“The Towel”
“The Towel”
John 13.1-17
John 13.1-17
Rome, about 30 AD. Emperor Tiberius rides a chariot with the emblems of his conquests emblazoned on the front. The crowds cheer him on, calling out his many titles: “Son of the Divine Augustus! Great High Priest! All Powerful Tribune!” He has wrapped himself in the flowing robes of his reign. An attendant holds a triumphal crown over his head. In one hand the Emperor holds a laurel branch, symbol of military victory; in the other, he grasps the Golden Eagle Scepter, symbolizing the power of Rome.
Jerusalem, about 30 AD. An upper room in an indistinct location of an unimportant province. The teacher and host of the meal strips himself down, wraps himself in a cleaning cloth, kneels on the floor, and takes in his hands the towel from around his waist. It is the lowest, most menial task in that culture: washing dirty, stinking feet. At one point in Israel’s history, not even Jewish slaves were permitted to do this, but only gentile slaves. And certainly, no Greek teacher ever washed his disciples’ feet.
So here we have two kings, two rulers, two “sons of god”. But the contrast could not be greater.
By Jesus taking the towel to wash feet we have both a model of servant leadership, but also the means through which ultimate victory is won.
So 1) Jesus’ taking the towel as a model for us. His new command, his new mandate on Mandate/ Maundy Thursday is for us to live this way, to love this way. From John 13: “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” (John 13.14-15)
So, Christ is our model to live and to love in service towards others.
2) But also, and more importantly, through this simple, sacrificial act (taking the towel and not the scepter), our Lord commences on that night the full giving of his whole self for the world. His actions are the means through which we are saved. He’ll wash clean not our stinking feet, but our stinking sin. As he wraps himself in a cleaning cloth, so see a picture of the Lord wrapping himself in our humanity, in suffering for us and our salvation.
In contrast to that other king, Tiberius, Jesus will ride no chariot, but rather will stumble carrying a cross. He’ll hear only mocking, ironic cries of “King of the Jews”. He’ll wear only a crown of thorns. He’ll be hung naked, shame-filled, in seeming defeat by about the worst death the Roman empire could devise.
And yet… you may even have never heard of Tiberius—and if you have, it’s probably only because you know this Jesus, the one on his knees with the towel. I want you to consider tonight how the reign of Jesus, this suffering servant, has stretched longer and further, and has spread among far more peoples, and shaped far more profoundly world history than any Roman Emperor ever has.
So how was he able to take the towel rather than the scepter? And how can we step in his footsteps—or rather, kneel with his knees, in love and service? Christ is indeed the omnipotent, divine son of God. But I’d like you consider with me this evening the human Jesus—the man who walked and cried and sweat and felt betrayed and was abandoned—and how he was able to take the towel.
St. John tells us why the perfect, human Jesus could so sacrifice and serve:
“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.” (John 13.3-5)
Jesus trusts his heavenly father, and because of this, can empty himself in love to others. He knows that he has come from God and is going back to God, and therefore he lays aside his garments, takes the towel, washes feet, goes to trial, submits to unjust condemnation, and goes to the cross. Because he knows who he is and where he’s ultimately going, he can act not out of self-preservation, not out of fear, not out of guilt or obligation, but fully, freely, sacrificially. Jesus possesses in that moment, on his knees with the towel, the freedom that comes only from faith: He’s come from God and he’s going to God, so he takes the towel.
We also have come from God and are going to God. We’ve come from God in a different way than Jesus, of course. We have been individually created by the God of love, made in his image, and baptized into Christ Jesus. Know tonight whose you are. But also know, ultimately, where you’re going. Promised eternal life by the death and resurrection of Christ, you are heading to an eternity of love and joy and rest and restoration. Now then, live in the freedom of that faith, not in arrogance or pride or self-preservation or fear or obligation or shame, or guilt—none of which can truly flow out in love.
One commentator put it this way, “The only holy garments ever assumed by the Lord and maker of the church” were the garments of a slave.[1]
Jesus took the towel and wrapped it around himself for us, both has a model of how to live but also as the means through which we are saved. Wear these garments in joy, knowing that the full extent of his love is upon you.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
[1] E. G. Rupp, Six Makers of English Religion, p. 49. Cited in F.F. Bruce, The Gospel of John, p. 280.