The Last Lesson--April 17, 2025

 

The Last Lesson--April 17, 2025

"After Jesus had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, 'Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord--and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you." (John 13:12-15)

This is Jesus' final teaching, and he knows it.  Here, on this Holy Thursday, mere hours before the authorities arrest him and detain him unjustly on false charges, Jesus uses his last moments with his students to teach, by example, that leadership looks like serving, and that greatness requires humbling oneself.  It is worth noting that, of all the things he could have discussed but didn't, of all the questions he could have answered but left hanging, of all the topics he could have issued official decrees about but decided against, he centers his disciples' last classroom experience on a towel and basin to wash their feet.  In this act, Jesus crosses the boundary that would have separated Respectable and Refined Folks from the enslaved and most menial of laborers. Jesus chooses the most shameful, grubby, lowly chore of the household and imbues it with tenderness, love, and dignity as a final lesson to them.

You might already be familiar with the practice in many colleges, universities, and institutions of higher learning for a departing or retiring professor to give a "last lecture."  Maybe you remember, too, the popular book from a few years back by Randy Pausch, which went by the same title, and encapsulated his "last lecture" to students as he faced the late stages of a terminal diagnosis.  Whether because of sickness or retirement or whatever other circumstances, a "last lecture" is supposed to be a set of parting lessons to a student body--usually it's open to anyone at the institution, and it's usually meant to be a summary or capstone of whatever this professor wants to commend to young learning minds.  One would expect that the content of a "last lecture" is going to fit with the character they modeled in their career, as well as the important ideas they contributed to their discipline.  Teachers giving a last lecture also typically want to take one final opportunity to shape the way they will be remembered or to burnish their legacies.

So what does it mean that when Jesus knows he is in a "last lecture" sort of situation, he doesn't brag about his greatness, pontificate in lofty language, or succumb to mere sentimentality, but simply scrubs the calloused feet of the disciples who will do a heel turn on him before the night is out?  What does it mean that Jesus, who knows the secret police will take him away on trumped up charges without a fair trial, doesn't use these final minutes to run away or stir up his disciples to fight with weapons when the lynch-mob comes, but instead goes about his business pouring water on their muddy toes?  What does it mean that Jesus' ultimate lesson is an act of self-emptying service rather than ego-stroking braggadocio?

Well, honestly, it means that what Jesus has been saying and doing all along in his life, teaching, and actions is still all true.  That is to say, when Jesus washes his disciples' feet, it is completely in character for everything else Jesus has done and said all his life long.  He has been talking from his first public words about God's way of lifting up the lowly and how his mission is to serve rather than be served, and now in this last lecture, Jesus still embodies this same way of life, this same mission, and this same vision of the Reign of God.  It means that the act of washing feet is not an exception to the rule, or a one-off oddity in the way of Jesus, but the defining key signature of the whole song that is his ministry.  This was Jesus' chance to give any other final directions or course-corrections to his fledgling movement. This was Jesus' opportunity, if had needed or wanted one, to turn his movement into a militia, charge his disciples to "take back their country for God," or seize the throne and wield power over his enemies. He does none of those because he has exactly zero interest in any of those approaches. Instead, Jesus chose to pour water in a bowl and wash the feet of the same ones who would bail out on him--or betray him. This is Jesus' sort of revolution.

And here's the other thing we can't avoid from Jesus' last lesson: this kind of servant love--that even includes Judas the betrayer and Peter the denier--is meant to be our way of life as well.  We don't get to say, "How quaint that Jesus did this for his disciples, and for us. But that's because he's the Savior of the world. We don't have to do that weak-looking humble serving stuff, because that's just not how the real world works."  Jesus explicitly says that his act of washing feet is meant to be an example, a model, for us.  He blazes the trail and we walk the same path as Jesus--because there is no way to call on Jesus as "Lord" for us to worship without also understanding he is "Teacher" for us to follow.  So if we are going to be disciples of this particular Lord and Teacher, it should be clear what we will need in our hands: not larger piles of cash, not the levers of political power, and not the weapons of the empire, but the towel and basin of the footwashing messiah.  This is our way in the world... because it is Jesus' way in the world.

If you find yourself in worship this Maundy Thursday, and you hear the invitation to come forward to let your feet or hands be washed as an echo of this ancient story, I would invite you to take it.  Let someone serve you and wash your feet.  Let someone be vulnerable for your sake as you are vulnerable for theirs in allowing them to wash your feet.  But also see in that moment Jesus' complete rejection of the usual way the world does business: Jesus has no interest in conquering people, killing enemies, or insulating himself from suffering in a lavish palace or opulent country club. Jesus has no need to intimidate his opponents or to make those seen as "undesirables" disappear. Instead, he lights a fuse on an explosive new way of living in the world that will destabilize and defy all the powers and empires of history: he commissions us to serve rather than to subjugate.

Jesus has given us his last lesson.  What will we do with it?  What will we learn?

Lord Jesus, be our teacher as well.  Instruct us in your way of serving, and shape us in your love.