This is where pain turns to memory, so we can tell a different story.
I am under the discipline of intimacy with my Father, and this is what He has shown me about my transformation this week-
I am under the discipline of intimacy with my Father, and this is what He has shown me about my transformation this week-
I am a Judas, just coming in from the dark of night. My feet have been made dirty by the steps of betrayal.
You, reader, are also a Judas in need of grace. Your story is different but the larger narrative is the same- we are in the same community of sinners made hungry from the ache of rejection.
We all hunger for that piece of bread which openly identifies the betrayal of our very feet.
We all hunger for that piece of bread which openly identifies the betrayal of our very feet.
So before the effects
of the day set in, come now before Him, kneeling at His feet and bowing low, hair
undone, breathing a breath prayer three times with hands pressed together at
heart center.
This week I had two sermons bombard me with the realization
that my spiritual transformation is not going exactly as I had imagined.
On Monday I listened in to a sermon from The Garden Church,
a talk by Dave Lomas titled “Lean Back”. It was about John chapter 13.

Several days later I tuned into a recording from VOX
Community, a sermon by Jack West called “Betrayal and Forgiveness”. It was also
about John chapter 13.
Coincidence? No. This is how I hear from God- the only way
for Him to get through my stubborn pride is to repeatedly tell me the same
thing in a variety of different ways. Eventually He gets through- eventually.
So John 13 seems to be of import in my walk with Jesus this
week. What is He trying to teach me here? This is the account of Jesus washing all
of the disciple’s feet, just moments before the betrayal of one of those
disciples, Judas.
This is coming right after I wrote about Luke 7:37 in a blog about intimacy and the washing of Jesus' feet by a woman of ill-repute.
Ok, Jesus. Let’s journey here together, then-
John 13
(NLT)
Jesus Washes His Disciples’
Feet
13 Before the Passover
celebration, Jesus knew that his hour had come to leave this world and return
to his Father. He had loved his disciples during his ministry on earth, and now
he loved them to the very end.[a] 2 It was time
for supper, and the devil had already prompted Judas,[b] son of
Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. 3 Jesus knew that the Father had
given him authority over everything and that he had come from God and would
return to God. 4 So he got up
from the table, took off his robe, wrapped a towel around his waist, 5 and poured
water into a basin. Then he began to wash the disciples’ feet, drying them with
the towel he had around him.
His masterpiece is being painted upon our feet
with water made dirty by our own sinful betrayal.
We see Jesus kneeling at the feet of his betrayer, moments
before those very same feet would walk out on Him and cooperate with the plan
for His suffering.
This is the struggle of the human heart. To put forth your
actual, physical sin before Jesus and have Him cleanse it with grace. To come hungry for love, because betrayal has made us empty.
This humility intermingles with the offering of love and we
are repulsed and compelled. We lean back and look down, to watch the beloved head bend over our sins with ministrations of grace.
Have you ever washed the feet of your betrayer? It will haunt your soul for a lifetime and call you to reckon with your innermost being.
If you have the audacity to wash the feet of your enemy, rest assured that God is pursing your heart with a tenacity that defies the gravity of shame.
If you have the audacity to wash the feet of your enemy, rest assured that God is pursing your heart with a tenacity that defies the gravity of shame.
So Jesus calls us all to repentance-
12 After
washing their feet, he put on his robe again and sat down and asked, “Do
you understand what I was doing? 13 You call me ‘Teacher’ and
‘Lord,’ and you are right, because that’s what I am. 14 And since
I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s
feet. 15 I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you. 16 I tell you
the truth, slaves are not greater than their master. Nor is the messenger more
important than the one who sends the message. 17 Now that
you know these things, God will bless you for doing them.
Can we do this? Are we, His followers, capable of extending
forgiveness so generously, lavishing it upon those who would walk out on our
offering of love?
Why are we stil carrying around this awful baggage of betrayal? When are we going to set it down and rest, allowing our King to minister to the very feet which carried us away from His mercy and love?
Oh, but did you know, you are Judas, too? Yes, because betrayal makes us hungry for truth. And if we are hungry, we are the one to whom Jesus hands the bread dipped for sinners-
21 Now Jesus was deeply troubled,[f] and he
exclaimed, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me!”
Betrayal. Yes, this is a loaded word. For each person it
means something different, but to all of us it means the same- a burden of pain.
Who is the betrayer in need of forgiveness? It is I, the hungry
sinner who consumes the bread at the table of Christ.
Will you take communion with me?
26 Jesus
responded, “It is the one to whom I give the bread I dip in the bowl.” And
when he had dipped it, he gave it to Judas, son of Simon Iscariot. 27 When Judas
had eaten the bread, Satan entered into him. Then Jesus told him, “Hurry
and do what you’re going to do.” 28 None of the others at the table
knew what Jesus meant. 29 Since Judas was their
treasurer, some thought Jesus was telling him to go and pay for the food or to
give some money to the poor.30 So Judas left at once, going
out into the night.
You can either dine with Jesus at His table of forgiveness,
or you can go out into the night.
The night: a place of shame and regret. A place where your will is not opposed, and you are left to your own devices. This is where the dark things are, a place without
love or tenderness. A place where nobody ever washes a brother’s dirty feet. A
place of judgement and the rendering of punishment.
The night is the place where you realize you are a hungry sinner, made empty by your betrayal of Christ's ministrations of love, longing for a morsel even if that very morsel publically declares your incrediable need for forgiveness.
God, You call us to love. To really love.
To love ourself despite being wrong. To love our betrayer despite the betrayal.
In the sermon at VOX, Jack West made a statement which fell as profound up my sinners ears: "We must enter into a larger gravitational experience than the one in which we were harmed. Unforgiveness ends in the collapse of the smaller story upon it's author. All stories that are not expansive and don't have forgiveness at their center will eventually collapes on their author."
Jesus, You are calling us into a larger story as you wash the sins from our betraying feet.
Jesus, You are calling us into a larger story as you wash the sins from our betraying feet.
This is impossibly hard.
We cannot do it without You.
But because You have already washed our feet before we
betrayed you, we now have the power to forgive the feet of those who will never
apologize for the ways they have betrayed us.
So we can gather at the communion table in the safe haven of neutrality-
So we can gather at the communion table in the safe haven of neutrality-
4 So now I
am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you
should love each other. 35 Your love for one another will
prove to the world that you are my disciples.”
We are all hungry sinners in need of the bread. The one to
whom Christ gives the morsel to dip and consume, that is the one who will
betray Him.
That sinner is me.
That sinner is you.
For we have hurt one another, and in doing so we have
betrayed His command to love.
How to be loved by the One who loves us? We don’t know. So Jesus paints a
masterpiece upon our dirty feet.
This is where pain turns to memory, so we can tell a different story.
So before the effects
of the day set in, come now before Him, kneeling at His feet and bowing low, hair
undone, breathing a breath prayer three times with hands pressed together at
heart center.
Meet me at the table, friends, for here we can re-imagine
that which we call the story of betrayal. Perhaps you can help me retell my journey from a higher point of grace.
Come hungry to this table, because when you accept a morsel
of bread from the One who names and claims our pain, then your betrayal of His
love becomes the channel for His grace.
I am a Judas, just coming in from the dark of night. My feet have been made dirty again by the steps of betrayal.
You, too, are a Judas in need of grace. Your story is different but the larger narrative is the same- we are in the same community of sinners made hungry from the ache of betrayal.
Take communion with me, won’t you?
It’s the starting place for forgiveness, it is the birth
place of freedom. If nothing else, we can dine side by side and watch Jesus wash our feet. From there, God knows what can be accomplished in us.
Take communion with me. For there are no betrayers when the
table has been set by the gentle cleansing hands of our King. Instead, there is a community of consumers who are being transformed into redemptive works of grace.
"Father, you see my heart, and You know how I have walked into the dark of night away from Your cleansing love. I come again to the communion table to empty my soul, spirit and mind of everything that does not worship You. Does regret or guilt sing Your praise? No. Does longing for things long past bring about change? Never. Can holding onto betrayal lift You higher in my thoughts? No. Jesus, my King, arrest my soul, tame my spirit, transform my mind and meet me at my dirty feet. As the dark of night melts into the light of day, let all things within me be surrendered and made new. I want to walk away from the communion table transformed into a child of dignity and humility. I declare my need for the morsel of bread which You hold out as the others look on, for I am the one upon whom Your forgiveness must fall first. Meet me this week, Jesus. Go with me to the communion table on Sunday. Honor my feeble attempts to reconcile. Bless my desire for unity and healing. Wash my feet again. Thank you, Father. Amen."
I will meet you around the communion table, my friends.
See you Sunday.
See you Sunday.