Spillage

Why is it that when someone says, "Don't spill that all over the white cloth," you feel an inordinate obligation to spill that all  over the white cloth? "That" on this occasion was a mug of tomato soup. The cloth was a pristine white linen tablecloth, freshly laundered by a professional cleaning company at considerable cost. I was nowhere near it when I spilled it. I was simply moving the cloth down a few inches to cover another table which had been added to accommodate a couple more people. Theoretically the tables are all the same size and height. Realistically, they aren't. The mug hit the undercover raised table edge with enough force to tip almost the entire contents onto the white cloth in a large sunset like pattern with sunshine rays running down the overhanging linen. My face was pretty much the same colour as the spillage. 
As I watched the red stain seep into the fabric it actually reminded me of Easter. The red stain on the white cloth that day was no accident, it was the culmination of centuries of planning. The cloth wasn't used for long, barely three days. Jesus folded it carefully and left it in the empty tomb when he rose from the dead. Because of what Jesus accomplished over those three days, my embarrassment over my many mistakes and my guilt over my many misdemeanors have been obliterated. The Bible tells me that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanses from all sin. In the book of Revelation John writes about people who are wearing freshly washed white robes and being sheltered by the presence of God. My shame is taken away through Christ's death and resurrection. Jesus used wine to remind his friends he would give his life for them, I used tomato soup. I don't think Jesus minds what you use to remind you of his love for you this Easter. He just wants you to know you can be utterly forgiven and totally clean.