He Who Would Be Chief Among You

by Carol Lynn Pearson

And He rose from supper,

Poured water in a basin,

And washed the disciples’ feet.

Those hands, hardened by the heat

Of a desert sun, comfortable with cutting trees

And turning them to tables in Joseph’s shop—

Those hands that with a wave could stop

The troubled sea, could touch a leper clean,

Or triumphantly turn death away

From the loved daughter on Jairus’ couch—

Those hands that could gesture

The heavens open—

Poured water in a basin,

And washed the disciples’ feet.

The lesson lay unlearned,

But to a few—

Who trust the paradox

And hear the call:

He who would be chief among you,

Let him be the servant of all.