He picked up the pace. He heard it was happening. The man that had only hours ago sat at his table was on trial for treason.

Treason? Really?! That’s not possible. How can a man like that be treasonous? Thought Eli between deep strained breaths.

———

It was Passover and Eli had just finished cleaning his house after the feast. It had been a peculiar day. First some strange men approached him and told him that their master was going to have the Passover supper at his house. They said his name was Jesus.

Eli had heard of this man, but it was all mixed reports. Some were saying he was the Messiah. Some were saying he was a drunk and a troublemaker. Some were saying he was a really good teacher. Others even suggested that he was Elijah. But Eli had no family. He had no one to celebrate the Passover with, so why not let his man and his followers come and set up shop in his house for a day?

As people arrived Eli decide to leave and get some water. The feast was being prepared and it was chaos; Eli didn’t want to be around the hustle and bustle of the meal prep. More so, he did have the stomach to watch an innocent, perfect little lamb get slaughtered. The men were piling in as Eli made his way out the door. Caught up in the chaos he didn’t see where he was going, Eli tripped over his own feet and fell into the last of the men.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir. Things are a little crazy around here right now.” Eli struggled to say. “No worries.” Said the man. “Are you leaving the party?”

“Yes” said Eli thinking it was quite obvious that he was leaving, “Just going to get some water. I’m running low.”

“Good plan” said the man. “Hurry back. I’ve been looking forward to having dinner with you for some time now.”

Eli smiled, nodded and walked away. That was unusual. He thought. He spoke like he knew me. Eli walked on pondering his interaction with this man. Somehow this stranger had made him feel welcomed in his own home.

Who was he? Maybe that was Jesus? But he didn’t seem like a drunkard. He didn’t seem like a prophet. He didn’t seem like anything special. But then again he spoke like he knew me, like he had known me all along. He seemed disappointed that I was leaving as if I was someone special to him. But I don’t know him.

Eli filled his jar with water and made his way back to his house. He realized half way to getting water that he hadn’t offered to wash anyone’s feet. How stupid can you be, Eli! Way to make a good first impression! He hurried back hoping that he could still offer them the basic courtesy of allowing them to wash their feet after their journey.

As Eli walked through his door the atmosphere seemed different. The chaos of meal prep had faded and the meal had begun for he could no longer hear the bleating of the lamb. All seemed calm. There was no chatter over the dinner, stories being told, or hymns being sung. He entered his house and saw everyone gathered together.

What is happening? He thought to himself. Maybe Jesus finally arrived and is teaching. Maybe he is healing someone. Eli softly nudged his way to the front of the group holding the jug of water in his hand. He looked down and saw the man that he had fell into earlier sitting on the floor with a basin of water to which Eli thought where did that water come from? I was sure I was out of water. With this water the man was washing the feet of one of the dozen men at his house.

Eli was immediately embarrassed. Good job, Eli. Your guests are washing each others feet! Again making a great first impression. Good job at being a good host. Eli scolded himself.

The man moved to another one of the followers of Jesus and Eli figured this would be a good time to interject and take over, to play his role as a good host. But as he leaned forward to say something, the one whose feet were about to be washed spoke up.

“Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Said the man Eli would later find out was named Simon Peter

“Lord?” Is this…is the man on the floor Jesus? Thought Eli. Is this the man who is causing so much of a stir around the city? Is this the drunkard who could possibly be the Messiah?

The man on the floor answered, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”

“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.”

The man answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!”

The man finished washing Peters feet and walked back to his place at the table. Everyone, including Eli, followed. As they sat the man began to talk again.

“Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.

Yes. This is Jesus. This must be him. I have heard how he teaches. But why was HE, the Rabbi, the maybe Messiah, the leader of this people washing THEIR feet? Thought Eli.

Jesus continued “Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him.”

The meal continued on as usual. There was an exchange of bread and wine at one point there was an uproar that Eli really didn’t understand and someone yelled “SURELY IT WON’T BE ME, LORD!”

Eli, still deep in thought about why Jesus would wash the feet of his followers, stood up from the table and left the friends to have their meal. Was this really Jesus? The one cleaning feet? If he really was the Messiah, if he really was this amazing teacher, wouldn’t it be so that his followers would wash his feet?

Eli began to clean up the mess of preparation when Jesus walked into the kitchen. “Thank you again for opening your home to me and my friends.” Jesus said

“You’re welcome” Eli instinctively responded. He had so many questions running through his head but somehow all he could manage to say was “I only wish I would have brought the water back soon enough that my guests didn’t have to get water themselves to wash their feet.”

Jesus laid his hand on Eli’s should her and with a slight smile he responded, “No need to be sorry. We made due. You chose to open your house to the Son of Man, and for that you will be blessed.” With this Jesus returned to the table.

Jesus and his friends were leaving as Eli walked out of the kitchen. Eli overheard something about going to Gethsemane. As Jesus walked out the door he turned back and glanced quickly at Eli, smiled and nodded. But Eli could see as he turned his face forward his smile faded and his shoulders slumped just slightly. Not so much that anyone else would notice.

The door shut and the house was still. Dishes and cups scattered. Eli took a deep breath and began putting things away.

Another year’s Passover come and gone. Eli thought. Everything will go back to normal now. No more surprises. But not everything was normal. Something had taken seed in Eli.

———

Eli asked everyone he passed by which way the one they called Jesus went. Each person pointed toward the temple, the high priest’s house. Eli kept running. He approached the temple and it seemed like he had just stumbled on the aftermath of a windstorm. Everything appeared to be calm but there was turmoil and chaos in the air as if a whirlwind had just barreled its way through the temple.

Did I miss it? What did they do with Jesus? Where have they taken him?

Eli looked around hoping to find someone to tell him what had happened. He walked around the courts but people had moved on. The coals of the fire in the courtyard were smoldering. Someone must still be near.

All was quiet except the sound of someone crying. Eli could hear the weeping from down the street. Distracted from his search by these tears, Eli made his way toward the sound. He made his way down the street, drawn to this crying. He rounded the corner and found a man huddled up against the wall.

As Eli approached he began to recognize the man. The man must have heard his steps because he lifted his head. Eli was right, this was the one that Jesus called Simon Peter. This was the one whose feet Jesus washed. This was the one who had shouted “SURELY IT WON’T BE ME, LORD.”

Eli could see recognition flood Simon Peter’s eyes. “Excuse me.” Eli sheepishly said.

“Listen” Peter started “I recognize you. Thank you for lettings us have Passover at your house, but now…now is not a good time, would you please lea…”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Eli interrupted. “I can see that you are troubled and I don’t mean to be rude, but I just have one question.”

Peter put his head in his hands, Eli heard him mutter some things but could only make out the scattered words, “Heaven…hollowed … your name … kingdom …. Be done …. bread …. Forgive us … deliver us … amen” Peter let took a deep breath, and slowly let it out as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“What is your question” Peter began

Grateful for Peter’s compassion Eli almost forgot his question. He paused a minute and he could see Peter begin to doubt his decision to listen. Thoughts came flooding back to Eli and he spoke,

“Can you tell me more about Jesus?”