The Servant King: John 13:1-17

It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.

The hour had come. The countdown Jesus had referenced throughout John's Gospel now reached zero. Time to leave this world. Time to show the full extent of his love.

The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus.

Betrayal was brewing. Judas had already agreed to hand Jesus over. The traitor sat at the table with the twelve.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God.

Full awareness. Jesus knew his origin, his authority, his destiny. From God, returning to God, all power given. What would he do with such knowledge?

So he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He stood up. He stripped to the undergarment. He wrapped himself like a servant. The Lord of glory dressed for the lowest task.

After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

Water. Basin. Dirty feet. One by one, the Master knelt before his disciples and washed the dust from their feet.

This was slave's work. The lowest household servant did this—not the master, certainly not the Messiah. Yet here was Jesus, basin in hand, towel around waist, kneeling.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, Lord, are you going to wash my feet?

Peter's question carried shock. Lord—you? My feet? The categories were colliding.

Jesus replied, You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.

Understanding would come later. For now, Jesus asked for trust.

No, said Peter, you shall never wash my feet.

Peter refused. His sense of propriety, his reverence for Jesus, his embarrassment—all combined in refusal. Never.

Jesus answered, Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.

The stakes rose dramatically. This washing symbolized something deeper. Without it, no partnership, no belonging.

Then, Lord, Simon Peter replied, not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!

Peter swung to the opposite extreme. If washing means belonging, wash all of me!

Jesus answered, Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.

Already bathed—just feet dirty from the journey. Clean, except for one. Jesus knew who would betray him.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place.

The task complete, Jesus dressed again and took his seat. Now for the explanation.

Do you understand what I have done for you? he asked them.

The question invited reflection. What just happened?

You call me Teacher and Lord, and rightly so, for that is what I am.

Teacher. Lord. Titles of authority, rightfully claimed.

Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet.

The command was clear. If the Lord washed feet, so should followers. No one outranks Jesus. No task is beneath those who follow him.

I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.

Example. Model. Pattern. Jesus didn't just teach servanthood—he demonstrated it. Basin and towel preceded cross and crown.

Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.

Logic of servanthood. If the master serves, servants certainly must. No follower gets a pass.

Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them.

Blessing follows obedience. Knowing is not enough—doing brings the blessing.

On his final night, with full knowledge of his divine identity and destiny, Jesus knelt with a basin and towel. The one who would soon be crucified first demonstrated what sacrifice looks like in ordinary moments.

The foot washing was preview of the cross. Both were the Master making himself servant, the Lord becoming least, the Highest kneeling lowest.