Maundy Thursday & Holy Feet
It’s a holy day. A day of Passover and the recollection of liberation. A day of dinner tables and holy meals. A day when Christians remember Jesus’ last supper and footwashing.
Maundy Thursday is about risking vulnerability in washing sandy desert feet and having our sandy desert feet washed. It’s about love so boundless that it remains at and extends the table to even the messiest and darkest parts of humanity: betrayal, denial, abandonment.
It’s a day that honors feet, that honors the journey, that sees the journey, that enters relationship and shared journeys through the ritual of washing.
What do you think of feet?
Do you notice them? Are you repulsed by them? When do or don’t you feel comfortable showing them or taking off your shoes?
Lately in my at-home yoga practice, I’ve been invited to do some gentle massages on the arches of my feet. Let me tell you, it has brought a tear to my eyes more than once. I think there is something deep that we touch when we attempt to honor our feet; when we come in contact with feet that carry our bodies through our days.
On this Holy Thursday, I’m thinking about tired feet. Flat feet. Broken feet. Feet that can’t do what they once did, or never could. Toenail-polished feet. Happy feet. Feet that settle (or squeeze) into high heels, boots and sneakers. Feet that are handled by doctors, pedicurists, hospice nurses.
Feet that carry hospital workers around as they care for the sick. Feet of delivery drivers, food workers, busy parents, and children.
How can we metaphorically (or literally) honor our and others’ feet today?
How can we honor our journeys, and extend the table to the people whose feet we are most repulsed by (maybe even our own), by ours or society’s judgment? Whose feet are you invited to wash today?
If you’re able and inclined, take some moments to sit with your feet together, heels touching. Gently rub along the arches, and see what comes up. Remember and give thanks for the many ways your feet show up for you. May they be guided by love that knows no bounds.
Maundy Thursday is about risking vulnerability in washing sandy desert feet and having our sandy desert feet washed. It’s about love so boundless that it remains at and extends the table to even the messiest and darkest parts of humanity: betrayal, denial, abandonment.
It’s a day that honors feet, that honors the journey, that sees the journey, that enters relationship and shared journeys through the ritual of washing.
What do you think of feet?
Do you notice them? Are you repulsed by them? When do or don’t you feel comfortable showing them or taking off your shoes?
Lately in my at-home yoga practice, I’ve been invited to do some gentle massages on the arches of my feet. Let me tell you, it has brought a tear to my eyes more than once. I think there is something deep that we touch when we attempt to honor our feet; when we come in contact with feet that carry our bodies through our days.
On this Holy Thursday, I’m thinking about tired feet. Flat feet. Broken feet. Feet that can’t do what they once did, or never could. Toenail-polished feet. Happy feet. Feet that settle (or squeeze) into high heels, boots and sneakers. Feet that are handled by doctors, pedicurists, hospice nurses.
Feet that carry hospital workers around as they care for the sick. Feet of delivery drivers, food workers, busy parents, and children.
How can we metaphorically (or literally) honor our and others’ feet today?
How can we honor our journeys, and extend the table to the people whose feet we are most repulsed by (maybe even our own), by ours or society’s judgment? Whose feet are you invited to wash today?
If you’re able and inclined, take some moments to sit with your feet together, heels touching. Gently rub along the arches, and see what comes up. Remember and give thanks for the many ways your feet show up for you. May they be guided by love that knows no bounds.
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