Washed

Today we mark the Last Supper.

As I ponder this scene, I feel overwhelmed.

There's so much here.

But this morning I felt drawn to one particular moment.

When Jesus washed the feet of His disciples:

John 13:3-11 (ESV) "Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper.

He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, "Lord, do you wash my feet?" Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

Peter said to him, "You shall never wash my feet." Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no share with me." Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" Jesus said to him, "The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean."

The washing of the feet is filled with symbolism.

*The humility of Jesus

*The example of how we should serve one another as believers

*The reality of faith leading to action

But there's also something else.

In a matter of hours, Jesus will be hanging on a bloody cross.

His shed blood will wash away our sin.

And yet as we walk through this life, the dirt will collect.

That's the way it happens for sinners living in a fallen world.

Even sinners who are forgiven and clean.

The dust still gathers.

The mud collects.

Jesus, I need my feet washed.

1 John 1:9 (ESV) "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

Confession doesn't make me forgiven.

Jesus' sacrifice on the cross and His Resurrection from the grave does that.

But it does humble me.

To see the basin fill with dirty water.

My dirt.

The Savior smiles.

I'm beyond words.