It was the final evening before the Cross.
The room was ready, the Passover meal had been prepared, and Jesus—fully aware of what was to come—chose to spend His last free hours not in isolation or defense… but in service. Humble, shocking, intimate service.
“Jesus… having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end.” (John 13:1)
Let that settle. He loved them—fully, knowingly, unwaveringly.
And then He rose from supper, laid aside His garments, girded Himself with a towel, and poured water into a basin.
He got down on His knees. And the King of Glory washed their feet.
But this moment wasn’t just about humble leadership. It wasn’t about hygiene. It wasn’t even just a symbol.It was a revelation. And the contrast between how He treated Judas and Peter shows us just how deep that love runs.
He Washed Judas.
Yes, that Judas.
Judas had already made the deal. Thirty silver coins. The price of a slave. The plan was in motion. And Jesus knew it all—
“…Jesus knew who would betray Him…” (John 13:11).
And yet He knelt before him anyway.
No skipped turn. No avoided eye contact. No exposed accusation.
Jesus washed the feet of His betrayer.Imagine that. Imagine the hands that had healed the blind gently wiping the dust from the feet of the man who would hand Him over to death. It was mercy poured out without condition. It was one final invitation. A moment of holy confrontation.
But Judas didn’t break. He didn’t confess. He didn’t weep.He got up from the table and walked away with clean feet—and a defiled heart.
He chose darkness, even as the Light knelt before him.
How many times do we do the same? How often does Jesus offer us mercy—again—and we harden our hearts, justify our choices, and walk right out into the night?
And…….He Washed Peter.
Oh, Peter. Impulsive, passionate, and stubborn.
When Jesus came to him with the basin, Peter resisted.“Lord, are You washing my feet?”
… “You shall never wash my feet!” (John 13:6, 8)
That sounds noble. Like reverence. But it was pride cloaked in piety. Peter was trying to control the narrative—to protect Jesus, to preserve the hierarchy. But Jesus wasn’t having it.“
*If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.” (v. 8)
That stopped Peter in his tracks. And true to form, he flipped to the opposite extreme:
“Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head!” (v. 9)
Peter didn’t fully understand yet, but he surrendered. And Jesus met him right there—in confusion, in boldness, in brokenness. Jesus knew Peter would deny Him in just a few hours, not once, not even twice, but three times. Yet Jesus didn’t withhold His hands. He didn’t shame him or scold him.
He washed him.He loved him.He prepared him—for failure… and for restoration.
Where Judas hardened, Peter would eventually weep bitterly and return. That’s the difference. Not perfection, but repentance.
So What Does This Mean for Us?
It means Jesus still kneels today. He still offers cleansing. He still serves with nail-scarred hands—those who betray, those who deny, and those who simply misunderstand.
It means no part of us is too dirty for Jesus to wash. But He will not force His grace on anyone. Judas shows us what it looks like to refuse. Peter shows us what it looks like to wrestle with pride… and then surrender.It means love kneels before us and asks: Will you let Me wash you? Will you let Me serve you? Will you follow Me… all the way to the cross?We love the idea of a God who reigns. But Maundy Thursday confronts us with a God who kneels. A Savior who scrubs the very feet that will carry betrayal and denial. A Messiah who looks us in the eye, knowing every failure, and says: “I still want you.”
