Head in hands, the disciples stared at their feet.
These feet had walked faithfully ever since the first call to “Follow me.” Certain this way of life would usher in a new day and change the world, they had gone “all in” only to be cruelly disappointed.
Just days ago they had been on top of the world. Now it was over.
Sitting. Staring on a silent Saturday.
Steve Cothran
Had it all been pointless? Had they been wrong about the whole thing?
The feet, surprisingly clean from a recent foot washing, reminded them that no, it had been far from pointless. They had been given new direction and had learned to see the world differently. To walk differently.
Before, leaders were only seen as strong and powerful. But these followers were taught the paradoxical strength of vulnerability and compassion.
They had witnessed the joy found in humility and service. And they had seen how power — religious and political — was threatened by this unselfish, topsy-turvy approach to the world where the least were lifted, the last brought to the front, the lost found.
But they never could’ve imagined those powers stirring up the people and encouraging them to choose a criminal like Barabbas.
“Other feet danced while theirs felt like lead.”
The disciples’ disappointment was deepened by their realization that while they despaired in defeat, others rejoiced in triumph. Other feet danced while theirs felt like lead.
Tears dripping on toes, the blurry vision reminded followers of the woman who had washed Jesus’ feet with her own tears. He blessed her, lifting her up, giving her new life and hope. And she walked away changed.
This summer, I was honored to have lifelong friends at my retirement celebration. One of them, Russ Dean, told of his family’s sabbatical journey walking 554.8 miles on Spain’s Camino de Santiago this summer. They walked 10 to 17 miles per day, treating sore feet each evening, knowing they would just have to wake up the next day and keep walking.
Before Russ spoke, he sang an original song during our children’s sermon. He told them about walking this arduous expedition with his wife, Amy, and repeating the question kids everywhere always ask on long car rides: “Are we there yet?”
Then he taught them to sing together:
Are we there yet?
Keep walking!
Are we there yet?
Don’t ask me again!
Are we there yet?
Keep walking, we’re closer than we ever have been!
It’s not about the destination,
It’s not about the finish line,
It’s not about sliding into home plate,
Just in the nick of time,
Faith is not about the ending,
It’s about the constant climb.
It’s walking, and walking, and walking, and walking, and walking, and walking, and walking!
After this grueling slog, are your feet as tired as mine? Maybe more so.
That’s OJK. Jesus never promised smooth sailing or pleasant pathways. But he meets the brokenhearted on these roads, and followers find new strength for the journey.
It’s a constant climb. So rest up because we’re not there yet.
Keep walking.
Steve Cothran is a native of Greenville, S.C., and holds degrees from Furman University, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Campbell Divinity School. He has served churches in Florida, North Carolina and Georgia, as well as six years in Kentucky where he and his wife, Nancy, were on the same staff together. He has written curriculum for Smyth & Helwys, CBF and d365, enjoys writing regular columns for the Newnan Times-Herald, and dreams of being the oldest cast member on Saturday Night Live.