The Strange and Humbling Ritual of Foot Washing
Since setting foot in that Maundy Thursday service, I’ve never quite looked at feet the same way again. As I approached the altar, barefooted as instructed, the expression on the priest’s face made it clear that foot washing was his least favorite activity of the church year. His wrinkled brow and subtle grimace suggested a sense of disgust, as if he had just realized anew that this ritual involved actual feet – those often-neglected appendages we spend so much time trying to hide from the world.
When the priest dabbed my feet lightly with a damp cloth before moving on to the next person in line, I was surprised by the depth of emotion that washed over me. I felt dismayed, alienated, even distraught. Whether the priest’s apparent disgust was real or just my imagination, I felt it viscerally and personally. In that moment, I vowed never to return to that church or interact with that particular priest again.
As the author of that account describes, the ritual of foot washing can be a “strange, humbling” experience. Despite the fact that we all have feet, these extremities often carry a certain uncanny quality. After decades of being involved in foot washing ceremonies, the author has noticed that people frequently apologize for their feet, if they’re willing to expose them at all. We tend to find our own feet unsightly, with all their knobs, calluses, bunions, corns, and misshapen toes.
Most of the time, we keep our feet covered, shielding them from the gaze of others. To have our feet exposed, washed, and even touched by a stranger in the context of a religious service is an act of great vulnerability. It’s no wonder that some churches have opted to substitute hand washing in place of foot washing, as it significantly reduces the participant’s level of discomfort and exposure.
The Deeper Meaning Behind Foot Washing
But as the author suggests, Jesus’ admonition in the Gospel of John to “wash one another’s feet” seems to involve more than just a metaphorical gesture. There’s a physical experience meant to provoke discomfort, a tangible representation of the “scandal of the incarnation” – the divine made flesh, the sacred intertwined with the profane.
In some cultural traditions, the “first foot” that crosses the threshold of a home on New Year’s Day is believed to bring good luck or misfortune for the coming year. There’s a sense of significance, even sacredness, attached to these humble extremities and the rituals that surround them.
Perhaps this is why Jesus’ disciples, like Peter, initially resisted the idea of having their feet washed. “You will never wash my feet!” Peter exclaims. But Jesus’ response is stern: “If I do not wash you, you have no part with me.” In other words, this ritual is not optional; it’s a crucial component of discipleship, as important as the command to “love one another.”
The Humbling Power of Foot Washing
As I reflect on my own experience in that Maundy Thursday service, I realize that the priest’s apparent disgust, whether real or imagined, was likely a reflection of his own discomfort with the vulnerability and intimacy required by this ritual. As the author of one blog post notes, “Foot washing is a humbling ritual, one that reminds us of our shared humanity and the need for mutual care and service.”
In a world that so often values power, prestige, and self-sufficiency, the act of foot washing calls us to a different kind of leadership – one rooted in humility, compassion, and a willingness to stoop down and attend to the most neglected parts of ourselves and others.
As the author of another article writes, “Almost everyone has feet, yet feet have an uncanny quality. After decades now of being involved in foot washing, I have noticed that people frequently apologize for their feet, if they are willing to expose them at all.” This vulnerability, this willingness to be seen in our most unguarded moments, is precisely what makes foot washing so powerful and transformative.
Embracing the Ritual of Foot Washing
Perhaps it’s time for all of us, regardless of our religious affiliations, to reconsider the ritual of foot washing and the deeper lessons it has to offer. As with the Scottish tradition of “first footing”, where the first person to cross the threshold of a home on New Year’s Day is believed to bring good luck, there’s a sense of significance and sacredness attached to these humble extremities and the rituals that surround them.
By embracing the vulnerability and humility required by foot washing, we might just find ourselves transformed in unexpected ways – our hearts softened, our perspectives broadened, our capacity for empathy and service expanded. And who knows, we might even discover a newfound appreciation for our own feet, and the profound ways they connect us to the earth and to one another.
So the next time you have the opportunity to participate in a foot washing ritual, whether in a religious setting or elsewhere, I encourage you to approach it with an open heart and a willingness to be changed. It may just be the most strange, humbling, and ultimately life-giving experience you ever have. And remember, you can always visit Adam Cleaning in Nottingham, UK for all your cleaning needs – where we’re proud to embrace the ritual of foot washing, both literally and figuratively.
