Knowing really well that by a pint of each sweat shed, he saved a gallon of blood – you could not stop him.
Sweat dripping, blood oozing, tears flowing; feeble legs about to give up; back bent; crown of thorns on his head, judged along two sinners; His knees touched the ground and up he rose again, off he matched on to the place of the skull with a weight on his back.
He did not whine neither did he feel sorry for himself. For the soldier he is, he pressed on with what was a master plan.
He did it just for you and me. When he was about to yield, he remembered you and said, ‘I’ll take one for the team.’ One for the team? How can you do that when you are the team? Without you there is even no team.
God came from his white dazzling clothes which are brighter than the sun and wore human flesh. He became just like me. Just like you. No, he did not sag his pants, but was just like you. No, he did not roll his eyes, but was just like you. No, he did not cuss and have tattoos, but yes he was like you. He was not ostentatious like you but he decided to ride on a donkey to his homecoming party.
For 33 years, he lived just like you. In his image, you were created. I hear you; you want proof! Listen, He was never home during his teenage years always having escapades making his parents worry sick and look for him all over town. Sounds familiar to your teenage hood fable? I know he was found in the temple among elders indoctrinating them. What about you? On second thought, don’t answer. It’s okay.
On this day – Easter – We remember Christ’s death and at the same time, we celebrate Life. Life without limits. Life with no chains. Life of love. Life of favor and great mercy. Life where we get more than we deserve and that is grace.
Picture the Creator in excruciating pain – something like Steve Jobs mulling over the use of an apple product – headed to the cross, to the cross where I was destined. Where I was to pay the price, not with a penny of course. Where I was to stand trial alone but an advocate he became for me, vindicating me for all my wrongs. Where I was to be wounded; I received my healing instead, through his stripes.
I have a different perspective of the cross: The cross is where I opened my eyes. It is where I started crying, crying like a newborn who just breathed world’s taint air for the very first time. I came across the most beautiful initiation that was placed in us – HOPE. I am at liberty to hope for tomorrow, to change the world with my smile and not allow the world to change my smile. To walk on the streets, not as a regular human being but as a son of a King. The great king: The King of the Jews. That whatever happens in my life, it was predestined. It was written on ‘the’ script. This makes me shut my mouth whenever I want to utter the famed words, “Eloi, Eloi, Lama Sabachthani?” That great men and women too, go through austerity and trials before they can watch their flower bloom in spring. That I can think differently and live my life beyond measure. That I do not need anyone to write me a letter of recommendation or give me a thumbs up for I know I myself am a letter, written in my heart, known and read by everybody. A letter from Christ, written not with ink but by the spirit of the Living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts. On the cross, is where I realized I had this power!
Lord, you gave yourself up for me? How? I don’t… I don’t get it. As a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God? Or do I remove the ‘fragrant’ tag?
Then you whisper in my heart, “More than Eau de Parfum can fathom.”
Now I can approach your throne of grace with confidence to receive mercy and find grace that will help me in my time of need. For you suffered when you were tempted – yet was without sin – making you able to save those who are being tempted.
You sympathize with my weakness: Like that girl ensconced in front of me; like that ‘red apple’ deal I am about to sign on the dotted lines; like that hot, greasy, scrumptious burger that holds me hostage; like that football team that fights with you for first position in my life; like that soap opera that is on a mission to tail my tears; like that money making business that I have become a slave.
In all that, you understand.
And though fragile, I grow
Just like you did
Tenaciously I will rise
I will rise as you did three days later
For death could not hold you down – it tried
Thank you because now I can enjoy this Easter with the acme illustration of love and sacrifice.
You then sneaked one eye open to catch sight of the evil world you have saved; though at the most humiliating position, you were high enough to see your life’s purpose of ultimately bearing our sins, accomplished. Having certified everything went according to plan, you said; “It is finished.” With that, calmly you bowed your head and gave up your spirit.