Washing Feet

Help us to see with new eyes

and hear with new ears

the story of shame and triumph,

suffering and hope, that this week reveals.

Mold us to be like Jesus, dying and rising with him.

In the name of Christ, our Lord, Amen. (from Boston Square's Palm Sunday prayer of confession)

We have a calendar of family photos hanging on the wall in our kitchen, and one of the pictures for the month of April is of our kids washing each other’s feet. We try to do this every year before Easter, and every year I have idealistic expectations of how it will go – that it will be calm and peaceful and the water will be warm and soothing. Instead, we often we fight about who will wash the feet of whom, I lose my temper, and the water gets cold and all over everyone’s pants. And somehow something holy still happens. This gesture of love, the vulnerability of kneeling and receiving touch, shapes us.

We try to do it each year, because it’s a way to enter into the story of Holy Week, a way of doing what Jesus did. And it seems particularly important this year to remember with our bodies, to experience with our senses, this sign of Jesus’ love for us.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like I concentrate very well these days, remember things very well these days, even pray with words particularly well these days. I need practices that involve my body. It’s easy with all of the distancing to feel that God is distant too. I need tangible experiences of God’s love. I need to remember my baptism as I wash my hands. I need to taste Jesus’ love with my mouth each week during communion. And this week, I need to wash feet and let my feet be washed.

For those of us who are alone, I encourage you to lovingly wash your own feet. This much aloneness is hard; this is a way to treat yourself with tenderness. Embody and receive Jesus’ love for you, for your feet, his compassion for your struggles in these days.

For those of us who are with others, I encourage you to lovingly wash one another’s feet. This much togetherness is hard; this is a way to treat one another with tenderness. Receive Jesus’ love for you, for your feet, his compassion for your struggles in these days. Embody this love and compassion for those you live with by washing their feet.

It might be awkward – the bending and kneeling, touching someone else’s feet or your own, feeling their callouses, smelling their smell. If things at our house go as they have in the past, there might be arguing over who gets to go first and who washes whose feet, the water might get cold. But that’s all the point – that Jesus loves us, loves our bodies, even our feet; that Jesus’ compassion extends to us in all of our struggles. And when we experience and embody Jesus’ love in these practical, tangible ways, it shapes us to be more and more like him.

Running the Race Before Us

Our first full day in Israel we visited Caesarea Maritima, the ruins of a city built by Herod the Great along the Mediterranean Sea. It became the Roman capital of Palestine and was where Pontius Pilate lived during the time of Jesus. It’s also where the Church Father Origen lived, and Eusebius, the first church historian lived there too.

One of the places in the city that has been uncovered and partially reconstructed is the hippodrome. A hippodrome is a large arena, with seats all around, used for chariot races and athletic competitions. This particular hippodrome is on the sea front, so some of the fans could see the water as well as the competition taking place in the arena. We sat in some of the seats for awhile and Pastor Bill Vanden Bosch described to us some of the pageantry that was part of a race, who might sit where, how a winner might be recognized and celebrated. We read aloud parts of Hebrews 11 – the stories of heroes of the faith – and these words from chapter 12:1-3 Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Pastor Bill invited us to think about some of our heroes of the faith, and to imagine them in the stands cheering us on, and then to walk or run a lap around the arena as a sign of our desire to press on, to persevere for Jesus’ sake. I found myself thinking about Corrie ten Boom, who with her family sheltered Jews during WWII and survived a concentration camp and then traveled the world preaching and teaching forgiveness, I thought about my grandparents and their love, I thought about some of the folks from Boston Square who have died since Jay and I became your pastors, and I thought of Jesus, smiling and cheering as I ran.

It's not easy to be faithful in the midst of uncertainty and grief: to pray, to be patient and loving with ourselves and others, to practice compassion and generosity.

I don’t know about you, but I’m more likely to keep running if someone is watching. There’s some pressure that comes from having someone watching you, and there’s great encouragement if the folks watching are cheering for you.

As you persevere this week, remember the cloud of witnesses who surround us. Spend some time remembering your own heroes of faith, and the people who have loved you and gone before.

And remember that Jesus is smiling and cheering for you as you seek to live faithfully in these uncertain times.

All Authority

Here’s a preacher’s secret: it’s actually pretty difficult to preach through the life of Jesus. If you take out his teachings—the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew, the parables in the Gospel of Luke, for example—and focus on his actions, it’s mostly a series of healings and miracles, each one slightly more impressive than the one before. In the Gospel of Mark in particular, first Jesus casts out an impure spirit. Then Jesus heals the sick. Then Jesus heals someone with leprosy, then someone who was paralyzed, then the man with the shriveled hand. Then Jesus calms the storm, then frees the man with the legion of demons. Then Jesus raises the girl from the dead.

            Each of these is a marvelous story of Jesus’ power over the forces in this world that threaten to undo us. Preaching any one of them is a testament to Jesus’ power over the forces that bring fear into our lives and that can lead to a tremendous sermon. Preaching them in order, however, is exceedingly challenging—by the third or fourth week, the message becomes pretty repetitive. Yes, we know, Jesus has power over the forces of evil in this world—yes, even the forces a little bit greater, a little bit stronger than the forces we talked about last week…tell us something we don’t know, preacher... For this reason, I try to avoid preaching more than one or two sermons in a row on the healing miracles of Jesus.

            But when Elizabeth and I were in Israel, we went to the top of Mt Arbel. Mt Arbel is a sharp cliff face rising up over the shores of the Sea of Galilee. From there, you can see where almost 80% of Jesus’ recorded earthly ministry took place. You can see where Jesus cast out the impure spirit and the general area where Jesus healed the sick. You can see where the village was where Jesus healed the paralyzed man. You can see where Jesus calmed the storm since you can see pretty much all of the Sea of Galilee. You can even see where Jesus freed the man possessed by demons. And where Jesus raised the girl from the dead.

            In the Gospel of Matthew, after Jesus is raised from the dead, he tells Mary to tell his disciples to go to Galilee and he will meet them there. And the place where Jesus meets them is on a mountaintop. It may well have been Mt Arbel—and if not, it was someplace very similar. A place where you could look down and see the place where Jesus had healed the sick, the place where Jesus had calmed the storm, the place where Jesus had cast out the demons, the place where Jesus had raised the dead. And it is here, on this mountaintop, overlooking the places where Jesus progressively showed his power over each and every evil that threatens to undo us, that Jesus says, “All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me…”

            Authority over sickness. Authority over the storms of life. Authority over demons. Authority even over death. It might not be easy to preach from week to week to week, but it’s a critically important lesson to remember. Especially in these uncertain times: Jesus has authority over all things.

We are changing whether we want to or not...let us change intentionally.

These are strange times. Everything is changing moment by moment. Everyone one of us has been impacted in ways even just a week ago we never would have imagined. Some of us are working from home and desperately trying to set up a home office. Others suddenly find their children home all day long with playdates forbidden. Others are trying to teach courses online for the first time and keep running into roadblocks. Some are suddenly without work and desperate for income. Some of us are feeling overwhelmed, others are bored beyond measure. All of us are hunkering down, social distancing, and wondering what tomorrow will bring. I’ve seen a number of memes on Facebook that have said something along these lines, “Honestly, I hadn’t planned on giving up this much for Lent.” And the truth is that our lives have changed. In some ways, I hope, temporarily. In others, I suspect, permanently. And anytime our lives encounter seismic change, it’s a good time to step back, try to take a bird-eye view, and see the big picture. If we’re changing anyway—how can we change intentionally and purposefully? What was part of our lives before the coronavirus that we valued? That we don’t want to give up, no matter what it takes to maintain it? How can we nurture these things even in the midst of these new realities? What had creeped into our lives that we didn’t like? What habits or vices had taken hold that we might want to eliminate? How can we use this unique time of our lives being shaken up to cut these weaknesses out of our lives or reshape them in positive ways? What was missing from our lives that we wish were a part of them? How might we use this unique time to nurture these things? To develop new patterns or habits? To reshape the foundation of our lives? And, of course, as we undergo these changes, as our lives reshape themselves day by day in this unprecedented time of uncertainty, how do we guard against bad habits or patterns taking hold? What do we see starting to creep into lives that wasn’t there before and that we don’t want to be there in the future? Paul, in Colossians 3, writes to those believers in Colossus and reminds them of the seismic shift that took place in their lives when they accepted Jesus as their savior. He describes it as taking off the clothes of their former lives and clothing themselves instead with Christ. Put to death the old self, he says—all the anger, rage, malice, and lies. Also the greed and lust and impurity. And instead put on the new self—clothing it with compassion kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. And here’s the deal: this isn’t just a one-time and done sort of thing. Paul says this new self—this new creation made possible through the power of God at work in our lives—is being renewed day by day. In the image of its Creator.

I have a friend on Facebook who wrote, “Heaven help me if I see one more reflection on the coronavirus that declares that this is the perfect time to learn the guitar, to study a new language, to read all those books that have been piling up on my ‘to read’ list. It’s all I can do to keep my head above water!” This reflection isn’t meant to say that we need to be do more or be more or accomplish more. But our lives are changing—whether we like it or not. This is a reflection to say, Let’s do it intentionally. My prayer is that through this all, whatever happens in the next days, or weeks or months, we might all emerge transformed. Renewed. A bit more in the image of our Creator.

And along the way, may the “peace of Christ rule in our hearts.” (Colossians 3:15)

Cambodia

After a canceled flight and two unexpected nights in a hotel, I finally made it to Cambodia, just a day behind schedule, and met up with Justin Van Zee with no trouble. He didn't waste time introducing me to Cambodia, however, and threw me on the back of his motorbike. It would have been terrifying except for the fact that I had just come from Bangladesh, and traffic here is tame by comparison. I've met a number of people Justin works with, seen much of the city and a nearby village, enjoyed extremely good food here, been drenched in the rain, stopped by the police, and stuck in traffic. All in all a great visit. Yesterday I spent most of the day visiting memorial sites to the genocide that took place here under the Khmer Rouge. Incredibly sobering and distressing. It's been really good to see Justin, to meet his friends and housemates, and to get a feel for Cambodia. Cambodia is much different than I expected--certainly more foreigners here than in Bangladesh and thus more Western influence. Everything is clearly changing very fast as well--the city is expanding and building are going up all over. It's also striking the difference between the predominantly Muslim country Bangladesh (with some Hindu influence) and the predominantly buddhist country of Cambodia. Tonight I get back on the plane and start the long journey home.

Bangladesh

After Oman, our group split into two. Half of us went to Egypt to explore Muslim-Christian relations there and half of us went to Bangladesh. I was in the group that went to Bangladesh. The group that went to Egypt were able to see all sorts of sites--the pyramids, the tombs of Pharaohs, ancient churches, and more. They even went on a hot air balloon ride. The promotional line of Bangladesh, however, is "Discover Bangladesh before the tourist does..." Besides navigating the insane traffic on the roads, the most exciting thing we did was cross a river in a giant rowboat. And yet our experience here was incredibly rich--in many ways and in many places we met Christ.

We started at a theological school in the capital city of Dhaka. The night we arrived, they were having a family fellowship night that included much singing and dancing and then a communal meal together. The next morning we met Brother Guillaume--a monk from the Taize community in France. He guided us throughout the day to various religious sites--the Catholic cathedral, various mosques, madrasas, the old Armenian church. He has an extraordinary ability to walk through walls and gain access to people and places that would be hard for virtually anyone else.

After seeing much of the city of Dhaka, we traveled north 120 kilometers to the city of Mymensingh. The is an old Anglican church here that the Taize community has made their home for the last thirty years. There are three brothers currently living there and they made us feel very welcome. We participated in their daily prayer rhythm--prayers every day at morning, noon, and night. In between, we visited various organizations in Mymensingh--many of which were started by the brothers. There's a hostile for students studying at the local schools, workshops for adults with disabilities--weaving, sewing, and woodworking. There's a L'Arche community for people with intellectual disabilities. And an institute for peace. The second day we were they, they had a gathering of all of the various community agencies they helped to start, and there were over 200 people there and it included seven schools for children in villages and clubs for kids who essentially live at the trains stations. One of the impressive aspects was that these groups span Christians, Muslims, and Hindus--and they all work together and were able to celebrate together. The presence and influence of the brothers was the glue that held this all together--and everyone was able to see Christ clearly in who these brothers were.

Bangladesh is a country of sensory overload--there's something new and extraordinary around every corner. I don't have pictures of pyramids or ancient tombs, but I have pictures of people. Extraordinary people doing extraordinary things, and I have been blessed to be here.

Friday worship

This morning (Friday) we went to the Protestant English-language Contemporary worship service here in Oman. It was a beautiful image of heaven in that people literally from all over the world were gathered in one place in worship. It was good to gather with fellow Christians. After worship, we went to the harbor and snorkeled. There was an amazing assortment of fish and sea life--some of the best snorkeling I've ever done. Plus, the water felt as warm as the air. We're off to Bangladesh this evening, and from what I hear, it's going to be much more crowded there and the internet will likely be a bit spotty. I've learned a lot in Oman about Islam and about the Middle East. I am thankful for my time here and the people I've met. The Omanis have been very welcoming and gracious. The wilderness trip was spectacular. I don't think I've ever heard silence like that before.