One of the most beautiful paradoxes in Scripture is this: it is through the shedding of Jesus’ blood that we are made clean.
In the Old Testament, blood—especially human blood like menstrual discharge or open wounds—rendered a person ritually unclean. Contact with blood often meant separation, exclusion, and elaborate purification rituals.
But Jesus reverses this. His blood is not defiling. His blood is purifying.
Even apart from those ancient purity laws, we all know what bloodstains are like: how stubborn, how deep, how impossible they can be to remove. That visceral image helps us feel the weight of sin and the miracle of Christ’s cleansing power.
Everything Jesus touches is healed, restored, and made whole. Throughout his earthly ministry, he demonstrated this truth in concrete ways. When he touched the leper, he wasn’t made unclean—the leper was made clean. When the woman with the flow of blood reached out to him, he didn’t recoil in defilement—she was healed instantly. Jesus doesn’t contract impurity; he conquers it.
On the cross, Jesus shed his blood not in defeat but in victory. It is only through that blood—freely poured out for us—that we are washed, cleansed, and justified. As Hebrews declares, “without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Heb. 9:22).
Pontius Pilate tried in vain to wash his hands clean of Jesus’ blood. But the irony is rich: only those who are washed in Jesus’ blood are truly clean. Not just outwardly, but “every whit” (John 13:10)—entirely, thoroughly, eternally.
As the old hymn says:
“Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.”
This is such a beautiful promise. Our sins, though as scarlet, are made white as snow. The bloody stains of our rebellion are not hidden, ignored, or worked off—they are cleansed. Not by our striving, but by grace. Not by our righteousness, but by his blood.
This is the heart of the gospel: the most shameful symbol of human cruelty—the cross—becomes the fountain of divine mercy. The blood that once signified death now gives life.