Pictures flash in mind of an innocent man with pleading eyes…
“Please understand. Please understand how much I love you!”.
Surrounding him, a great cloud of unsuspecting witnesses who look upon the scene with a naivety that not even 2000 years can erase.
Can you blame them?
This man, “The King of the Jews” was now nailed hand and foot to a tree, common thief—
no, supposed prince.
Not even Pilate could deny propagating the passion. Despair in the midst of darkness, not even those who believed the most could comprehend the moment of
…final breath…
“It is finished”
What is finished? This life? If it was finished then why do I still
yearn for something not yet apparently apparent?
The God of the universe, the one in whom God was pleased to have His fullness dwell, the one in whom all power was made perfect, the one through which the invisible is suddenly made visible--
His side pierced, his human body ravaged from the hands of those he loves. For what?
For you? For me?
He became obedient,
obedient to death,
obedient to death on a cross…
obedient.
Is that it? Is that all she wrote? This nice man, this wonderful teacher, good karma, His perfect yin and yang?
And yet as the lamb looks to the lucid, the sheep understand little but loss.
Let our legs not be broken, so that one day we may stand with a crown of thorns lifted humbly upon our heads not as a reward but as reminder.
Do we long for that same fate? Do we long for a day where, no longer bound and broken, able bodied-whole bodied- believers
skipping jovially into the waiting arms of the one who endured it all?
Yet, we raise our hands in protest, in prayer, pleading that it all be over soon.
That God not look upon his servants with harshness
That He come surpassing all, for He is the beginning of life in full.
He came…He is here… and He will come again.
“Please understand. Please understand how much I love you!”.
Surrounding him, a great cloud of unsuspecting witnesses who look upon the scene with a naivety that not even 2000 years can erase.
Can you blame them?
This man, “The King of the Jews” was now nailed hand and foot to a tree, common thief—
no, supposed prince.
Not even Pilate could deny propagating the passion. Despair in the midst of darkness, not even those who believed the most could comprehend the moment of
…final breath…
“It is finished”
What is finished? This life? If it was finished then why do I still
yearn for something not yet apparently apparent?
The God of the universe, the one in whom God was pleased to have His fullness dwell, the one in whom all power was made perfect, the one through which the invisible is suddenly made visible--
His side pierced, his human body ravaged from the hands of those he loves. For what?
For you? For me?
He became obedient,
obedient to death,
obedient to death on a cross…
obedient.
Is that it? Is that all she wrote? This nice man, this wonderful teacher, good karma, His perfect yin and yang?
And yet as the lamb looks to the lucid, the sheep understand little but loss.
Let our legs not be broken, so that one day we may stand with a crown of thorns lifted humbly upon our heads not as a reward but as reminder.
Do we long for that same fate? Do we long for a day where, no longer bound and broken, able bodied-whole bodied- believers
skipping jovially into the waiting arms of the one who endured it all?
Yet, we raise our hands in protest, in prayer, pleading that it all be over soon.
That God not look upon his servants with harshness
That He come surpassing all, for He is the beginning of life in full.
He came…He is here… and He will come again.
-Reflections based on Colossians 1.15-20, Philippians 2.5-11, John 1.29-31, 19.1-35 and Matthias Grunewald's "The Crusifixion"
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