We don’t preach these chapters.
Rashes, discharges, childbirth blood—
who puts that in a sermon series?
It’s gross.
It’s weird.
It feels irrelevant—
until BBQ Man got sick.
He just wanted a snag with friends.
Went to the movies,
BBQs Galore,
the butcher—
and then the city shut its doors.
Unclean, they said.
If you’ve been where he’s been,
stay home.
Don’t touch.
Don’t come near.
And suddenly, Leviticus makes sense.
Not because it’s sanitary.
Not because it’s moral.
A rash isn’t a sin.
A period isn’t guilt.
But they all say something deeper—
this world bleeds, breaks, and decays.
And God is holy.
Perfect.
Set apart.
Utterly pure.
So how do broken people
with breaking bodies
come close to the Presence
without bringing in death on their shoes?
The woman who just gave birth—
unclean.
Not judged.
Just in need of waiting.
Of washing.
Of a sacrifice.
Because life poured out of her,
and blood is no small thing in God’s eyes.
The man with the boil—
quarantined.
Examined.
Hoping for the priest to say “Clean.”
Because disease doesn’t belong
in a world where God walks among tents.
The bald man—
probably fine.
The woman—
her cycle a rhythm
of waiting and cleansing.
Not shame.
Just the ache of a world
that groans with every discharge.
We’ve cleaned up the language now.
We talk of hygiene,
hormones,
menstrual health.
Rightly so.
But don’t miss what God was saying:
Nothing broken
can enter His wholeness
without being made new.
And then Jesus came.
He touched the leper.
He welcomed the bleeding woman.
He didn’t become unclean.
They became whole.
You don’t have to hide
your mess.
Your shame.
Your unclean heart. Come to Him.
He’s not afraid of your dirt.
He died to wash it away.
You are clean.
Now live like it.
Original message by Andrew West, The Bridge Church Macquarie Park
1 June 2025
The Afterword 
Leave a comment