Washing Feet and the Order of the Kingdom (John 13:1-17)
Table Order
Meals in the first century were not casual. They were ceremonies that reinforced the social order. Where you sat at the table showed who you were in society. The host sat at the top, the guest of honor next to him, then close friends, then the rest in descending rank. The servants didn’t even eat in the same room. Some Roman writers even describe meals where guests were given different food and wine depending on their status. It was a constant reminder that some mattered more than others.
This way of thinking shaped everyone, including the disciples. Luke 22 tells us that —on their way to the last supper, a dispute broke out among them over who was the greatest. This wasn’t a one-time issue. All four gospels show us the disciples jockeying for position, worrying about status, and arguing about importance. They had been discipled by Rome and the empires of this world to see people on a ladder of worth.
Jesus Breaks the Order of Things
Into this setting, Jesus interrupts the meal. John 13 tells us he took off his outer garment, tied a towel around his waist, and started washing the disciples’ feet. Washing feet was disgusting work. It meant removing dust, dirt, and even animal waste that collected as people walked through city streets. The disciples had all arrived with dirty feet, fully expecting someone else to do the job. But none of them wanted to take the servant’s place.
Jesus, instead of giving them a lecture and an argument, gave them perspective. He shows them a new order. He does the thing no one wanted to do —He washes their feet. When Peter objects, Jesus tells him, “You don’t realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
This is Jesus redefining greatness. In the kingdoms of this world, power means being served. In the kingdom of God, power looks like serving. The greatest is the one who lowers himself, who makes himself small, who lifts up the unseen.
Notice also that Jesus does not only wash the feet of the loyal disciples. He washes Judas’ feet too. The one who would betray him is given the same love and dignity. It does not change Judas’ mind, but that was never the point. Christ’s love is not selective, the kingdom does not mimic the empire’s system of rewards.
Curated Reality
Part of foot washing is naming what others would rather hide. The dirt, the mess, the lowly, the shameful. In the Roman world, meals were curated reality. The filth was whisked away by servants out of sight. Jesus instead highlights it. He becomes the servant and puts himself shoulder to shoulder with the lowest in the room.
And then he tells the disciples, “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet.” In other words, if you want to belong to him, you don’t climb up the ladder. You step down. You see the unseen. You serve in ways that may seem small, but in the kingdom of God they are the very center of what it means to follow Jesus.
We often ask, “What should we do?” when evil is pressing in around us. We wonder if we should shout louder, post more, wear the right slogans, or fight for position. But Jesus gives a different answer. Wash feet. Do the unseen act of service that tells someone they are noticed. Meet them on their level. Let them know they are seen. This is how the kingdom disrupts the empire. This is how peace begins.
Discussion Questions
The disciples were shaped by Roman ideas of status, honor, and power. In what ways do you see our own culture discipling us to think the same way? How hard is it to recognize when we’ve “defaulted to culture”?
2. Jesus doesn’t dismantle the disciples’ mindset with arguments—he shows them a new way through action. What does this suggest about the limits of teaching versus embodied practice in Christian discipleship?
3. Jesus washed Judas’ feet even though he knew Judas would betray him. What does this tell us about how love functions in the kingdom of God? How should that shape how we respond to people we see as opponents or threats?
4. Meals in the ancient world curated a version of reality where status was reinforced and filth was hidden. Where do we see “curated realities” in our own world, both in public life and in the church? What dangers come from hiding the mess instead of naming it?
5. Jesus ties blessing not to knowing these things but to doing them (John 13:17). What does it look like to “live your way into better thinking” rather than just trying to “think your way into better living”?