August 8, 2003
by John Filiatreau

CHICAGO - The Gospel of John tells the story of the Last Supper without mentioning the bread and wine of the first Eucharist.

Instead, it describes another strikingly intimate ritual: Jesus takes off his shirt, ties a towel around his waist, kneels, and washes his followers' feet, in what is both a demonstration of his love for them and a foreshadowing of the humiliating nature of his imminent death. Then he tells them, in effect, "Do this in remembrance of me."

"It's not the washing that's important, but the death that it symbolizes," said Frances Taylor Gench, who led a Bible study Thursday during the summer meeting of the Theological Task Force on Peace, Unity and Purity in the Presbyterian Church (USA). "The foot-washing removes the possibility of distance. ... It comes as a gift we did not merit or earn. We're face-to-face here with God's love for us. ... We're asked simply to receive it."

But it's not as simple as it seems.

Gench, a professor of New Testament at Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, VA, commented that foot-washing is probably not "a regular liturgical activity" for most Presbyterians - "frozen chosen" not inclined to display any part of the body, much less an unattractive part, one "that is usually hidden."

Gench said a women's group at the seminary she attended decided against having a foot-washing ritual because they realized the effect it would have on worshipers: "Half won't show up - and the other half will spend the afternoon getting pedicures."

Yet when she asked which of the task-force members had ever taken part in such a service, nearly all raised their hands.

And when she asked whether they found it harder to accept having their feet washed or to wash the feet of others, nearly all said the harder task was allowing someone else to do the washing. That brought a comment from Gench that learning to receive hospitality is essential to receiving Jesus's redeeming sacrifice as a gift that we could never have earned or deserved.

By kneeling and washing our feet, she said, Christ "invites us to break down our own barriers" to intimacy with others.

Gench is a thoughtful, studious, very reserved member of the task force who has demonstrated in previous Bible studies an uncanny ability to draw the others into intimacy.

Thursday's scripture study - of a portion of the 13th chapter of John - provoked some of the most honest and unguardedly emotional statements yet heard from the task force members.

Gench began by pointing out that the Eucharist, because it is "so sacred," tends to be divisive - prompting some people to vie for the privilege of presiding at the table, and others to pass judgments about worshipers' worthiness to take part.

Barbara Wheeler, the president of Auburn Theological Seminary in New York City, commented on "the oscillation" in Peter's role in the story. At first he wants to refuse Christ's gesture. Jesus reproves him, saying, "Unless I wash you, you have no share with me." Then Peter reverses course, saying, characteristically, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!"

"This sounds like the mixed messages we are getting from the church," she said, adding, "There's nothing we can do if the church won't accept it."

Jose Luis Torres-Milan, a pastor from Aguadilla, Puerto Rico, said people's reaction to the ritual "has to do with classes," pointing out that "the poorest of the poor" do not shy away from foot-washing. Years ago, he said, during a foot-washing service at his multi-ethnic church in Los Angeles, everyone was invited to participate, but it was the most impoverished who came forward without hesitation, asking, "Can I do it for you, pastor?" To this day, Torres-Milan said, the memory "brings tears to my eye. ... It's emotional."

Gench pointed out that, while "kneeling is such an unusual posture for us," it is less alien to the poor, who are pleased "that they can be the givers."

Vicktoria Curtiss, a pastor from Ames, IA, said she has found it "strangely humbling to be the receiver" of such a gesture.

Scott Anderson, the executive director of the Wisconsin Council of Churches, said his seminary decided against scheduling a Holy Week foot-washing ceremony because it would discomfit people, especially faculty members and other people in positions of authority.

Sarah Sanderson-Doughty, a pastor in Lowville, NY, said wistfully, "As much as I love my congregation, one of the things we have to work on is intimacy."

Martha Sadongei, a Native-American pastor from Phoenix, AZ, said intimacy is not threatening or strange to Native people. "To say it bluntly," she said bluntly, "it's a white fear. ... I think a lot of racial-ethnic folk are not fearful of intimacy, because we've sweated together. Our sweat has mingled. ... We've also suffered together, we've shared our grief and our fears. ... So, fear of intimate connections "is a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant fear."

When Gench pointed out that Jesus washed the feet of all of the apostles, even those of Judas, the apostle he knew would betray him, Milton "Joe" Coalter, a church-history professor and librarian who has been serving as acting president of Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary, said he found troubling "enigmatic references" in the text "to people who are not clean," which caused him to wonder "whether the circle is really inclusive or not."

Coalter noted that Jesus said his blessing was not for all of the apostles, saying, "I know those I have chosen." He told the group: "We have to be careful. ... The church doesn't decide who's chosen."

Mark Achtemeier, a professor at the University of Dubuque School of Theology in Iowa, said Jesus "does make it very clear that he's setting out something his followers are to imitate. ... There's something qualitatively different about Judas. Judas isn't coming back." He noted that John Calvin wrote in this connection about "grace genuinely offered but not received."

Torres-Milan spoke disparagingly of Christians who contribute generously to far-away missions, but cannot bring themselves to acknowledge or touch the needy in their midst.

"We don't deal with the Mexicans on our doorstep, or with the Latinos," he said. "It's easy to send a check, but we don't want to get involved. We don't want to humble ourselves. It means I have to open my life and be vulnerable." He asked: "Who's your neighbor? The one far away or the one close?"

Torres-Milan chastened task force members for being dismissive of Presbyterians not like themselves. He pointed out that, when he suggested Wednesday night that a video about the task force's work be made available in Spanish and Korean, his suggestion was dismissed out of hand with the comment that it would be "too expensive."

"Are we the church?" he asked. "Is our church English-speaking only? ... No one was willing to wash my feet ... and it's hard to swallow."

Gary Demarest, a retired pastor from Pasadena, CA, then confessed that he was raised in such a way that it is hard for him to believe that he can be taught anything of value by someone from another culture. "I'm aware of how little I've heard that in my whole journey. ... It's hard for me to accept that I can learn anything from Navajo culture. ... I've got to hear this more and for God's sake listen to it more. If I can't do that, then I'm out of touch with God," Demarest said. "That's very frightening to be at, at this point in life."

Demarest, a co-moderator of the task force, said he tends to expect Hispanics and Native Americans and others from cultures alien to his own to "just become like me." But he's becoming aware that he can and must learn "from people who, all of our lives, we were told were inferior."

Coalter said foot-washing "is a very powerful rite," a reminder that we all are sinners and are called to be servants of one another. ("I'm not trying to make it a sacrament.")

"It's awfully hard to get up from a foot-washing and get nasty," he observed.

Presbyterian News Service