Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. And you are clean, but not every one of you.” [John 13:8-10 (ESV)]
Apparently speechless when Jesus washed their feet, John records no one objecting to His doing so until Jesus came to Peter. After protesting that Jesus never would never wash his feet, the Lord warned the disciple that unless he allowed Jesus to wash him, Peter wouldn’t belong to Him. Eager to show his devotion to Jesus, Peter then enthusiastically offered the rest of his body for cleansing. Jesus explained that, because Peter already bathed, only his feet needed washing, while adding that not all of those present were clean. Since we know the rest of the story, we know He was referring to Judas. The reference to Judas not being clean, however, tells us that this exchange is about more than washing the filth of Judah’s roads off the disciple’s feet. Since Jesus wasn’t giving a hygiene lesson, what did He mean?
When Jesus said he must wash Peter’s feet, the Greek word used was niptó, a word used for washing or wetting only a part of the body, as we would with our hands before dinner or as Jesus did with the men’s feet. But, when Jesus said the men already were clean because they had bathed, the Greek word used was louó which meant bathing the entire body as we would in a long hot shower. Using both words in John 13:10, Jesus said that the one who bathed (louó) was completely clean and didn’t need to wash (niptó) except for his feet. What do bathing and washing have to do with mankind’s relationship with Jesus?
The total bath—the louó—occurs when we come to Jesus. It is when our sins are forgiven “as far as the east is from the west” [Psalm 103:12] and our scarlet sins are made “as white as snow.” [Isaiah 1:18] Once-and-done, the bath of salvation does not need to be done over and over again. With the exception of the unclean Judas, all of the disciples had bathed by trusting and believing in Jesus. When Jesus died on the cross, He paid the price for our sins (past, present, and future) once and for all time.
Having once been bathed and made new in Christ, we don’t need another bath. That our eternal salvation is secure in Christ, however, doesn’t negate the need to repent of our daily sins and ask for His forgiveness. No matter how clean they were every morning, the disciples’ feet got soiled while walking through Judah’s dirt so they needed to be washed daily. As clean as we are because of bathing in the righteous of Christ and try as hard as we might, we’re bound to step in some mud puddles and become soiled by the world’s sins as we walk through life in our fallen world. If we want to walk in daily fellowship with our Lord, we must confess and repent of the sins that soil us and allow Jesus to wash (nipto) away the filth of our fallen world every day. Salvation (the bathing) is a one-time act but sanctification (the washing) is a lifelong process; it is what allows His forgiveness to change our lives.
While researching 1st century dining habits, I learned how guests traditionally were seated. Although da Vinci’s famous mural places Jesus in the middle of the group at a long rectangular table, the position of Jesus (as the host) would have been second from the left on the left side of a U-shaped table. Customarily, a trusted friend was seated to the host’s immediate right and the guest of honor to the host’s immediate left. The rest of the diners were seated to the left starting with the highest-ranking person and proceeding on down to the least important. If a servant were present during the meal, the last seat was his since it was closest to the door. With no servant, it was given to the youngest or lowest ranking guest.
My in-laws were great ones for giving theme parties. When they hosted a “Backwards Party,” guests entered through the back door, wore their clothes backwards (which my mother-in-law admitted made it difficult for the men), and ate dessert before dinner. At another get-together, attendees came dressed as children, received jump ropes and jacks, pulled taffy, and played games like “Mother May I?” and “Pin the Tail on the Donkey.” My introduction to their parties was in 1966 when they turned their house into a Prohibition era speakeasy and guests needed a password to enter. Women dressed as flappers while the men wore fedoras, vests, and spats. Another party had the theme, “Come as You Wish You Had Been.” My mother-in-law, dressed in shorts with a whistle around her neck, came as the PE teacher she once dreamed of becoming and my father-in-law dressed as the train conductor he once aspired to be. Other attendees dressed as ballerinas, weight lifters, princesses, cowboys, or baseball players.
While visiting my son last summer, I was walking in his neighborhood when a car raced out of a blind driveway and, without even slowing to look for cars or people, sped down the street. If I hadn’t paused briefly by the gate to get a flower photo, I would have had an intimate encounter with the vehicle. After thanking God that I hadn’t become road kill, I continued down the road and turned onto the walking path. I was a little disconcerted when a car approached and stopped but, when the driver lowered his window and called out to me, I realized it was the driver of the speeding car. After offering an earnest apology, he explained he’d been late for a meeting but added that his tardiness was no excuse for his recklessness. Ashamed of his behavior, he’d returned to make sure I was OK. Assuring him I was fine, I wished him well. I was both shocked and touched by the unexpected apology. While unnecessary, it was much appreciated since I knew the driver probably lost another ten minutes by turning around to find me and apologize.
When speaking to the Pharisees, Jesus delivers what could be called the ultimate good news/bad news scenario. The good news is that, no matter how evil, vicious or long-lasting the sin, any sin (even blasphemy) is forgivable. The good news, however, comes with a “but” when Jesus says blasphemy against the Spirit will never be forgiven.
I thought of that great fixed chasm between heaven and hell again after reading C.S. Lewis’ fantasy, The Great Divorce. Lewis clearly warns his readers that the book is a fantasy, what he calls “imaginative supposal,” and should be read that way. He does, however, add that it does have a moral. The book’s unnamed narrator (presumed to be Lewis) describes what seems to be hell as a grey, dingy, and utterly joyless place where quarrelsome souls continually argue with one another and move further and further apart. Finding himself there, the narrator joins others as they take a bus ride from this grey world to a vibrant, beautiful, and substantial place that appears to be heaven.