"Do You Know What I Have Done To You"
August 14, 2022
Passage: John 13:1-20, 2 Chronicles 7:12-22
Link to the sermon: "Do You Know What I Have Done"
“Do You Know What I Have Done To You?”
John 13:1-20
August 14, 2022
Read John 13:1-20
This is the Word of the LORD
Today, we move into a different section of John. Last week we talked about Jesus concluding his public ministry. Now his attention turned to teaching the disciples. This was the final stretch. Jesus intensified the revelation, the training, and the preparation in anticipation of the shock that was to come. The rest of the gospel details Jesus’ last hours with the disciples, his arrest, trial, crucifixion and then, miraculously and gloriously, his resurrection.
Jesus and the disciples had ridden into Jerusalem triumphantly. The crowds had cheered him. They had praised God for the coming of the Messiah. There was an air of expectation; a buzz around the city that something big was about to happen. The symbolism of the Passover was in everyone’s mind; God’s delivering the people out of the hand of bondage to a foreign power. This was big.
Jesus gathered the disciples to celebrate Passover with them. John narrated how Jesus knew his hour had come. He knew Judas was about to betray him. John wrote that Jesus loved his own to the end, which also could be translated, “to the full extent.” Both translations fit the context and John may have intended the ambiguity. The point is that John was foreshadowing Jesus’ successful completion of the mission for which he had been sent. Knowing (head knowledge) and trusting (obedient behavior) that he would be successful, Jesus could have taken his spot at the head of the table (literally and figuratively) and demanded tribute from all in attendance.
However, instead of taking a bold stance at the head, Jesus took off his robe. He tied a towel around his waist and assumed the posture of a slave. For those who have been around for a while, we take this as just another illustration of Jesus surprising the disciples with something unexpected. We have even domesticated this action – washing someone’s feet – to metaphorically signify doing something for someone else. Let me encourage you to step back and re-look: it was much more jolting than a metaphor.
This portrait of Jesus is very different than the picture of leaders we hold in our heads. Today, we see pictures of the President of the United States in the midst of crowds, surrounded by Secret Service. Or, he is at a formal dinner honoring the head of state of another country. Or he is in front of microphones answering questions, with the White House – a symbol of American power – in the background.
“Do you know what I have done to you?” It was the question Jesus asked the disciples after he had washed their feet. It was the right question because it was so unexpected. The disciples were debating for their places on the seating chart near the king. Peter’s gaffe in the middle of the conversation revealed just how unexpected it was; in the original, you get a more sputtering, stammering impression of Peter’s reaction – literally, “Master, you – my….”
That’s how we often react when God shows up. God rarely shows up as we expect; but God does show up. And that’s the first thing I want you to see this morning: God shows up.
God is active.
For many of us, God showing up is always a startling reality. We go along in life assuming God is out there, somewhere, doing something God-like. Our day-to-day experiences do not change that much. So, we do our thing, come to church on Sunday, get a word of encouragement and hear some great music, then go on with our lives. Even as pastors we sometimes get in the rut of not expecting God to show up.
Years ago at a national church gathering, I worked with a man who was an elder in his congregation. He told me, “If anyone believes God does not show up in real lives, have them come and ask me.” He told me how he and his wife had struggled to have children. They went through all the procedures. However, during the testing, they did not get pregnant. Instead, they discovered she had cancer. And not just any cancer; she had a very rare form of cancer. There was a 0% five-year survival rate. Most did not survive the year.
They were referred to an oncology specialist in Atlanta. They went to the appointment, scheduled for the early morning. They waited six hours before they were seen. Many of you know this experience. They expressed their frustration to the nursing staff, who apologized but said, “He is telling a family that the treatment did not work and that the patient is going to die.” Though still irked, they decided they wanted to be with a physician who took such a personal interest in his patients.
Finally, the doctor came in and told them about the illness. There were approximately 100 reported cases worldwide in any given year. There was an experimental drug that they could try; but there was no track record and no survival past about eighteen months. Devoid of other treatment options, they decided to join the trial.
Two years later, she had not gotten worse and the medication seemed to be holding. Then, they discovered she was pregnant. The doctors recommended that she terminate the pregnancy because the hormones generated during pregnancy would feed the cancer. After a long discussion at home (and, no doubt, a LOT of prayer), they decided to continue with the pregnancy and to trust God. Miracle of miracles, the baby was born without complication.
That would be story plenty to marvel at how God showed up. However, it was not the end. After the baby was born, they went back for a regular checkup. To their surprise, the doctor spent an extraordinary amount of time asking questions and detailing her blood results. He called in a radiology specialist to look at her films. That is when the reason for the doctor’s odd behavior was revealed: the radiologist could not find any tumor. It was gone. The doctor said he could see where it was supposed to be because he knew where it had been; there were no traces of any kind of tumor any longer. It was gone. Completely.
After about an hour more of follow-up questions and answers, they asked the doctor why he was spending so much time at this appointment. He said that they were closing the trial, that the drug had been shown to be ineffective in treating the cancer. Despite early promise, there was only one patient who had survived past the two-year mark. My friend realized that his wife was the only one.
When he and I were talking eleven years later, she was still cancer free. They had two children. Their lives were day-to-day expressions of thanksgiving and gratitude for God’s grace and provision. To repeat his introduction to his story, “If anyone believes God does not show up in real lives, have them come and ask me.”
My point is not that God will heal all our diseases and that none of us will die. Instead, my point is this: God is active and intervenes in the real lives of real people; like people you know, like people you meet.
Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet was an illustration of how God shows up intervening on our behalf. The disciples had not asked or expected Jesus to wash their feet. Jesus took the initiative. Jesus acted first. It was an act of love. He saw their uncleanness and he took the steps necessary to remedy it. It was a simple way of showing what he was about to do in a much larger way on the cross.
You can be sure that when the disciples later told this story, it was not with the perspective that, “Well, we deserved it. We earned it, traveling all those miles and months with him. Besides, that’s what the Messiah should do for us.” No, there is a humility that comes with the realization of what Jesus – Teacher and Lord – was doing. It is kind of the opposite of the sufferer’s “why me?” Here, the unworthy one is asking an amazement and gratitude, “Lord, why me?”
And so it is with you and me. We often are unaware or blind to the realities of our own uncleanness. We do not like to look at how we sin. But we need to be reminded of that sinfulness; we need to remember that Jesus took the initiative to wash us clean – “us” including you and me – or else we begin to take grace for granted. We begin to act as if God does not care about sin, as if God does not concern himself with what we do, as if we can count on God to make everything right in the end. The washing of feet is a stark reminder of the extent of Jesus’ humiliation for us. But he did it. Willingly. Without our even asking. In Jesus, God took the initiative.
Jesus was modeling how his disciples should treat each other.
The second thing to note is this – and there was no way around it – Jesus commanded them: “For I have set an example for you that you also should do as I have done to you.”
There are two parts to this command Jesus gave. First, there was the authority by which he had the power to make the command; second, it was the example he gave in living out what he expected of them.
We have covered Jesus’ power and authority previously, so I am only going to touch on it here this morning. Jesus made abundantly clear that he was the anointed one of God, the Messiah. For our purposes today, He is who he said he is, “You call me Teacher and Lord – and you are right, for that is what I am.” Then, a few verses later, he said, “I tell you this now, before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe that I am he.”
The first relationship we have is with the one who is Teacher and Lord. How we relate to Jesus dictates everything else we do. That relationship is the foundation of everything else. If he is only advisor and counselor, then you remain responsible for everything in your life. If he is a sage to be consulted like fortune cookies or experts on television, then you carry the burden of knowing everything. Jesus is more than an advisor, more than a sage – he has the power and authority of the Son of God and he has the right to be the Lord (the sovereign) over you. He has the authority to make the command that he gave to the disciples.
But look at how he exercised his authority. Instead of gloating about his power over the disciples, he served them. He humiliated himself for them. He set aside his rightful due and looked to their needs.
He expected his disciples – then AND now – to follow his example. Long-time disciples have the responsibility to serve, not rule over, new believers. Those called to leadership are called to create opportunities for others to experience God’s grace so that all may mature in their walks; they are not to function as gatekeepers to allow in only the worthy. Covenant partners are commanded to submit to one another; not to complete for prestige, authority, or power. Much of the rest of the New Testament is addressed to congregations and individuals struggling to live into the kinds of behaviors Jesus commanded.
I am going to cross a couple of lines here, but it is important:
- We ALL need to be willing to give up our spot in the pew; in contrast to feeling entitled to that spot because we have been here long enough to deserve it;
- We ALL need to ask what we are contributing – as in money AND personal commitment – to help the body here grow, instead of asking what we are getting from it;
- We ALL need to look out for “the least of these” without allowing ourselves to sit in judgment of those tax collector sinners who do not deserve any more chances.
Can we do that with each other? Can we look past our own rights and pride to take up the needs of others? More to the point – do we desire to lay down our lives so that others may live? This seems like it should be easy; as we sit here in the sanctuary, we think, “Of course we can.” In day-to-day life, it is much more difficult.
For example, how comfortable are you confronting a brother or sister in Christ who is gossiping? You know how it feels, “Who am I to judge them?” The problem is in the question – you are not in a position to judge them; but, you are in a position to help cleanse them. Can you set aside the issue of how you will be perceived in order to help a brother or sister be washed clean? Can we invest ourselves in walking together – accountable to each other – encouraging virtue and repressing vice? It can be easy to point and sit in judgment of someone else’s wrongdoing; it is much harder to walk alongside someone to bring them to repentance and restoration. It is even more difficult to be vulnerable and be willing to be held accountable as the one being challenged to come to repentance and restoration.
So let me ask again: can we do that with each other? Can we look past our own rights and pride to take up the needs of others?
Jesus was telling them that they need to be accountable to each other even as he was being accountable for them. Just as the disciples needed to be washed in order to be clean, so also are we to be intentional about reaching out to others in order that they be washed clean.
It is really a radical thing that Jesus was commanding them. Put down your rights, your status, your pride – those are not relevant. Pick up responsibility to love the ones you are called to serve; and to serve the ones you are called to love. Look to their interests before your own.
(To digress for a moment: being mutually accountable does not mean being a doormat; nor does it make us righteous over one another. It is mutual accountability: I see your sin and am here to walk with you as you deal with it; you see my sin and are here to walk with me as I deal with it.)
Jesus’ washing of the disciples’ feet is the example he commands them (and us) to follow. Conceptually, this is easy and beautiful. In practice, it is humiliating and dirty. But it is holy, and it is obedient, and it is what disciples do to follow the Teacher and Lord.
God is redeeming.
Sometimes we overlook the significance of what Jesus was doing because we are so focused on the fact that it was Jesus doing it. Washing. Jesus was making them clean.
We need to be cleansed because we are dirty with sin. We are not perfect.
The pastor of a church in Boston met a young boy in front of the sanctuary carrying a rusty cage in which several birds fluttered nervously. The pastor inquired, "Son, where did you get those birds?" The boy replied, "I trapped them out in the field." "What are you going to do with them?" "I'm going to play with them, and then I guess I'll just feed them to an old cat we have at home." When the pastor offered to buy them, the boy said, "Mister, you don't want them, they're just little old wild birds and can't sing very well." The pastor replied, "I'll give you $2 for the cage and the birds." "Okay, it's a deal, but you're making a bad bargain." The exchange was made, and the boy went away whistling, happy with his shiny coins. The pastor walked around to the back of the church property, opened the door of the small wire coop, and let the struggling creatures soar into the blue. The next Sunday he took the empty cage into the pulpit and used it to illustrate his sermon about Christ's coming to seek and to save the lost -- paying for them with His own precious blood. "That boy told me the birds were not songsters," said the pastor, "but when I released them and they winged their way heavenward, it seemed to me they were singing, 'Redeemed, redeemed, redeemed!" [1]
We do not like thinking about how dirty we are. I certainly do not like thinking about how dirty I am; but not thinking about it does not make me clean. We hope we are less dirty than the next guy, and we get defensive if someone points out the dirt on us. Yet we are not honest with ourselves and with each other if we do not see our own sin, if we do not confess that we are sinners.
The beauty in this story of Jesus’ washing the disciples’ feet is the thoroughness, the completeness, and the sufficiency of the cleaning. It is a reflection of baptism – of the water of grace being poured over us, a sign of God’s taking the initiative to claim us as his own. It is a precursor of the cross, where Jesus took the initiative to redeem us as his own. It is the hope of salvation, that in Christ we have the assurance of our adoption as children of the King of Heaven.
In a much more profound and real way, much more personal and eternal, a much more physical way – Jesus’ death on the cross was the same humiliation and washing clean that he did on the night he washed the disciples’ feet. Let us also keep in mind his question and command, “Do you know what I have done to you?” “I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” Brothers and sisters in Christ, hear and see; go and do likewise.
Amen.
Questions:
- How would you explain the jolt the disciples received when Jesus took off his robe, tied a towel around his waist, and began to wash their feet? Why was it a big deal to them? Can you put yourself in their position and imagine how it must have felt?
- When and how has God shown up in your life? Did it look like you expected?
- From what do you need to be cleaned? Move beyond the generic response of “sin” and think more specifically; what is the dirt that clings so closely to you that you cannot scrub it off by yourself? Would you be willing to have someone walk alongside you as you repent and seek restoration? Would you be willing to walk alongside someone else on that road?