Double-edged humility

There are times when I need two lessons before I really get it.  Okay, if you ask Mary, that would be most times, and usually I need even more than two cracks to really get it.  So the story of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples is good for me – I get two cracks at learning humility.

The first lesson is pretty obvious.  John does not include many parables in his Gospel, yet here Jesus acts out a parable.  While in the other gospels, we hear Jesus saying “the greatest among you will be the slave to all,” here Jesus demonstrates this teaching.  He literally “takes the form of a slave” – that was the purpose of the towel around the waist, typical dress for a slave in Jesus’ day – and washes the feet of his disciples.  He then tells us to do the same.

Okay, I get this.  In humility, we are to serve one another.  We should never be so proud to think some service is beneath us.  Washing another’s feet was something even the lowliest Jewish slave would not be required to do, yet Jesus stoops from heaven itself to wash his disciples’ feet. 

I try to remember this, and I hope I live this out more times than not, but I know that I’ll never match Jesus.  This act is not simply a model for us, but is also a prophetic action pointing to the unique role of Jesus – the word made flesh – dying on the cross to save us from sin.  As Paul writes to the Philippians:

“…though he was in the form of God, Jesus did not deem equality with God something to be grasped.  Rather, he emptied himself, and took the form of a slave, coming in human likeness and found in human appearance.  He humbled himself and was obedient to death, even death on a cross.” (Phil 2:6-8)

I am not God.  It is not my job to save all of us from sin – Jesus already did that and it doesn’t need done again.  In some sense, this lets me off the hook, right?  Ah, but that’s why I need a second lesson.

Peter wasn’t God, either.  He’s a mere mortal – my kind of guy.  And Peter shows me that even when I find the courage to humble myself and serve others, pride can still be my downfall.

A few years ago, I read about a survey of what people fear most.  You would think that perhaps pain and death top the list, but they do not.  At least here in the United States, the number one fear was getting old and becoming dependent on others for the simplest acts of life.  After all, we live in a society that takes pride in self-reliance, founded on the principles of independence and self-determination.  We teach our children to study hard at school to get a good education; get a good job and work hard so that you can be whatever you want to be and do whatever you want to do.  You will not have to depend on anyone or be a burden on anyone.  Independence is the goal, dependence is failure.  So it makes sense that the fear of helplessness is our greatest fear.

While I didn’t participate in this survey, I would be with the majority here.  To think that I would be so helpless that others would have to feed me, wash me, read to me, remember for me, even help me go to the bathroom – it makes me shudder. 

It made Peter shudder, too.  He couldn’t imagine that he would need Jesus to wash his feet.  He could take care of that himself.  In a sense, Peter was too proud to be served, even to be served by God himself.

When I fear dependence, and work hard to avoid dependence, am I not denying my human nature as one who sins, one who must depend on God’s mercy?  Is my dependence on others fundamentally different from my dependence on Jesus’ death on the cross?   Not really.

When my pride keeps me from accepting the service of others, it also keeps me from fully accepting Jesus as my savior.   I must not fear dependence, for I am completely dependent on God – and sometimes God serves me through other people.  

It took two tries, but now I get it – with the humility of Jesus, I strive to serve whenever possible and I gratefully accept being served whenever necessary.