THE BLESSING APRON

 After my husband's death, a friend asked for one of his dress shirts for a special project. He had many nice shirts that he wore to church or formal occasions, or to substitute teach. In the public school classroom, his shirt-and-tie attire wordlessly communicated higher expectations for the students. (And yes, after decades of dealing with classroom behavior, he was a pro about class control.)

My friend's project? Transforming a nice collared shirt into a memory apron for me. The day she delivered it, I cried as I pulled it on. For the sweet memories of my late husband associated with that garment. And for her loving work in giving it a new role.

I hope I'm not stretching this love-gift too much by associating it with another apron involved in a love-gift. Instead of what we consider an “apron,” it was a First Century towel that Jesus tied around Himself to lovingly wash His disciples' feet before their last supper together before His crucifixion. Though this meal was described in all the Gospels, only John included the foot-washing detail.

Having visited a Third-World country, I “get it” about dirty feet. In Bible times, the street dirt contained human and animal waste, soiling their feet and primitive sandals. Hygiene and “good manners” mandated removing one's sandals near the door and washing feet.

Somehow, that nicety wasn't observed when the disciples secured someone's large second-story room for their observance of the Passover meal. Maybe they thought a servant would show up and do it. They never imagined Jesus doing such a dirty job. None of them “stepped to the plate” (to borrow a baseball saying for this dining room) for this humble duty. Instead, they focused on their plates of food as they lay on their sides at the low table, one pair of filthy feet after another fanning out behind them.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. (John 13:3-5)

My old aprons bear the stains of many meals I prepared for my family or delivered to share with those in grief or need. Others blessed me that way, like the year I royally broke my ankle and was recliner-bound for weeks. A dear older friend symbolically “washed my feet” by bringing delicious meals while I was laid up. Years later my husband and I still talked about that, especially her famed roast beef sandwiches with dipping broth.

That amazing, generous cook was my apron-friend's late mother. Mom to daughter, daughter to me....what a legacy of grace and giving. What a practical reminder of Jesus: “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).