Sermon for Maundy Thursday 2026
Readings:
Why are you here tonight?
I imagine that there are probably about as many reasons as there are people here.
Some of you are here because you are on the schedule to usher or read.
Some of you are here because you are in the choir and you sing.
Some of you are here because someone else made you come.
Some of you are paid to be here.
Some of you came because we were having dinner.
Some of you are here because this is Holy Week and Maundy Thursday is a tradition.
Some of you are here because you love this church and want to support it.
Some of you are here because someone you love is sick, or in need, and you want to pray for God to help them.
Some of you are here because the world is driving you mad and you don’t know where else to go.
There are any number of reasons why you might be here tonight.
I know that none of you came because you wanted to have your feet washed. Seriously, if I installed a couple massage chairs up here and charged you $60 there would be a line in here, but taking your shoes off in church, God forbid. People would rather help you plunge the toilets. It’s my annual struggle. You know, I thought I might ask Senator Corey Booker if he would be my guest preacher tonight and he could just preach until I got twelve volunteers to come forward. It might test his capabilities.
Of course, I know I can’t take it too personally. Jesus got some resistance with foot washing too. Peter, the rock, even Peter tried to refuse to allow Jesus to wash his feet. Lord, are you going to wash my feet? You will never wash my feet! If your impulse is to recoil at the thought of someone publicly washing your feet (outside of a nail salon of course), then you are in good company. Peter found the idea completely objectionable as well. I get it. This is a slightly odd ritual.
What I find fascinating though is that I think a major part of what makes all of this really uncomfortable is the setting. Church. If we were at the beach, many of you would think nothing of taking off your shoes and walking in the sand. The same would be true at a neighbor’s pool party. I alluded to it a moment ago, but there is a nail salon across the street; I imagine some of you would feel much better walking over there and paying someone to wash your feet. And yes, they will certainly do a better job than I will and they may throw on a bit of color at the end, so you will get much more for your money, but there isn’t that sense of embarrassment. So why is it so uncomfortable in church?
I have thought a lot about this. I have had plenty of uncomfortable Maundy Thursdays to think about it. What I have come to is this: a lot of people come to church wanting to feel strong, useful, needed, important. It’s a formal setting and we want to look our best and at least appear to be upright and respectable. Isn’t it funny though, you can pay someone to care for your feet and it feels perfectly fine; perfectly respectable. But when someone does it for free, it becomes extremely awkward. There is something in the exchange of money that still gives you the power and the respect, but when it is done for free, as an act of charity (in the original sense of that word meaning self-giving love) then we don’t like it. That is when pride gets in the way. It isn’t really about the way your feet look, it is about wanting to feel strong and independent and in control. If someone is going to wash our feet, we had better be paying them to do it, lest someone look at us and think that we might actually need help.
Simon Peter, who was nicknamed the rock, was a strong person. That is why Jesus picked him. And he would go on to do amazing things for the Jesus and the Church. But he needed Jesus, more than Jesus needed him. He needed to be washed first, before he could go out and be any use to others. He didn’t want it. He tried to refuse. His pride put up a fight. But Jesus said “unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Before Peter could be of any real service to Jesus, he had to let Jesus serve him. Peter needed to give up the illusion of being strong and clean and put together, for at least a few moments, and accept the love that was being offered to him by Jesus, with all of his filth and his flaws. Only once he had accepted Jesus’s act of love could he truly go out and be an effective agent of love for others.
That’s the piece I think we miss sometimes. A lot of folks come to church wanting to be of service. They want to go out and do nice things for nice people and that can be a beautiful impulse; wanting to stand up for Jesus and show love and compassion to others. But the question I think we need to ask, and that this bizarre ritual that we do once a year forces us to examine: is where is our pride and where is our power? When we are showing love to others, are we always doing so from a position of power? Do we ever admit to our own vulnerability, or are we always just being strong for others? It’s great to want to go out and wash the feet of the poor and needy in the world, but have you been willing to let Jesus wash you?
Like it or not, we will never truly share in Jesus’s ministry in this world unless we let him wash us first. We need to truly receive his love before we can effectively share it. So maybe you came here tonight with your own plans. Maybe you thought you were coming because Father Kevin needed help at the altar. Maybe you thought you were coming because Mark Weisenreder begged you to step in as eucharistic minister. Maybe you thought you were coming tonight because you like to run the fancy dishwasher in the kitchen and everyone loves those who help clean up. Maybe you thought that your prayers are needed to help someone you love. All of that may be true, and more. But what may also be true, is that God may have his own plans for why he dragged you here tonight. Jesus might want you here tonight, and it might not be because he needs you; it might very well be because you need him. Maybe you aren’t as strong or as put-together as you pretend to be. Maybe you need help. Maybe you need love. Maybe you are the one who needs to be washed. Maybe that is why you are here tonight.
Inwardly Digest 