I wash your feet,
Not because I must but because I want to.
Whether your feet are covered in corns, callouses,
Grime or animal dung,
Or step pristinely out of a shower,
I’d still choose to do it anyway,
So there we go, warm soapy water and a simple sponge,
Sliding around your ankles, smearing between toes,
Tickling the soles of each foot,
Taking away the hard bitterness of a life lived
On the land and in the street.
Feet washing is an act of humble service.
In genuine humility we place someone else
Before ourselves, above ourselves!
They are important, worthy of respect and dignity,
No matter who they are,
No matter what they have done
Or where they have come from.
In the humble words of he who washed me,
Whoever wishes to be first must be last,
And whoever wishes to be first must be servant to all.
It really is simply, as hard as that!
Poem: Stephen Davies
Stephen has been a primary teacher for 32 years, more recently combining relief teaching with tennis coaching. He and his wife live in Christchurch and are members of South West Baptist Church. He has written some 15 volumes of poetry, both sacred and secular. This poem is taken from a collection by Stephen called A Rabbi Walked This Way © 2017, and is used with permission.
