Of all the rituals of Holy Week/Triduum, it is most often Holy Thursday’s footwashing that, somehow, haunts me throughout the whole week. Sometimes it’s a memory of being with a Primitive Baptist congregation in Alabama one Sunday as they celebrated one of the four Lord’s Suppers they observed during the course of the year—with footwashing at all four, because it’s what Jesus commanded. Other times I recall that Holy Thursday when, for the first (and only) time in my ministerial musical life, I was able to remove my organ shoes during the liturgy, have my feet washed, and wash another’s in return.
This year, I will be haunted by the image captured in a sentence by Frederick Buechner:
“I saw where thou didst wash the dusty feet of those who, when the soldiers came to haul thee off to death, took to their well-washed heels.”
I thought that I’d made connections between footwashing and very nearly every other substantial part of Holy Week. But never had I made a connection between footwashing and betrayal. It wasn’t possible for Peter, or the other disciples—and it’s not possible for me—to turn our backs on Jesus without turning our well-washed heels as well.
The beautiful truth of the Triduum, however, is that it doesn’t end at betrayal, with back-and-heel-turning, but rather with the joy and glory of being fully washed anew in water and the Spirit.
A blessed Triduum and joyous Eastertide to all!
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