A few weeks ago at my church, the worship team asked the congregation to sit down for the next song they were going to play. This request frustrated me a bit. I am the type of person who likes to actively engage in worship by jumping and raising my hands. So I sat down like I was told, but not without a bit of disappointment about not getting to worship the way I wanted to. However, as I got still and quiet, I heard the Lord ask me, “will you let me wash your feet?”
With that phrase in mind, I immediately thought of Peter when Jesus offered to wash his feet (see John 13). I imagine he felt unworthy of being waited upon by someone so perfect and powerful, but Jesus told him it had to be this way. If Peter did not let him wash his feet, he would not belong to him. Humbly accepting his master’s love and service was the key to finding genuine communion with him.
I found myself in Peter’s shoes. As I sat in my comfy church seat, Jesus offered to serve me in ways I did not deserve. He offered to bless me with his voice and presence without me doing anything in return, not even raising my hands.
My initial resistance towards sitting and receiving exposed some hidden pride in my heart. Sometimes, I want so badly to prove to God that I am worth his love, to do enough good deeds that I feel like I earned my standing with him. If I am not careful, that’s what lifting my arms in church can become: an attempt to show I am “good enough” for God by how “good” I can worship him. Yet, often the most faithful and righteous deed is to set aside my pride long enough to receive the love he wants to pour out on me.
On that Sunday morning at church I needed to simply sit down and let Jesus serve me. When I did, I experienced a new level of closeness with him. It was like the big bucket at the water park tipped over and dumped thousands of gallons of peace and gratitude over my head. I burst out in tears of overwhelming joy. I wonder if Peter reacted the same when Jesus scrubbed that first piece of gunk out from between his toes?
The fact is, Jesus served all of us first. In the most selfless act of love, he washed our feet with his very own blood. He died for us before we did one good deed for him (see Romans 5:8). Therefore, we do not have to accomplish some quota of religious achievements to earn his love. We already have it! He is simply waiting for us to accept it. Once we do, we can begin to serve others from the fullness of his love. But if we continue to pridefully refuse his loving service, then we are left burning the fumes of our own moral effort.
As I prepare for the World Race, I pray that this humble acceptance of God’s love for me will be the foundation for all the ministry that I participate in. I know that it is only with feet washed by Jesus, that I can kneel to wash the feet of others. If I go halfway around the world hoping to prove my worth to God or earn favor with him, I will only find myself walking in anxiety, striving in vain to “do enough for him.” But if I go having already embraced that I am fully loved and accepted by him, then I can walk in peace. Then, my ministry can be an overflow of the affection that God has already lavished on me.
I commit to go with feet washed by Jesus.
