The Fellowship of Feet

Before the traitor had taken off,
Jesus humbled Himself
before twelve pair of familiar feet.

Feet that had run with delight in His direction
when He had first nodded in theirs.

Feet that had walked with Him
for the better part of three years
on 'a long obedience in the same direction.'

Feet that had remained on a narrow path
far removed from a broader (more popular) road.

Feet that had stumbled on stones
thrown by critics who questioned
their determined allegiance to a carpenter-turned-rabbi.

Feet calloused by the number of times
they had squashed their doubts and trudged on in faith.

Feet that (ironically) still longed
to climb the rungs of self-importance
in hopes of landing on a pedestal of glory.

Feet smudged by the mud of daily compromise,
smelling of imperfect devotion.

Feet that would soon flee in fear
when the feet (and hands)
of their Righteous Friend
were nailed to a Roman cross.

Beautiful feet that (with the exception of one pair)
would in time climb the mountains of the earth,
finding their ultimate worth,
declaring the incredible good news that our God reigns!

It was these feet the Savior cradled with compassion
as He rinsed and toweled them dry.

It was this amazing act of undeserved humility
and unforgettable grace
that Jesus commanded His friends to emulate.

And to that end we lace up our shoes
and follow in His footsteps
in the shadow of His cross.