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It’s not easy watching Jesus wash these feet.

To see the hands of God massaging the toes of men is, well . . . it’s not right. The disciples should be washing his feet. Nathanael should pour the water. Andrew should carry the towel. But they don’t. No one does. Rather than serve, they argue over which one is the greatest (Luke 22:24).

What disappointment their words must have brought Jesus.

"I’m the number one apostle."

"No, I’m much more spiritual than you."

"You guys are crazy. I brought more people to hear Jesus than anyone."

As they argue, the basin sits in the corner, untouched. The towel lies on the floor, unused. The servant’s clothing hangs on the wall, unworn. Each disciple sees these things. Each disciple knows their purpose. But no one moves, except Jesus. As they bicker, he stands.

But he doesn’t speak. He removes his robe and takes the servant’s wrap off of the wall. Taking the pitcher, he pours the water into the basin. He kneels before them with the basin and sponge and begins to wash. The towel that covers his waist is also the towel that dries their feet.

It’s not right.

Isn’t it enough that these hands will be pierced in the morning? Must they scrub grime tonight? And the disciples . . . do they deserve to have their feet washed? Their affections have waned; their loyalties have wavered.

We want to say . . .

Look at John, Jesus. This is the same John who told you to destroy the city. The same John who demanded that you censure a Christ-follower who wasn’t in your group. Why are you washing his feet?

And James! Skip James. He wanted the seat of honor. He and his brother wanted special treatment. Don’t give it to him. Give him the towel. Let him wash his own feet. Let him learn a lesson.

And while you are at it, Jesus, you might as well skip Philip. He told you there wasn’t enough food to feed the large crowd. You tested him, and he flunked. You gave him the chance, and he blew it.

And Peter? Sure, these are the feet that walked on water, but they’re also the feel that thrashed about in the deep. He didn’t believe you. Sure he confessed you as the Christ, but he’s also the one who told you that you didn’t have to die. He doesn’t deserve to have his feet washed.

None of them do. When you were about to be stoned in Nazareth, did they come to your defense? When the Pharisees took up rocks to kill you, did they volunteer to take your place? You know what they have done.

And what’s more, you know what they are about to do!

You can already hear them snoring in the garden. They say they’ll stay awake, but they won’t. You’ll sweat blood; they’ll saw logs.

You can hear them sneaking away from the soldiers. They make promises tonight. They’ll make tracks tomorrow.

Look around the table, Jesus. Out of the twelve, how many will stand with you in Pilate’s court? How many will share with you the Roman whip? And when you fall under the weight of the cross, which disciple will be close enough to spring to your side and carry your burden?

None of them will. Not one. A stranger will be called because no disciple will be near.

Don’t wash their feet, Jesus. Tell them to wash yours.

That’s what we want to say. Why? Because of the injustice? Because we don’t want to see our King behaving as a servant? God on his hands and knees, his hair hanging around his face? Do we object because we don’t want to see God washing feet?

Or do we object because we don’t want to do the same?

Stop and think for a minute. Don’t we have some people like the disciples in our world?

Double-tongued promise-breakers. Fair-weather friends. What they said and what they did are two different things. Oh, maybe they didn’t leave you alone at the cross, but maybe they left you alone with the bills . . .
Or your question.
Or your illness.
Or maybe you were just left at the altar,
Or in the cold,
Holding the bag.
Vows forgotten.
Contract abandoned.

Logic says: "Put up your fists."
Jesus says: "Fill up the basin."
Logic says: "Bloody his nose."
Jesus says: "Wash his feet."
Logic says: "She doesn’t deserve it."
Jesus says: "You’re right, but you don’t, either.

I don’t understand how God can be so kind to us, but he is. He kneels before us, takes our feet in his hands, and washes them. Please understand that in washing the disciples’ feet, Jesus is washing ours. You and I are in this story. We are at the table. That’s us being cleansed, not from our dirt, but from our sins.

And the cleansing is not just a gesture; it is a necessity. Listen to what Jesus said: "If I don’t wash your feet, you are not one of my people" (John 13:8).

Jesus did not say, "if you don’t wash your feet." Why not? Because we cannot cleanse our own filth. We cannot remove our own sin. Our feet must be in his hands.

Don’t miss the meaning here. To place our feet in the basin of Jesus is to place the filthiest parts of our lives into his hands. In the ancient East, people’s feet were caked with mud and dirt. The servant of the feast saw to it that the feet were cleaned. Jesus is assuming the role of the servant. He will wash the grimiest part of your life.

If you let him. The water of the Servant comes only when we confess that we are dirty. Only when we confess that we are caked with filth, that we have walked forbidden trails and followed the wrong paths.

We tend to be proud like Peter and resist. "I’m not that dirty, Jesus. Just sprinkle a few drops on me and I’ll be fine."

What a lie! "If we say we have no sin, we are fooling ourselves, and the truth is not in us" (I John 1:8).

We will never be cleansed until we confess we are dirty. We will never be pure until we admit we are filthy. And we will never be able to wash the feet of those who have hurt us until we allow Jesus, the one we have hurt, to wash ours.

You see, that is the secret of forgiveness. You will never forgive anyone more than God has already forgiven you. Only by letting him wash your feet can you have strength to wash those of another.

Still hard to imagine? Is it still hard to consider the thought of forgiving the one who hurt you?

If so, go one more time to the room. Watch Jesus as he goes from disciple to disciple. Can you see him? Can you hear the water splash? Can you hear him shuffle on the floor to the next person? Good. Keep that image.

John 13:12 says, "when he had finished washing their feet . . ."

Please note, he finished washing their feet. That means he left no one out. Why is that important? Because that also means he washed the feet of Judas. Jesus washed the feet of his betrayer. He gave his traitor equal attention. In just a few hours Judas’s feet would guide the Roman guard to Jesus. But at this moment they are caressed by Christ.

That’s not to say it was easy for Jesus.

That’s not to say it is easy for you.

That is to say that God will never call you to do what he hasn’t already done.
 
http://www.maxlucado.com/ (http://www.maxlucado.com/)

Thank you.   :) That puts it in perspective.

Ollie  

 :)

Excellent thread!
Thanks!

 Still He Walked

He could hear the crowds screaming "crucify" "crucify"...
He could hear the hatred in their voices,
These were His chosen people.
He loved them, and they were going to crucify Him.
He was beaten, bleeding and weakened...
His heart was broken,
But still He walked.
He could see the crowd as He came from the palace.
He knew each of the faces so well.
He had created them.
He knew every smile, laugh, and shed tear,
But now they were contorted with rage and anger...
His heart broke,
But still He walked.

Was He scared?
You and I would have been so.
His humanness would have mandated that He was.
He felt alone.
His disciples had left, denied, and even betrayed Him.
He searched the crowd for a loving face and He saw very few.
Then He turned His eyes to the only one that mattered.
And He knew that He would never be alone.
He looked back at the crowd, at the people who were spitting At Him,
throwing rocks at Him and mocking Him and he knew
That because of Him, they would never be alone.
So for them, He walked.

The sounds of the hammer striking the spikes echoed through the crowd.
The sounds of His cries echoed even louder, the cheers of the crowd, as His hands and feet Were nailed to the cross, intensified with each blow.
Loudest of all was the still small voice inside his Heart that whispered
"I AM WITH YOU, MY SON",
And God's heart broke.
He had let His Son walk.

Jesus could have asked God to end his suffering,
But instead He asked God to forgive.
Not to forgive Him, but to forgive the ones who were persecuting Him.
As He hung on that cross, dying an unimaginable death,
He looked out and saw, not only the faces in the crowd,
But also, the face of every person yet to be,
And His heart filled with love.
As His body was dying, His heart was alive.
Alive with the limitless, unconditional love He feels for each of us.
That is why He walked.

When I forget how much My God loves me, I remember His walk.
When I wonder if I can be forgiven, I remember His walk.
When I need reminded of how to live like Christ, I think of His walk.
And to show Him how much I love Him,
I wake up each morning, turn my eyes to Him,
And I walk.

~Source: Bro. Paul Ciniraj, India

AMEN SINCEREHEART!

Thanks sister - A worship thread without a hint of hate or war. We need more of this, and I pray we can all take a break to simply give thanks and worship our Lord and Saviour.

Love In Christ,
Tom

GOOD!!

Brother Love :)

<:)))><

It's not every day that you get a second chance. Most of the time you're glad to get a first one. "Get this to me by 3 p.m. or you're fired!" "I'm sorry, but your grades aren't high enough to admit you to the program." "I don't love you any more."
The fact is, we all fail. We do things we regret. We say things we deplore. And we hurt people we love.

But we're not alone in this. Even the Apostle Paul was no stranger to failure.

I do not understand the things I do. I do not do what I want to do, and I do the things I hate. (Romans 7:15)

He goes on: I want to do the things that are good, but I do not do them. I do not do the things I want to do, but I do the bad things I do not want to do.

Have you been there? Have you shared Paul's frustration? If you have, then listen as he shows us the way out of our despair:

Who will save me from this body that brings death? I thank God for saving me through Jesus Christ our Lord! So now, those who are in Christ Jesus are not judged guilty (Romans 7:24-8:1).

If I had been Paul, I might have put a "Hallelujah!" on the end of that paragraph. What an incredible statement. What an awesome reality!

Need a second chance? You've come to the right place. Second chances are the specialty of our Savior!

http://www.maxlucado.com/  (http://www.maxlucado.com/)

This one made me laugh!  :D

Our Weakness, God’s Power

THE KINGDOM of heaven. Its citizens are drunk on wonder. Consider the case of Sarai. She is in her golden years, but God promises her a son. She gets excited. She visits the maternity shop and buys a few dresses. She plans her shower and remodels her tent. . . but no son. She eats a few birthday cakes and blows out a lot of candles. . . still no son. She goes through a decade of wall calendars . . . still no son.

So Sarai decides to take matters into her own hands. ("Maybe God needs me to take care of this one.")

She convinces Abram that time is running out. ("Face it, Abe, you ain’t getting any younger, either.") She commands her maid, Hagar, to go into Abram’s tent and see if he needs anything. ("And I mean ‘anything’!") Hagar goes in a maid. She comes out a mom. And the problems begin.

Hagar is haughty. Sarai is jealous. Abram is dizzy from the dilemma. And God calls the baby boy a "wild donkey"—an appropriate name for one born out of stubbornness and destined to kick his way into history.

It isn’t the cozy family Sarai expected. And it isn’t a topic Abram and Sarai bring up very often at dinner.

Finally, fourteen years later, when Abram is pushing a century of years and Sarai ninety… when Abram has stopped listening to Sarai’s advice, and Sarai has stopped giving it...when the wallpaper in the nursery is faded and the baby furniture is several seasons out of date...when the topic of the promised child brings sighs and tears and long looks into a silent sky...God pays them a visit and tells them they had better select a name for their new son.

Abram and Sarai have the same response: laughter. They laugh partly because it is too good to happen and partly because it might. They laugh because they have given up hope, and hope born anew is always funny before it is real.

They laugh at the lunacy of it all.

Abram looks over at Sarai—toothless and snoring in her rocker, head back and mouth wide open, as fruitful as a pitted prune and just as wrinkled. And he cracks up. He tries to contain it, but he can’t. He has always been a sucker for a good joke.

Sarai is just as amused. When she hears the news, a cackle escapes before she can contain it. She mumbles something about her husband’s needing a lot more than what he’s got and then laughs again.

They laugh because that is what you do when someone says he can do the impossible. They laugh a little at God, and a lot with God— for God is laughing, too. Then, with the smile still on his face, he gets busy doing what he does best—the unbelievable.

He changes a few things—beginning with their names. Abram, the father of one, will now be Abraham, the father of a multitude. Sarai, the barren one, will now be Sarah, the mother.

But their names aren’t the only things God changes. He changes their minds. He changes their faith. He changes the number of their tax deductions. He changes the way they define the word impossible.

But most of all, he changes Sarah’s attitude about trusting God. Were she to hear Jesus’ statement about being poor in spirit, she could give a testimony: "He’s right. I do things my way, I get a headache. I let God take over, I get a son. You try to figure that out. All I know is I am the first lady in town to pay her pediatrician with a Social Security check."

AMEN AGAIN SISTER SINCEREHEART,

I think that you just gave me an answer that I've been praying about. I need to STOP completely more often, Study HIS WORD, and enjoy the peace and joy of my Lord and Saviour. Instead of looking for peace and joy, my Lord and Saviour will give it to me if I just become still at HIS feet.

Love In Christ,
Tom

 :D Isn't He wonderful!  :D

Sister, HE is wonderful. I don't believe in chance. I have many pages of favorite Scriptures by my computer that I read every day. Before I read your post, here's what I read:

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath blessed us with all spiritual blessings in heavenly places in Christ:  Ephesians 1:3

And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.  Philippians 4:7

Just the the thoughts in these beautiful Scriptures are wealth and peace beyond imagination. We both know they are not just thoughts, rather they are REALITY in Christ. We look for all kinds of things in this short life, but HE has already given us more than we could ever thank HIM for.

Love In Christ,
Tom

i wish i read this thread before i wrote what i wrote on the election forum at the debate site.....

malachai is resounding in me after i read your post: thanks:

"i have loved you" says the Lord of Hosts and you say, " how have you loved us"....  

Hello Digme,

I do understand completely. I remember many conversations with people over the years about why so many sweet Christians get sick, suffer illness, or have bad things happen in their family. I think that the real truth is we are in this world, but this is not our home. The devil doesn't like us and would like to tear us down to the point that we are no longer witnesses for Christ. However, this backfires many times and Christians sometimes get closer to their Lord and Saviour than ever. Maybe it is those hard times we can look back on and say that everything appeared to be dark and without hope until I realized my Lord and Saviour was with me. This may also be why some of the happiest Christians I've ever met had little or almost nothing. But that's not possible - they had everything in Jesus.

Love In Christ,
Tom

YES! Amen.

"This may also be why some of the happiest Christians I've ever met had little or almost nothing. But that's not possible - they had everything in Jesus"

Exactly!  :D

The Good of the Thorn

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her shoes as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease.
 
During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough, her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose annual holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come.
 
What's worse, Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "She has no idea what I'm feeling," thought Sandra with a shudder.
 
"Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered aloud. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?
 
"Good afternoon, can I help you?"
 
The shop clerk's approach startled her.
 
"I... I need an arrangement, "stammered Sandra. "For Thanksgiving?
 
Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special?" asked the shop clerk.
 
"I'm convinced that flowers tell stories," she continued.
 
"Are you looking for something that conveys 'gratitude' this Thanksgiving?
 
"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted out. "In the last five months, everything that could go wrong has gone wrong. " Sandra regretted her outburst, and was surprised when the shop clerk said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you."
 
Then the door's small bell rang, and the shop clerk said,
"Hi Barbara...let me get your order." She politely excused
herself and walked toward a small workroom, then quickly reappeared, carrying an arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Except the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped...there were no flowers. "Want this in a box?" asked the clerk.
 
Sandra watched for the customer's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems with no flowers!?! She waited for laughter, but neither woman laughed. "Yes, please," Barbara replied with an appreciative smile. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I wouldn't be so moved by its significance, but I can feel it right here, all over again," she said as she gently tapped her chest.
 
"Uhh," stammered Sandra, "that lady just left with, uhh... she just left with no flowers!"
 
"Right... I cut off the flowers. That's the Special... I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.
 
"Oh, come on, you can't tell me someone is willing to pay for that?" exclaimed Sandra.
 
"Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today," explained the clerk. "She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she was facing major surgery."
 
"That same year I had lost my husband, "continued the clerk," and for the first time in my life, I had to spend the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.
 
"So what did you do?" asked Sandra. "I learned to be thankful for thorns," answered the clerk quietly. "I've always thanked God for good things in life and never thought to ask Him why those good things happened to me, but when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time for me to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the 'flowers' of life, but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted, and from His consolation we learn to comfort others.
 
"Sandra sucked in her breath as she thought about the very thing her friend had tried to tell her. "I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God." Just then someone else walked in
the shop.
 
"Hey, Phil!" shouted the clerk to the balding, rotund man. "My wife sent me in to get our usual Thanksgiving arrangement... twelve thorny, long-stemmed stems!" laughed Phil as the clerk handed him a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerator.
 
"Those are for your wife?" asked Sandra incredulously. "Do you mind me asking why she wants something that looks like that?
 
"No...I'm glad you asked," Phil replied. "Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but with the Lord's grace and guidance, we slogged through problem after problem. He rescued our marriage. Jenny here (the clerk) told me she kept a vase of rose stems to remind her of what she learned from "thorny" times, and that was good enough for me. I took home some of those stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific "problem" and give thanks to Him for what that problem taught us."
 
As Phil paid the clerk, he said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"
 
"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life." Sandra said to the clerk. "It's all too... fresh."
 
"Well," the clerk replied carefully, "my experience has shown me that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, it was a crown of thorns that Jesus wore so we might know His love. Don't resent the thorns."
 
Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident, she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take those twelve long-stemmed thorns, please," she managed to choke out.
 
"I hoped you would," said the clerk gently. "I'll have them ready in a minute."
 
"Thank you. What do I owe you?" asked Sandra. "Nothing." said the clerk.
 
"Nothing but a promise to allow God to heal your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me. "The clerk smiled and handed a card to Sandra.
 
"I'll attach this card to your arrangement, but maybe you'd like to read it first."
 
It read:
 
"Dear God, I have never thanked you for my thorns. I have thanked you a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorns. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear; teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed closer to you along the path of pain. Show me that, through my tears, the colors of your rainbow look much more brilliant."
 
~Syrenthia Anderson
(from Sermons.org)

Sincereheart,

AMEN! - Very nice Sister.

excellent thread...I always enjoy reading lucado's stories and sermons. He has a God given talent with words and puts things in such perspective...I have a book that i'm reading now...and in th enext few days when i have time i'll post something that he wrote that touched my hearts and i pray that it will yours...I understand i've been inactive on the site for the past few months...and i apologize...a lot of things have been happening and the Lord's being good to me...in both disciplining me and lifting me up so that i can carry His word. I'm glad to be back and expect to see me a little more active...God Bless and keep you

In His Service,
Joshua

and in th enext few days when i have time i'll post something that he wrote that touched my hearts and i pray that it will yours...

Just so you don't forget!  ;)

I look forward to reading when you share it!  :D

Um, I thot this was a Debate column...


    8)


     ???

Well...... maybe it is!  :P But I started this one when things were particularly nasty in here and there were cries of "It's Not Fair".... ;)

Well okay sincereheart.  Don't get mad at me.  


  (http://www.beautifulclipart.com/clipart/angels/anangel.gif)

ROFL! Now who could ever be mad at you?  ;)