The movie The Man in the Iron Mask is a favorite of mine. I find myself watching it annually. The 1998 adventure film is loosely based on the novel The Vicomte de Bragelonne by Alexandre Dumas. You might recall a couple other works of Dumas – The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo.
The movie is set in 17th-century France and revolves around the aging Musketeers – Athos, Porthos, and Aramis – during the reign of the cruel and self-indulgent ruler, King Louis XIV (portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio). The plot centers on a secret twin brother of Louis XIV, Philippe, who is kept hidden in an iron mask to conceal his identity.
The Musketeers become aware of the King’s tyranny and decide to overthrow him. They uncover the existence of Philippe, the rightful heir to the throne, and plan to replace the draconian king with his benevolent twin. The Musketeers execute their plan to dethrone King Louis XIV and restore Philippe to his rightful position. Themes of loyalty, justice, and the abuse of power take center stage as the story unfolds with political suspense and the exploration of sacrifice and redemption.
A specific scene from the movie comes to my mind often: after Philippe had been restored to the throne, a royal ball was initiated in the king’s honor, something consistent with King Louis XIV’s demeanor. Unbeknownst to all except the Musketeers, it was Philippe, not King Louis XIV, sitting on the throne as the master of the ball. At one point a young woman stumbled and fell onto the bottom of the royal steps leading to the throne. The empathetic and kind-hearted Philippe left his throne to assist the young woman.
Kings don’t leave their thrones to assist others!
Pillipe’s action did not go unnoticed, by the Musketeers nor Louis XIV’s loyalists. So the plot quickly thickened. (No spoiler alert here – you’ll have to watch for yourself to see how things played out but you can assume a fair amount of swashbuckling.)
Kings don’t leave their thrones to serve their subjects. The recent post, Pocket Gophers – a Parable, certainly comes to mind, but it’s not what made me think of The Man in the Iron Mask. Rather a recent read of John 13, Jesus’ washing his disciples’ feet, is what triggered the memory of Philippe’s inadvertent gaffe.
It was the night before the Festival of Passover. Jesus and his followers were gathered together in the “upper room” to celebrate the Passover meal. From John 13…
Jesus knew that his time had come, the time for him to leave this world and go to the Father. He had always loved his own people in the world; now he loved them right through to the end. It was suppertime. The devil had already put the idea of betraying him into the heart of Judas, son of Simon Iscariot. Jesus knew that the Father had given everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God. So he got up from the supper-table, took off his clothes, and wrapped a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a bowl and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel he was wrapped in. (John 13:1-5, KNT)
We love this story because Jesus of Nazareth washed his followers’ feet, taking on the role typical of a servant. We love this (and we should) because our Lord and Savior got up from the supper table and washed his followers’ feet. What a model of humility and servanthood for them and us. But Jesus wasn’t their Lord and Savior yet. He was “just” a rabbi that they were following and suspecting could be the Messiah. What Jesus did that night surpassed mere modeling. I suspect what Jesus did shook them to the core. Rabbis didn’t wash their disciples’ feet. They had and could afford servants to do that. If Rabbis didn’t wash their followers’ feet, certainly Messiah’s didn’t. Peter didn’t seem to understand Jesus’ actions. I suspect he wasn’t the only one.
Think about the significance of Jesus’ actions that surpassed mere modeling of servanthood. Jesus knew that the Father had given everything into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God. So he got up from the supper-table… and began to wash the disciples’ feet.
I don’t know when Jesus fully understood his vocation, but it’s clear that here he knew full well who he was as God incarnate. Not only was he the Messiah, but King of the Universe. And knowing full well who he was, he washed his followers’ feet.
Contemplate the practicality involved in the act of washing someone’s feet. To do so requires taking a knee. Think about that. Subjects approach Kings on bended knee, not the other way around. This King, our king, not only stepped off the throne but proceeded to take a knee in the presence of his subjects. To wash their feet. To serve and honor them!
Who does that?
Practical Theology Today 