Taking a towel, he wrapped it around his waist. Then he poured water into a bowl and began to wash the followers’ feet, drying them with the towel...
Jesus fell to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, do not give me this cup of suffering. But do what you want, not what I want.”
Carrying his own cross, Jesus went out to a place called The Place of the Skull, which in the Hebrew language is called Golgotha.  There they crucified Jesus.
They, soiled of foot, and arrogant, The Master sees their two-fold want - The shrine of love....the servant’s place, A kneeling ministry of grace. That act moves and inspires me To serve with like humility. Lord of the cross, the blood, the bowl, Love’s nature breed within my soul.
A gloomy garden, dark mystique - From furrowed brow down tear-stained cheek - The shade of love....a crimson stain, The hue of suffering and pain - The dampened rock – a battle ground; The wrenching cry – a strangled sound; Not my will Lord, but thine be done – And thus his passion is begun.
On a stark hill, notorious Abhorred once, but now glorious - The shape of love....a rugged rood, A monstrous symmetry of wood - The Cross - imposed by human sin And God’s resultant suffering. It is a cross I’m called to bear, Your broken heart of Love to share.