4/2/26 John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Back in my early years of being a pastor, back when I was
in my twenties, before my hair had strands of gray mixed into the brown and
before my knees felt sore in the winter … I used to hate it when people
referred to me as a “kid.” I was fresh out of seminary, ready to put everything
I had learned into action and fully focused on the seriousness of ministry, so
when people would say “you can’t be old enough to be a pastor” or think I was
part of the youth group, it felt disheartening, frustrating and condescending.
And sometimes it was meant to be, sometimes it came from people’s insecurities,
or as a way to be dismissive or “put me in my place.” But sometimes it was
honest and simply an observation. After some time, I found myself suddenly aware
that I was no longer hearing those comments and I kind of missed them.
But sometimes comments about age can be said with the
intent to be condescending or discrediting. We do it with teenagers and young
adults who are finding their voice and wanting to be heard and taken seriously.
We smile and nod or say “you will understand when you are older” and dismiss
them. And we do it with folks who are older and want to know that their wisdom
and insight is heard and valued. We smile and nod and call them “cute” or
confused. So, I wonder what it felt like when, in this passage from John, Jesus
refers to the disciples as “little children.”
On the one hand, he had every reason to call them little
children out of frustration and disappointment for how they were acting. Jesus is
nearing the end of his earthly time with the disciples and in this passage he has
this very intimate and moving time with them. Throughout their time together,
he has poured himself out in love to them. He has instructed them, nurtured
their faith, guided them, corrected them, demonstrated miracles, brought
someone back to life in front of them and yet, here we are … the end of the
road and even as he does this very intimate act of love in kneeling down and
washing the dirt from their feet, Peter still shows a lack of understanding,
Jesus knows Peter will deny he knows him and Jesus also knows that Judas, who
is right there with them, will betray him. They are like “little children”-
misguided, foolish, impulsive, stubborn, misbehaving little children.
And yet he still does it- all of it. He takes their feet
into his hands and washes them like a servant would. He breaks bread and
invites them to eat his body and blood. And he walks toward the cross, moving
toward the suffering and death, the great outpouring of love …. He still does
it … knowing they still don’t really get it. And he tells us to do the same …
to love one another … even when we are frustrated and annoyed and angry and
heartbroken and sick of everyone. He says you gotta do this. You have to love
one another … even when you are acting like little children.
This is no easy task. We live in deeply divided times.
Times when we are being pulled apart from each other and encouraged to hate one
another for all kinds of reasons. A Pew Research report posted on March 5th
of this year, showed that “Americans are more likely than people in other
countries surveyed in 2025 to question the morality of their fellow countrymen.”
It goes on to say that “The United States is the only place we surveyed where
more adults … describe the morality and ethics of others living in the country
as bad … than as good.” So basically … a lot of
us think the rest of us are bad. We are the only country where most people
point to their fellow Americans and say they are immoral and unethical. We are
deeply divided. And yet, Jesus tells us we have to love one another.
While I can certainly see ways in which being called “little
children” can be dismissive or condescending, I also can see how it can be said
with love and tenderness. Jesus had good reason to feel frustrated with the
disciples. He was laying it all on the line, he was literally pouring himself
out in love, he had taught them and shown them again and again and now it’s not
just that they weren’t understanding, they were going to deny ever knowing him
and turn him over to the authorities to be killed. And yet, when he calls them “little
children” I hear a gentleness, a deep love. Children are innocent, they are
trying their best, they have a purity in their emotions and intentions, they
are vulnerable, their small size, their undeveloped brains, call us to protect
them, take care of them and love them. I hear that desire to love, protect and
care for the disciples, from Jesus. I wonder if when he washed their feet he
felt the soft spots and remembered that they were once babies, innocent and
needy.
Over the years I have taken a lot of teenagers on week-long
“mission trips.” I led several groups on these trips at the various churches I
served. I always used a company that set up the sites and the framework and
paired us with teens from other churches. They had a kind of formula for the
way the week went. Every time, on the last night we would have a worship
service and the service would include this scripture reading from John. Afterwards,
the young adults who were leading the site would come out with basins and towels
and wash the feet of the adult leaders. We would then go around the circle of
teens sitting in a fellowship hall or a gym of some sort, in the middle of summer,
after a week of painting houses, cleaning and running around, and we would wash
their feet. Every single time … every time I went on those trips and there were
many, the teens began to cry. Next to the friends they wanted to act cool for,
next to the people of the opposite gender who brought out their awkwardness,
they let the tears flow as I held their feet in my hands, poured water over
them and gently patted them dry. The evening ended with prayer, reflection,
hugs and Kleenex.
I never could fully name why exactly it always caused this
emotional reaction in the teens. It is hard to be a teen. It’s this space
between happily playing make believe, watching cartoons and displaying dolls -to
living away from your parents, paying bills and searching for a life partner.
It’s this space between happily being called “little children” and pushing hard
against anything that might label them as a “child.” They very much do not want
to be seen as a child and yet they still are learning and growing and figuring
out life. And honestly, aren’t we all still learning and growing and trying to
figure out life? Finding out how to be independent and strong while also
longing for care and connection?
Maybe that’s why Jesus washed the disciples’ feet, to show
them that he sees the little child inside them, he sees their mistakes, their
hurts, their fear and confusion and loves them anyway. He sees them without
whatever strong front they may feel they need to put up. He sees the dirtiest,
smelliest part of them, and treats it with love and tenderness. Maybe that’s
why it was so meaningful to all those teenagers. Here they were trying their
best to “look cool” act grown-up, do what they are supposed to do, make sense
of it all and then someone comes and sees their smelliest and dirtiest part and
demonstrates the unconditional love of Christ.
I hope that’s what you feel tonight. Whether or not you
have your feet washed. I hope through the hymns, the prayers said together, the
broken bread and poured out juice, the recited words of Christ, the dirty feet
made clean, the warmth of this space, the open hearts of each one here, I hope
you feel the messiest parts of yourself seen and loved by God. I hope you feel
the love of Christ poured out for you as he makes his way to the cross, doing
this ultimate act of love for an imperfect people … for his “little children.”
