Sermon Tone Analysis

Oh, the power games that people will play!

It seems like almost any gesture of friendship, intimacy, or goodwill can be transformed into a quest for dominance if people will only try hard enough.

Take, for instance, the handshake.

In his first months in office, speculation began flying fast and thick about the psychology behind the way Donald Trump shakes hands.

It started when he grabbed Japanese Prime Minister Abe’s hand and yanked it to him, forcing the foreign leader to lean forward.

It was interpreted as a subtle act of dominance, and just like that a new tradition was born: watching the president’s hand shakes.

Israeli President Netanyahu was jerked around by it.

Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau forced a stalemate.

German Chancellor Merkel wasn’t even offered a hand.

With each successive visit, psychologists, body language analysts, and experts in etiquette offered their opinions on what was going on, and all agreed that these handshakes weren’t just handshakes: they were displays of power.

Something similar happened around the table where Jesus and his disciples ate that Passover night.

They came in from the road, and gathered around the table.

The standard attire for feet in those days were simple sandals, which left the foot exposed to dirt and grime.

So when a person entered a house, they couldn’t just wipe their shoes on a mat, or take them off and go about in stocking feet.

They needed to wash off the dirt in order not to track it into the house.

A good host made sure to fill a basin with water so people could wash as they came in the door.

A great host assigned a servant to do the washing for the guests or, if no servant was to be had, the great host would take on the role of humble servant and do the washing.

This meal has no host, though.

It’s prepared by Jesus’s disciples - that is, his students, for Jesus’ disciples.

And because it is unclear who is the guest and who is the host, a power struggle is carried out in silence.

Nobody goes to get the washing basin, because it is nobody’s responsibility.

Because there is no host, nobody offers to wash anyone else’s feet - it might be fine to do so as a host, but if you’re not the host and you do the washing, you are humiliating yourself, declaring yourself to be everyone else’s servant.

Nobody at this table wants to be a servant.

They are specially chosen by the Messiah.

They aspire to greatness.

They deserve to be washed, not to do the washing.

With nobody willing to take on the role of host, their feet stay dirty, and they all sit down at the table, having tracked mud in all over the room.

But then, Jesus, the greatest of them all by far, gets up.

He goes and finds the washing basin and fills it with water.

This makes sense, if only for an instant.

After all, being the greatest among them, it makes sense that they are Jesus’s guests - that he is allowing them the honor of eating with him.

Now they can get up and wash their feet.

Only, no.

Because Jesus doesn’t stop there.

He sets aside whatever outfit he’d been wearing for this special meal, and dresses like a servant instead.

And one by one, he goes around and does what the disciples were too proud to do: he washes their feet.

This is love.

This is what happens when a person acts out of compassion, rather than selfish desire.

At first, the disciples are taken aback.

They weren’t sure whose duty it was to wash their feet, but they know it can’t possibly be Jesus’.

What a foolish gesture this is, for him to debase himself in such a way.

They sit in stunned silence as he goes around the room, until he reaches Peter.

And Peter tries to stop him.

No, Jesus, you can’t do this.

I’m not better than you.

I cannot allow you to humiliate yourself any further.

Stop this nonsense at once.

But Jesus won’t take no for an answer.

He tells Peter if he doesn’t accept this foolish display of love, then he can’t be a part of Jesus’ ministry going forward.

Then, Peter does what so many others do when they see how far someone else is willing to go for love.

He asks him to go further.

“Oh, well if this means you love me especially, then by all means, give me a bath!

Show me you love me most of all!”

Give someone an inch...

Jesus, ever the patient one, corrects him gently.

It’s not that being washed by Jesus is special: it’s that everyone’s feet needed washing, and Jesus made sure it got done.

Because that’s how love works.

Love sees another’s needs and fills it, without asking, without worrying about how it looks to other people.

Love knows that once you fill someone else’s needs, they will probably ask for more, rather than being thankful for what’s been given.

Love gently corrects those requests.

Because while love’s giving looks foolish to many, love is not a doormat or an object to be used.

Love does nothing less than what is needed, yet cannot be coerced into doing what is unnecessary.

And when love has done what is needed for those in need, love tells them to go and do the same.

To love others just as they have been loved.

It’s not about power.

It’s not about superiority.

It’s not about owing anyone anything.

It’s about love, for love’s sake.

How will you show love?