The description of the world’s inhumanity towards Jesus is dark and horrific. There’s pure meanness directed towards this sinless man who had been beaten, tortured and now has his body hanging from nail pierced hands and feet. First it comes from the Roman soldiers, then the passersby, the chief priests, rabbis and elders. Lastly, the insults come from the two thieves dying next to him on their crosses. What was to be gained from such cruelty? The extent of Jesus’s suffering is too much to comprehend. I can’t even begin to understand the pain of those who loved him and followed him to his death on the Cross. When I read and meditate on these passages, I am overcome with personal sorrow. This is the God I love tortured and hung to die on a cross.
Our earthly lives are precious, measured and finite. Two years ago, I sat beside my father-in-law as he fought for every breath before dying. He treasured his life on earth and did not want to die. His death left me realizing the enormity of what Christ has done for me. It would be unthinkable to ask an ordinary man to give his life for mine, yet the very the Son of God did that for me. Jesus chose the path of suffering and death so that those who put him on the Cross could choose eternal life and enjoy the blessings of knowing God. His death and resurrection broke the power of all the cruelty man could heap upon him. Everyday, His love for me breaks the power of the sin that once claimed my life.
Matthews words send my heart back to an old hymn I remember sung during Good Friday services, When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. Isaac Watts says so well what my heart knows to be true.
When I survey the wondrous cross on which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss, and pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it Lord, that I should boast save in the cross of Christ my God;
All the vain things that charm me most- I sacrifice them to his blood.
See, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down;
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet, or thorns compose so rich a crown.
Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small:
Love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life my all.
klueh
Sixty-six books in a year 