What would you do if someone spat at you?

I hailed a jeep on my way to a church meeting. Just as I was about to alight, I heard a spewing sound, followed almost instantly by a warm oozing feeling on my right hand. Yep, someone from the jeep spat at me -- unintentionally, of course, so I never took it against the boy.

That started movies of bacteria and viruses playing in my head. Later I learned it wasn't just my hand; my Bible -- at least, the denim cover -- was also partly . . . wet.

I was amazed at how I reacted. "Yuch! Yuch!" were the only ones I said. I didn't get mad, just a bit irritated at why people find the need -- and pleasure -- to spit in public places. I mean, they could swallow "it" for the meantime, until they could find a decent lavatory.

Throughout the ride, I thought of two things: first, handwashing; and second, Christ.

I was reminded that sinning is like spitting on Jesus' face. It's a mockery of what He has done on the cross. So I thought, when I looked at my right hand, "What is this compared to what Jesus had to endure?"