Who's Washing Your Feet?

Recently, I experienced a tough situation where I was at my wits’ end. Some rough news was shared, and I was a mess. Of course, my first impulse was to do what leaders do and keep this to myself and put on a game-day face. Right? WRONG! That’s what prideful leaders do who think they should be immune to pain, always perfect, never real.

Remember the story of Peter who didn’t want Jesus to wash his feet? Let’s take a quick look.

Jesus got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”      

Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

 Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”

John 13:4-9

Why didn’t Peter want Jesus to wash his feet? Maybe he was embarrassed that he hadn’t tried to serve first. Maybe he was too full of pride to receive that type of service. To be sure, accepting a gift of service to oneself means you are willing to be vulnerable, willing to have needs. In short, allowing ourselves to be served requires humility.

I remember being in a CEO’s office in Paris, France one day. It’s the only CEO’s office—the only office of any type, for that matter—I have ever been in that had a shoeshine chair in it. Eric Celerier, the CEO, asked me to sit in the chair, roll up my pant legs, and let him shine my shoes. Predictably, I declined, saying my shoes were okay, and he did not need to take his time for my shoes.

Why was my first impulse to not let Eric serve me? It was nothing but pride. However, Eric convinced me I should let him shine my shoes, and he did a beautiful job of it.

Back to my tough situation. Into my office that day walked a dear friend. He asked how I was doing, and instead of hiding behind my pride I told him, “not so good,” and cried a river of tears into his shoulder. I opened myself up to receive his care for me that day. All pride was surely gone, and it was the best encounter of my week.

So, will you let someone serve you this week? Maybe you could begin by answering more honestly next time someone asks, “How are you?”. Instead of giving a glib or fake answer, try being real, even going so far as to share the tough situation you’re in the middle of. You’ll be surprised at how much your friends want to love you. And you’ll be giving them the blessing of serving by humbling yourself enough to receive.