reminder that sin had to be atoned for by the shedding of blood. The blood of the lamb that was painted on doorframes marked God’s people so that the angel of death would pass over their home. Each year Jews celebrated this meal in eager preparation for the Messiah, the true lamb who would take away the sin of the whole world. Now that very lamb sits at the table with his closest friends, his disciples, because as John reminds us “he loved them” even to the very end.

It was love that brought Jesus down to earth in the first place. Love had defined Jesus' entire ministry. Time and again Jesus had demonstrated love. Love to the diseased. Love to the dying. Love to the paralyzed. Love to the blind. Love to the outcast. Love to the outsider. Love to the beggar. Love to the tax collectors. Here, love to his own disciples. No act of social disgrace had yet barred him from demonstrating love. From no circumstance of life did Jesus shy away from others just because he held a higher status. Jesus' love drew him to sinners because Jesus loves sinners. So maybe we aren’t really all that surprised when Jesus stoops down and begins washing the, let’s just say ‘grime,’ off his disciples feet with his own hands. Scripture records, “He got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.”

Don’t misunderstand, foot-washing was a necessary thing. People at that time wore open-toed sandals and let’s face it, they didn't exactly have the modern systems and Mike Rowe to do their dirty jobs like we do today. Household waste was discarded outside into the front ditch. And their ‘means of transportation’ emitted ‘emissions’ as well. It was a dirty thing to step foot into the street. Foot washing was not a pleasant job to have. In fact, it was considered too menial for even a Jewish servant to do. Now are you beginning to understand the shock as Peter sees Jesus walking over with a bowl and towel.

Jesus was Peter’s rabbi. Certainly no student would stand to let his teacher wash his dirty feet. And so Peter skeptically asks, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet? Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet?” I can’t help but mention the Greek here. Peter’s response isn’t some half-hearted cliche, ‘oh Jesus, you shouldn’t have.’ Or, ‘you really don't need to do this for me.’ He says “Οὐ μὴ νίψῃς,” that’s as strong a denial as they come in the Greek language. No Jesus, you will never, no never ever, wash my feet. But beneath the disguise of humility lies something deeper, a refusal to be served by Jesus. Because the greatest offense to human pride is not being asked to serve but being told you need to be served. Peter cannot imagine needing his teacher to wash his feet? Nope, that’s wrong, it’s embarrassing and it’s unacceptable.

And if we are honest, we’d agree with Peter. We would much rather be the one doing the washing than being washed. We would rather be the ones helping than being helped. We would deny service ten times over before wounding our own pride to admit to our need. So we too say “No, I’m fine. I’ve got it all on my own. I don’t need your help or handout.” We disguise pride as humility when we resist the serving hands of Christ, denying our brothers and sisters the opportunity to serve us. We minimize our daily struggles. We refuse the offer of a home cooked meal. We decline the friendly invitations because deep down we don't want to let anyone into our needy lives lest they get a glimpse of our dirty feet. Because we know what dirty feet reveal. They reveal where we’ve walked. They reveal the grime that still clings to us. They reveal that we cannot on our own make ourselves clean again. Are we so filled with pride and ashamed of what others might think that we forget what our God sees? God sees the real you, not just the outward facade of merely dirty feet. He sees a sinful dirty heart that apart from his washing cannot be saved.

But Jesus doesn’t give up, he instructs Peter saying “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.” And once again, if that’s the case, then I’m with Peter. Lord, wash all of me! Why stop at my feet, wash my whole self! And he does. Come into this room of preparation on this Holy Thursday and see a glimpse of your Savior serving sinners, even the feet of sinners who once pridefully resisted his washing. But he doesn’t just serve those twelve sinners in that Upper Room. Follow him out as he journeys to a cross and there, see a Savior who serves you too. See the blood of the lamb poured out to mark you. Watch as he serves you with his very own life for the forgiveness of all your sins. Follow the women to the tomb and see the place where his lifeless body once lay to serve you the promise of a life beyond the grave as well. See his own body and blood still offered to serve you assurance that you dear Christian have been washed clean of the dirty stains of sin. See a Savior who does the dirty job so that you would be prepared for a new holy life in him. You are prepared to serve because you’ve first been served by Jesus!

And because he has served you, now, he sends you. As Jesus finishes washing his disciples feet he explains, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” The one to whom “the Father has given all authority” knelt with a bowl and a towel to wash dirty feet. No act of service, not even the lowliest servant's job, was beneath him. It wasn't beneath his title as teacher to their student. It wasn’t even beneath his title as Lord to their servant. Because godly status doesn't use it as a lazy excuse to avoid service. Should foot-washing have been beneath Jesus, absolutely. Couldn’t they have washed their own feet, yeah. But Jesus deliberately does the dirty job to model humble service. And humble service begins with love.

Jesus goes on in the final verse, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” They’d seen him do it for years. They’d heard his master class answer to the expert in the Law who tried to trap him saying, “Which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind… and the second is like it: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” The concept was nothing new but the measure of sincerity would soon redefine how we see love forever. Love, modeled after him, would be transformative. Love that washed the disciples' feet takes on a whole new meaning as he washes even the one who would soon betray him. And then, in just a few hours, love is shown to the absolute greatest extent ever shown, as the innocent lays down his life for the guilty, for us.

And again if we are honest, we ask, do we really have to love like that? ‘Do I really have to love them? They have closer friends, people with more time than I, because let's face it, I don't want to.’ Too often we choose to stand at a distance and talk about Jesus' love rather than jumping in and getting our hands dirty right alongside him. Jesus’ new command exposes how often our love is selective and purely conditional. God forgive our weak, half-hearted attempts at love. 

And he does, because Jesus never once had half-hearted love for you. He stepped into the mess of our lives, bore our sins and gave his own life on the cross for you and me. Even for the times we’ve failed to love others as he calls us to. It’s my prayer over these next few days that you may ponder the love of your serving Savior as we stand in awe at that cross and empty tomb. Being served like that naturally prepares us to serve like that.

So what does your dirty job look like? Well for starters, I would not go around asking to see and then wash other people's dirty feet, because today, that's just weird. So then how do we put Jesus' example of doing even the dirty jobs into practice? Well Mike Rowe made a career out of stepping into messy and unpleasant jobs, jobs that most would never choose to do. That was his daily calling, to scoop up roadkill, crawl into sewers and wrangle alligators. You and I, as forgiven children of God, have a calling to a career of service. You don’t need to be Mike Rowe to step into the messy work of serving others. We see dirty jobs that we‘re called to serve all around us. In our homes, in our workplaces, in our communities here in our own church. Maybe that is literally scrubbing the bathrooms. Maybe it’s covering for a coworker. Maybe it’s a listening ear. Maybe it’s building a connection with your neighbors. Maybe it’s volunteering your own time and resources to be a part of something good. Maybe it’s simply including others in your daily prayer. Serving like Jesus looks like stepping into all kinds of humble positions of service. It might be personally costly. It might be inconvenient. It might be humiliating. It might even go completely unnoticed to most. But rejoice, your heavenly Father sees what you do for even the least of these. He sees your willing hands doing dirty jobs in thanks to him and service to others.

May God bless us as we go and serve as hands for Jesus because having been served by him we are prepared to serve like him. Amen.