murdered albinos and biblical feet

We follow a tradition of washing feet in our church. It makes many people uncomfortable but for the wrong reasons; my feet are dirty, my nail polish is bad, fuzz between toes.

This misses the point completely.

The leader of the church is called to wash feet so that they never forget they are to emulate Jesus who though the King of Kings took the task of a slave.

The Bible records that Jesus, God-incarnate, washed the feet of his disciples. This was the lowest job he could have taken. North Americans can't understand this but illegal immigrants do.

I watched a PBS piece that documented illegal immigrants mentoring new arrivals on how to get jobs;
 "Tell them that job is not for white people, that is a job for Mexicans. They will always give it to you. White people don't want that job"

The disciples, the synagogue leaders, they didn't want the job. They might as well have been saying give it to the Mexicans.

When we understand how low Jesus made himself for us, than it is impossible for us to stoop any lower. He took the lowest position. He became the sacrifice.

This all became real to me when I was in Tanzania in 2009. I was moved by the Holy Spirit to wash the feet of those in a church I was visiting. It was very far from town. It had no electricity, no pavement. No running water.


I took off my fancy outer vestment and wrapped it around my waist. The place fell silent. I was a mzungu, a "white man" a person rich enough to travel the world. Why was I acting like a crazy man?

My friend translated for me that I would like to demonstrate the love of God for them by washing their feet. The first person to walk forward was a grandmother holding her albino grandchild.

The  summer before the Tanzanian government had  issued a law and made a pubic statement declaring it illegal to kill albinos. A rumor had started up North that they were good luck which resulted in a number of them hunted, killed and butchered, the body parts sold to the local witch doctor to use in good luck potions. Honest, read this  http://newbbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/7518049.stm

I took the girls feet in my hands and washed them. Rural feet do not own shoes. They trod where animals do, walking in mud, dust, animal and human feces. These are the feet of the bible. They are not manicured. They have no sock fuzz because they do not own socks.

I was struck by the reality that others in her country were trying to hold these same feet so they could kill her and sell them to a witch doctor for cash.

I was holding them because Jesus was killed in her place and bought her freedom with his blood.

Satan was hunting me and Jesus took my place. 

I will never forget that day; the grit in the water, the faces and feet, the color of the towels. I felt my sin wash from me. I threw the old me out with the foot water.

If you could see what has been washed from my soul, you would puke. Honest.

Do not forget this fact; Jesus was slaughtered in your place and the night before it all happened he willing did the lowest thing he could do. What is keeping you from doing the same?