Today I am struck yet again by the gentleness, compassion and humility of Jesus. I am still in John, and not much further on than when I wrote this post, for I don’t read the Bible quickly. I have done so in the past, I have skimmed large portions of Scripture rapidly. But, I find that approach hard to maintain, and in doing so, I am bombarded by so much that needs careful thought, prayer and consideration that I struggle to find anything to come away with. In the presence of so much to think about, I end up with little to hold on to.
Therefore, I have found that I have to take time. To sit, to dwell and to contemplate. So I move slowly. Sometimes I sit with the same few verses for days, maybe even weeks. I have learnt that it is okay to do this and to not feel guilty for not covering vast quantities of Scripture. But, instead, to let the Spirit speak to me where I am.
To be clear, I am not meaning to insinuate that there is anything wrong with reading large portions of Scripture, far from it. Or in attempting to read the Bible in a year or even a shorter period.
Reading the Bible is clearly essential. We must know what God has said, how he has dealt with people, the story of the people of God, who God is, and most especially who Jesus was and is, what he did and what happened next. We must be a people immersed in Scripture, and an overview of the Bible is absolutely a beneficial thing. (Speaking of which if you haven’t already the BibleProject is well worth a look, they do a brilliant job of explaining books of the Bible and the themes and ideas contained within them through a series of animations). We cannot hope to know or relate to God without a sound and robust foundation, and that foundation must be based on the Bible. So if you are someone who reads large portions of Scripture regularly, I admire and applaud you.
But let us return to Jesus.
I was reading this morning how Jesus sent Judas away to betray him (John 13: 21-30). And, I was thinking about how he had just washed Judas’ feet. Jesus must have knelt before Judas, as he knelt before every other disciple. I am sure that Jesus took his time, as he did with each of the others. That he was just as gentle. Just as kind.
How did Jesus do this? Perhaps it is more important to ask why did he do this? Jesus knew what was coming. Surely, he could have sent him away sooner. Why didn’t he?
I wonder if this is what is captured in the verses at the beginning of this chapter,
“Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God…”
John 13: 1-3
Jesus act here is both a comfort and a challenge.
I am shocked at Jesus’ compassion, knowing that I too am a recipient. For I know my guilt, my sin, my shame and I know that Jesus did this act for me also. I can see myself sitting before him, and I know that he takes my feet. Do I want to withdraw them like Peter? To tell him that I know who he is and that he cannot wash my feet? Do I hear his words echo in my mind, “unless, I wash you, you have no share with me” (13:8)?
Jesus, my Lord, God, and King, gently lifts my feet and washes them, he tenderly dries them. He looks at me, and he knows it all. Jesus smiles at me. He calls me his daughter and his friend.
Who could imagine a God like ours? He is so far beyond our envisioning, for he is so different from us. He takes our systems of importance and worth and turns them upside down. We are left to marvel at who he is. Surely worship is the only response that we can give?
Except that it is not, for I am also confronted with the uncomfortable truth that Jesus is calling me to do likewise. That his call must be my call. That I, knowing who I am – daughter, friend, beloved of the Most High God – must embrace the role of a servant. I must stoop and bend, accepting the yoke of humility. All this in the knowledge that I may not be well received, that the heel I lift may turn and strike me. This is a hard thing to do, a hard truth to accept.
But then I realise that I am not asked to do this alone. Because as I kneel, I kneel beside Jesus. As I lift a foot, he shares the burden. As I take up the cross he asks me to carry I discover that I am found. Maybe, just maybe, intimacy is the gift that is unearthed in the mud, that is brought forth in dying.
Jesus, your mercy, love and compassion are incredible. Thank you for your astounding love, that you take our feet, and wash them. That you died for us, knowing who and what we are. But, Lord Jesus, it is so hard to follow the call you have placed on us. It is hard to follow in your footsteps. Please help me, help us, today to bend as you bend, to stoop as you stoop, and to love as you love. Amen
How do you read the Bible? What do you find most helpful as you do so? Is worship something that comes naturally to you? How is Jesus calling you to serve those around you? Is there something he is asking you to do?
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