Dawn Just Won’t Do
In April 2020, I went to work, and the parking lot was practically empty. I missed the previous day and didn’t realize we were instructed to work from home because of COVID-19: two weeks to stop the spread and all that. Later that day, I went to the restroom and washed my hands. As I stood drying, someone spoke up from the stall and said, “That was effective hand-washing — 30 seconds.” What do you say to that? I hadn’t been complimented for washing my hands well since I was about two years old. It was surreal; while sitting in a bathroom stall, a grown man counted how many seconds I spent washing my hands, then felt compelled to comment on what he felt was a job well done.
For germaphobes, those years were the best of times and the worst of times. We know why it was the worst of times. But it was the best of times because there was a newfound respect and public conversation about the duty and benefit of cleanliness. I was OK with making hand-washing great again. In the days of Jesus, hand-washing was also part of the public discourse and a source of controversy. The Pharisees and Scribes had a tradition of washing up before meals. It was terrible to eat without washing your hands, and I mean scrubbing them down. I doubt they sang the alphabet song or Happy Birthday like the CDC recommends, but they did say that you had to wash from finger-tip clean up to the elbow. Your attitude about it mattered, too. John Gill, quoting from the Jewish writings, said, “he that despiseth washing of hands, shall be rooted out of the world; for in it is the secret of the Decalogue.’ So you better wash your hands, and you better like it!
It wasn’t in the Old Testament, but tradition. Some traditions are good and even necessary (1 Corinthians 11:2; 2 Thessalonians 3:6). But some are downright wrong. Their value depends on who is handing the tradition down and for what purpose. Somewhere in the history of Israel, someone said that washing your hands was good. Then, washing up to the elbow was better. It got to the point where it was a requirement, and then, if you didn’t do it, you were sinning. The tradition became law and had equal weight and authority with the Scripture in their view. Jesus said they were hypocrites, teaching their tradition as doctrine and laying aside God’s law. To prevent defilement, they washed their hands. But you are not defiled before God by what you eat. We are dirty on the inside. Our hearts are wicked, and it’s not what goes in that makes us unclean, but that which is already in our hearts has defiled us—our wicked hearts, where soap and water just can’t reach. They redefined sin to be something they could handle. But our stains go deep, where nothing but the blood of Jesus can wash us clean.