A long time ago when I was going to church, our youth group was led by a husband and wife team. They were passionate about leading young people to Christ and showing them how to live a good Christian life. I had many wonderful times with them and I miss the love I was shown. Things have changed since I left the church and most of it isn’t for the best. They have their own little church outside of town. They aren’t what they used to be.
It’s also not the point of this post. I had to introduce them in order to get my point across.
I watched a video from someone whom I’m subscribed to on youtube. From there it took me to a Mormon channel that had their song with a movie about Jesus. Jesus was a great guy. He had good morals and loved everyone no matter who or what they were. He knew how to handle an argument and took care of those in need. It may be a faerie tale but I think the story of Jesus holds a good message. Anyway, in this video I saw the bit where Jesus was washing the feet of his disciples. For some reason I went back many years ago to an Easter service our youth group had on a Thursday night. The husband and wife were there and I believe there were other adults. They spoke of how Jesus loved his disciples and washed their feet to teach them a lesson. We listened to the sermon and I noticed the other adults were bringing wash basins from the kitchen. They had towels and anointing oil and carried them to the front where they moved the chairs to make two semi circles. At first I thought that we had to wash their feet. Second thought was,”The fuck?”
They split the group into two (boys and girls) and had us sit in the chairs. One of the strangest things that has ever happened to me, happened in the next few minutes. The wife went one by one to each girl and removed their shoes. I watched as she gently untied and pulled off shoes, sandals, socks, toe rings until our bare feet surrounded her. The husband was doing the same to the boys. It was kinda funny seeing the uncomfortable faces at a grown man touching their feet, but it wasn’t meant to be intimate. Our youth leader then moved the wash basin to the first girl and proceeded to place a foot inside. She then took a pitcher of warm water and poured it over the girls foot. I watched a grown woman wash a child’s feet. She wasn’t scrubbing away, but making sure the water cleansed the feet. She was keeping her head bowed and stayed on her knees as she lovingly washed the girls feet. She did this to every one of us.
When it was my turn, I couldn’t help but get this overwhelming sense of pure compassion and love from my youth leader. She washed my feet one by one and poured anointing oil over the water and rubbed it in. She used the towel to dry them and kissed the tops of my feet. For some reason I started crying. I couldn’t help it. This woman who was a teacher and a leader to us was prostrating herself and washing our feet, something only servants did for their masters. I was genuinely humbled by that. I could feel that she was absolutely sincere as to what she was doing. She loved us. She loved these little misfit children who came to church for a family we didn’t have at home. It wasn’t the fact that God compelled her to do it. It was the love she felt for us.
I honestly can’t say the same for the husband. I still see the wife out and about. She knows how I am and what I do, but she doesn’t let that get in the way of giving me a hug and telling me she loves me. Every time she sees me she never fails to do that. I believe she’s one of the few Christians left in my life who actually practices the teaching of Jesus. And for that, I thank her.