From a fix to a foot wash

So who will have their feet washed?

The only one willing to surrender is spaced-out and high –
he’s already annihilated his ego. From a fix to a foot wash
He lands down in our chair.
Relaxed but stiff – he can’t take his shoes off.
Shoelaces in knots!
How to release these feet from these pointy white shoes?
Wet shoelaces are a real struggle – slowly tug by tug
much wrestling with the shoe – his foot is released
Next defence – Sodden skeleton socks!
The stench as high as he is …
The socks have disintegrated into just an ankle and a toe, with no sole.
Strip them off.

Roll up the wet, oversized, sagging tracksuit pants
Now to the washing – the standard is high,
If you know love and attention, give love and attention
Hands on street feet –
Rough, calloused street feet –
White bunion on black skin street feet –
Swollen ankles street feet –
Dark areas between the toes street feet –
Dirty, sandy, mucky street feet –
Looking up to check if he’s still with us?
From half-closing eyes he moves to a spaced-out smile
What was that – the distant realm of heart?

One foot done and wrapped in a towel!
Now to wage war on that other locked-in foot.
Is this how it was unbinding Lazarus?
At least Jesus had a friend to welcome back when the job was done.
Who is this spaced-out, floppy, stiff person with one black-gloved hand
and animal fur and bright cloth beady stuff on the other?
Now to put warm, clean-ish feet back into wet skeleton socks!
Wide feet, wet socks, into pointy white shoes, onto dead feet.
The cheap imitation leather folds at the heel.
You have to help me here – push!

The Father calls to the slaves –
bring a pumice stone and healing foot balm
bring new dry shoelaces
bring the best seamless socks
For tonight my son is lost in a fix and he’s come to have his feet washed.

These foot-washing reflections are by Janet Muller