This is a post from 2013. One of, if not the, first posts. Somehow I deleted it and now it looks new.
I am in awe. It is kind of hard to think about the sacrifice that we are commemorating this week. I mean, come on, who would die so others could live? Others that would betray, curse, disown, disrespect, revile? Yeah, sure, we say we would die for people we love who love us back. But how many of us would actually die for someone we loved who hated us or hated what we stood for?
I could never imagine being born to die. Not only born to die, but living a life having to work with the thing I know is going to be used to take me out of here. I will never forget the *Resurrection Sunday* sermon I heard years ago in high school. Jesus was raised by a man who taught him about carpentry. Imagine knowing you were going to give your life up on a tree and having to listen to, look at the manipulation of trees for a huge portion of your life.
Imagine loving people, wanted to help people, showing people, teaching people, ministering to people, giving all of who you are to people who don’t even recognize who you are. Who don’t even appreciate who you are. Imagine knowing that it is a necessity that you must die but at the same time the concept of the pain and shame causes you to sweat blood. Imagine having to be separate from who you are, divine, sinless, and your Father, for something you didn’t do and people who may never accept or know you. Imagine the worst thing, worst feeling in the world, something you hate, would hate and having to take that on and confront it all because you love a thankless people.
Imagine spending your life in the same house for decades, everybody knows you and knows your family. You went on vacation with these people, you went to church with these people. Some of these people were your best friends. You spent almost every moment, good and bad, with them, giving to them far more than they could ever give you. They want what you’re giving, miracles, signs, and wonders. They appreciate you. They worship you. They allow you a parade. They think you are the best thing ever on Sunday.
Then comes the week. One of your friends sells you for 30 pieces of money and gives you away with a kiss on your cheek. Others fall victim to the mind games of weak men, who desire worldly power and fear what men who have no belief in the God you are, and want you to die, yet it was a totally different story Sunday. One of your best friends, the one who so perfectly conceptualized who you are, the one who knows you on a level that few do, promises to go with you to death, even cuts a man’s ear off, and is too ashamed to follow through with his promise.
Then comes The Day. You have to watch the woman who birthed you, cared for you, loved you, watch you die, not for anything you’ve done, but for what everybody else has and will do. People who were eager to eat the food, drink the wine, benefit from the miracles, join in in making fun of you, encourage those encouraging you to “show yourself” and abort the mission. You suffer for hours, bleeding, baking in the hot sun, a human sacrifice to atone for all the sins of mankind. Finally, you surrender to what is coming next and give up your life.
Now you have to go to enemy territory. Someone who you created, who worshipped you then turned on you, who desires to take everything from you for no real reason at all. You have to live in torment to provide a way of escape for all who believe in you, and accept the gift of you. Surreal to be subject to the complete antithesis of you and what you are.
Now, you have taken victory over the death and the grave and it is time to go home. Not the place you knew as a man for 33 1/2 years, but from the beginning of time. But imagine those same friends, grieving and crying. One still doesn’t believe, though all of what you said would happen has happened, they have seen all of what you have done. Before you can even go back to your father, a safe place full of love and peace, you have to rescue the best friend who has abandoned all you worked for together. You have to show yourself to the doubter. You have to give them instructions they don’t understand, a promise to wait for something they have never seen or felt.
What a life, what a week, what a gift, what a sacrifice, what a savior. What LOVE. Thank you Jesus. Thank you for your life. Thank you for giving me life, and a hope, and a future.