Get Dirty

Joseph of Arimathea took down a corpse.

Hands sticky with blood.
Skin already cold.
The body heavy with finality.

He touched death.
Held it.
Wrapped it.

And in doing so—became ceremonially unclean for Passover.

For a dead man.

Most Christians miss this part of the story.

Joseph wasn’t some peasant in the crowd.
He was rich. Powerful. A member of the Sanhedrin.
A man used to control, comfort, and respect.

And Passover was only hours away—
the holiest moment of the entire year.

But he climbed Golgotha anyway.

Jewish law was crystal clear:

Joseph knew the cost.
He had followed these laws his entire life.

But Jesus was still hanging there.
Alone. Lifeless. Abandoned.

So Joseph does something unthinkable:
He walks toward death.

The hill is quiet now.
The soldiers drunk.
The women weeping.
The crowd long gone.

Only three crosses remain—
and one broken Savior in the middle.

Joseph approaches Pilate,
the very man who ordered the execution,
and asks for permission:

“Can I have the body?”

Pilate shrugs. Grants it.
The permission sounds like a sentence.

Now Joseph has to actually do it.

He climbs the hill.
The smell of blood and dust in the air.
Flies gathering.
The sky bruised with twilight.

He steadies the ladder.
Reaches for the first nail.
Pulls.

The sound rips through him.

And then—
God’s body collapses into his arms.

Still warm in some places.
Still bleeding in others.

The blood stains his linen robe.
It fills the cracks of his hands.
It lingers under his fingernails.
It will not wash off easily.

This is what obedience looks like.
Messy. Costly. Permanent.

Nicodemus arrives—another secret believer.
Another man who hid in daylight.
He carries 75 pounds of myrrh and aloes.
$150,000 worth of burial spices.

Two wealthy men.
Two former cowards.
Finally brave—
when it looks too late to matter.

They work fast.
The sun is sinking.
Sabbath is minutes away.

They wrap the body.
Pour the perfume.
Seal the tomb.

And then Joseph steps back.
Exhausted.
Defiled.
Unclean.

He can’t celebrate Passover tomorrow.
He can’t enter the temple for a week.
He just gave up the holiest night of his life—
for a corpse.

That’s the part we miss.

Joseph didn’t do this expecting resurrection.
He did it expecting nothing.

Jesus was gone.
The story was over.
And still, he honored Him.

This wasn’t faith in a miracle.
It was love for a dead friend.

And that’s the kind of love that changes everything.

Modern Christianity wants clean obedience.
Predictable obedience.
Obedience that doesn’t cost your Passover.

But Joseph shows us what real devotion looks like.

Real discipleship gets your hands dirty.
It ruins your robes.
It costs your comfort.
It might make you look foolish.

But it’s holy.

He climbed Golgotha when everyone else went home.
He touched death when others protected reputation.
He missed the holiest day of his life
to honor a broken body.

That’s not religion.
That’s worship.

And here’s the twist:
Three days later, that tomb was empty.

Joseph gave his grave to Jesus.
Jesus left it empty.

Joseph thought he was burying God.
He was actually setting the stage for resurrection.

Your obedience may look small, hidden, or messy.
But God is weaving resurrection through it.

Even when you can’t see it.

So ask yourself—

What are you avoiding because it’s too messy?
What obedience have you postponed because it’s inconvenient?
What grave are you unwilling to give?

Joseph of Arimathea held death in his hands.
Got blood on his robes.
Lost his purity, his position, his peace.

And gained eternity in the story of God.

Religion says: stay clean.
Worship says: get dirty.

Joseph chose worship.

He chose relationship.

What are you choosing?

I didn’t write the above - I made some edits - but I loved it so much I had to share ir with you.

The original is from this tweet