Disaster struck me one day when I was a boy. I don’t know where in the world my little sister came back to the house real dirty and smelly. Some type of dark sticky slimy stinky substance was all over her and she was crying up loud. She had tried to get rid of it by using her dirty hand and as you can imagine, this just aggravated the whole situation. She looked like a hideous monster, sort of. She accidentally feels down into the cow manure pit. It was a whole in the ground in the back garden, where my father put everything that our cow metabolism produced… to become organic fertilizer. And my sister… after a rainy night…
There she was crying and crying.... It became my task (privilege?) to clean up that pup. It was an exceedingly unpleasant task. And I can tell you of several more unpleasant tasks I’ve had in my life of cleaning up things. I even had to change a diaper one time. Only once. That was the day of the cloth diaper.
One day Jesus had a very unpleasant task to do. And, Jesus was sick. He was heart-sick. He knew that in twenty-four hours He would be dead. And, His spirit was heavy. Thirteen men trudged up a dark stairway to an upstairs room. Supper was about to be served. You can read all this in John 13.