Serving the High Plains
In the second verse of King David’s prayer of repentance, Psalm 51, the sinner cries out, “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin!”
We miss the original force of this wording because our English doesn’t do a great job of conveying the feeling that is present in David’s Hebrew. As every decent writer (and editor) will tell you, our exclamation point is pretty weak in this regard. David’s actual words convey the idea of “multiplication,” as in, “again and again, as much as it takes”.
Wash me thoroughly. Don’t stop until the job is completely finished. I’m asking for whatever is needed.
The prince of preachers, C. H. Spurgeon, suggests the problem was something more than a surface smearing of mud. David was conscious of a deeply set stain that was likely to require a great deal of scrubbing.
In fact, he knew the issue was in a place that he himself was not going to be able to reach with soap and water. It’s “wash me,” and not, “I will wash myself.” He didn’t bother calling for the best tanner in the kingdom or an expert in textiles. He cried out to the Lord for the washing.
I am reminded of a short story by Edgar Allen Poe, in which a murderer is haunted relentlessly by the ticking of his victim’s pocket-watch, which resounded like thunder to him, and to no one else.
What a great gift of God it is, when we come to that terrible place of realizing how bad our spiritual diagnosis really is. In the moment, it’s horrifying, as it was for David. But, if it drives us to cast ourselves at God’s feet, we’ll be thankful for it soon enough.
Jesus criticized the religious leaders of his day, the “church folk,” for their refusal to come to this same place. He said they were like people who do the dishes by only washing the outside of the cup or bowl, while leaving the filth to remain and harden on the inside. They were masters at going through the religious motions that required no inward change.
There are a lot of things we should hate about our own sin. There’s the damage it does to everyone around us and ourselves. There’s the ache of guilt and shame that is present in every sinner with a functioning conscience. Finally, there’s the threat of coming judgment.
All that being true, I think what David hated the most was the simple fact of its existence. Bad enough were the things he had done, but more disgusting was the person he was — stained at a level no one could possibly reach.
David lived centuries before Christ, of course, but, being a prophet, God pulled back the curtain for him, a little bit. He saw just enough to long for the one who would come with the power to cleanse poor sinners at the level of their basic pollution.
Jesus Christ, risen from the dead, still can cleanse us, if only we will cry out to him, like David, like the old hymn writer who said, “Foul, I to the fountain fly. Wash me, Savior, or I die!”
Gordan Runyan is the pastor of Immanuel Baptist Church in Tucumcari. Contact him at: