Before the traitor had taken off,
Jesus humbled Himself
before twelve pair
of familiar feet.
Feet that had run with delight in His direction
when He
had first nodded in theirs.
Feet that had walked with Him for the better part
of three years
on 'a long obedience in the same direction.'
Feet that had
remained on a narrow path
far removed from a broader (more popular)
road.
Feet that had stumbled on stones thrown by critics who
questioned
their determined allegiance to a carpenter-turned-rabbi.
Feet
calloused by the number of times
they had squashed their doubts and
trudged-on in faith.
Feet that (ironically) still longed
to climb the
rungs of self-importance
in hopes of landing on a pedestal of glory.
Feet
smudged by the mud of daily compromise
smelling of imperfect
devotion.
Feet that would soon flee in fear
when the feet (and
hands)
of their Righteous Friend
were nailed to a Roman
cross.
Beautiful feet that (with the exception of one pair)
would in time
climb the mountains of the earth
finding their ultimate worth
declaring
the incredible good news that our God reigns!
It was these feet the
Savior cradled with compassion
as He rinsed and toweled them dry.
It was
this amazing act of undeserved humility
and unforgettable grace
that Jesus
commanded His friends to emulate.
And to that end we lace up our shoes
and
follow in His footsteps
in the shadow of His cross.
Rev. Greg Asimakoupoulos