Washed

It is not the dirt on the outside that causes me to think, it comes off easy enough.

Shower daily (twice when I run)
     Hair shampooed (until hair 'squeaks')
         Teeth cleaned (morning and evening)

                  Clothes - frequently (necessary)

                  Car - less so (pointless)
                   House - enough (boring)

It seems there is a pattern to dirt removal, a systematic regular removal of external detritus.
 
      Mud (Cranbrook)
          Grease (un-squeaky)
               Dust (dead skin)
                   Grime (to cover a multitude)
                          Belly button fluff (blue)

An array of cleaning materials: scrub, rub, scour and cleanse... cleanse? Outside at least. Enough?

Jesus called the Pharisees 'whitewashed sepulchres' - gleaming outside but rancid and rotten within.

On the night they call the 'Last Supper' he knelt and washed the feet of those who would soon betray him, he washed their feet.

The blackness inside, the guilt, the sin that had sullied from within, was as lacking in permanence as the dust on their feet.

This was a new teaching,
     a new way,
             a new covenant,
                    the death that was within could be brought to life.

The whitewashed sepulchres had life within!

Because?

They were...
                        washed.



John 13:1-17, 31b-35