When Dirty Feet Become Beautiful

One of the things I love about our family at St. John is the multiplicity of gifting and talents. None of us is alike and that adds to the colorful tapestry of SJM. In 1 Corinthians 12:19, the Apostle says, “(ESV) 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.” So, it is presumptive to think that everyone should do the same things, or at least do them to the same ability.  Not everyone has the first of giving, but everyone should give. Not everyone has the gift of hospitality, but we should all be hospitable. Not everyone has the gift of evangelism, but we should share our story with someone. That’s what it means to have beautiful feet.

Beautiful feet isn’t about having the right words, the most interesting story, or exciting conversion experience. It’s being ready in season and out of season to give a reason for the hope within you. Can you express that hope? Do you have that hope? During life’s struggles and hardships do you hold on to the hope of Christ in you? It’s not about having everything together or knowing everything. It’s about the inexplicable confidence of knowing that you have eternal life, and that the truth of the gospel is transformative.

I was recently told that I have a certainty about what I believe. The person didn’t mean it as a compliment. They saw it as narrow minded and exclusive. They see my life as “perfect”, but that I hide underneath a façade of religiosity, instead of being “real”.  Yet, when I shared with them a struggle, they didn’t want to hear about it. On the one hand they reveled in the stability that my faith brings, but on the other hand wanted to feel the comfort of fellow humans who struggle in pain, pain like theirs. In a real sense, as believers, we can’t win. As followers of Jesus we are to exude unrelenting love and moral consistency, and at the same time to be open and honest about our struggles and accepting of all things. It’s enough to drive you to the hills and live as a monk, or at least to my man cave.

Beautiful feet are dirty and bruised, battered and scuffed. Their beauty isn’t outward, rather the rugged attraction of the cross, dying daily to self in order to carry good news to people who don’t want it, reject it, despise it, but desperately need it. Our freedom is that the responsibility to open hearts and minds belongs to God, we are to be available to explain the good news of Jesus when the opportunity arises. That means we need to be available, faithful, and willing.

I’m trying to have beautiful feet, but the world keeps wanting to step on my feet. Lord give us strength. I’m just saying.