John 13:1-15, 34-35
Listen here.
And yet we are not without our Lord’s sustenance for faith and life. We also know this day as “Maundy Thursday,” from the Latin word mandatum, meaning “mandate” or “command.” A new commandment I give to you, Jesus said, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. (Jn. 13:34).
But how was Jesus’ bickering band of disciples supposed to love each other? How are we? This group of men who argued over the seats of honor in Jesus’ kingdom—how were they to love one another? How are we in our current forced separation and distancing? Didn’t the Law already command us to love our neighbor as ourselves? What’s so new about this “new commandment”?
We cannot fully grasp Jesus’ mandate to love apart from His Supper, but we can still take His point. Jesus’ words to love one another also go hand in hand with His servant act of washing His disciples’ feet. It all happened in the Upper Room: foot washing, Lord’s Supper, and Jesus’ new mandate. It all happened on the night when He was betrayed into death. So we cannot speak of our self-sacrificial giving of ourselves to one another in love apart from Christ’s self-giving of His Body and Blood in the Supper and on the Cross.
John’s Gospel doesn’t give us the Institution of the Lord’s Supper. For that we look to Matthew, Mark, Luke and St. Paul. But St. John is catechizing us. The Lord’s Supper is woven into the background. St. John is expanding our horizons on what it means to cling to Jesus’ love and actually love one another.
The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus turns Old Testament washing water into New Testament wine at the wedding of Cana. The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus feeds the five thousand and proclaims Himself the very Bread of life. “For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink,” He said. “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood abides in me, and I in him.” (Jn. 6:55-56) The Lord’s Supper is in the background of the whole sermon Jesus preaches in the Upper Room on this night of His betrayal. “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” (Jn. 15:5)
Baptism and Lord’s Supper go hand in hand in John. They are as bound together as the water and the blood that flowed from the pierced side of Jesus at His crucifixion. They are as close as the foot washing and the Supper in the Upper Room the night before He was crucified.
Jesus knew what lay ahead of Him that night. He knew one of His own disciples would betray Him. He also knew that all things were given to Him by His Father, that He had come from God, that He was going to God. He knew that the time of His Passover was near—the time when His blood would paint the wood of the cross so that death might pass over.
So, knowing all this, Jesus rose from the table, laid aside His garments, tied a towel around His waist and poured a basin full of water. He knelt down. He began to wash His disciples feet. Then He dried them with the towel He was wearing. Jesus did what no Hebrew slave was asked to do: wash feet.
Now foot washing was a crucial part of social etiquette in Jesus’ culture. It was something like our moms saying, “Don’t forget to wash your hands before supper.” They did that, but they also washed their feet. Remember, Jesus and His disciples reclined on pillows at a low table, instead of sitting in chairs as we do. That put your neighbor’s feet very close to your face, and vice versa. Thus, foot washing!
And yet foot washing was one of the lowest and most menial tasks. Only the lowest rank of slave would do it. But here in the Upper Room, the Lord of heaven and earth, the Incarnate Word through whom all things where made, sets aside His own garments and puts on the lowly vestments of the humblest slave. What extreme humility! The One called Teacher and Lord washes the feet of His students!
Peter objected. “You shall never wash my feet!” Peter is too proud to have Jesus bend down and wash his feet. That same sort of pride keeps us from Baptism, Absolution, Lord’s Supper, and the Gospel proclaimed. It also keeps us from bending down to wash the feet of brothers and sisters in our midst. Surely Jesus is more glorious than a bath, a spoken word of forgiveness, and a bit of bread and wine! Surely washing feet is not a proper use of our great spiritual gifts! Isn’t the real Jesus more glorious, more “spiritual,” than some crucified foot-washer?
But that’s not faith; that’s unbelief. “If I do not wash you,” Jesus says, “you have no share with Me.”
We too must be washed by Jesus, bathed as little children, baptized into His death and resurrection. We cannot wash ourselves. We wouldn’t even if we could. Like little children who play in the mud, we rather enjoy the filth of our sin. We’ve grown accustomed to it. So Jesus bends down to us in His humbled, crucified humanity to wash us. He reaches down to the dirtiest and most deeply soiled places in our lives, down to the soles of our feet, where we touch the earth from which were made, the dirt to which we return in death. He reaches down to the place where the dirt of our earthly life is ground in and stubborn. And washed by Jesus, baptized into His death, we are cleansed from head to toe.
Jesus’ washing drowns our stubborn pride and the ego of our old Adam. It frees us from the bondage of our pride to serve others in the humility of Christ. “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” Jesus shows us the posture of the disciple before the world: stooped down as a servant with towel and basin, washing filthy feet. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus means having your feet washed by Jesus so that you may, in turn, wash the feet of others. It means being loved by a humbled and crucified Christ so that you may be humbled and crucified to love one another, in Him.
Now if we could receive the Supper this evening, I would say that once we’re washed by Jesus, we are clean and ready for Supper. We could recline, relax at His table, and let down our defenses. But, alas, we’re not able to do that right now. We rightly long for Him to be our host, servant, and main course all at the same time. We long for His precious Body to eat and His Passover blood to drink. But take comfort and strength from this: He is still the true Vine; we are still His branches grafted into Him through faith. His life still flows from the cross through the cleansing water of Baptism and the Word of forgiveness you hear. And His life in us always bears fruit. His love for us overflows to one another.
It’s in this context that Jesus gives His “new mandate.” He says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” What’s “new” with this commandment? It’s not the love. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is the old commandment, from Moses. What’s new is Jesus’ washing and His feeding—His Baptism and His Supper of Body and Blood. These are Jesus’ “mandates” for you. This is how you learn to love one another. Right now, oddly enough, we even learn to love one another as we forego His Supper, caring for those most vulnerable to this dreaded disease.
Jesus’ new mandate to His disciples is to receive His love in all the ways He has to give it. Jesus’ new mandate means being loved by Him so that His love flows through you to one another. His love is poured out for you in His death and poured into you in His Baptism and His Supper, which you will receive again. His love bears fruit as it has its way with you—leading you to bend down, leading you to wash each other’s feet, leading you to serve each other, leading you to live for each other’s benefit.
As we learn to be filled with Jesus’ self-giving love, His love flows through us to each other. As the hymn sings: “My song is love unknown, My Savior’s love to me, Love to the loveless shown that they might lovely be.” Amen.
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