I was a small child, when I began to understand the full meaning of Good Friday. I remember dreading the retelling about Jesus being flogged, spit on, nailed to a cross and so much more. The suffering was too much for my child's heart.
I still cringe when I read the details of the hours before Jesus's death on the cross, but I have grown in understanding. I know, now, that He chose the cross so we could be free from the punishment of our sins. Does it make sense? Maybe not, but when did love ever make sense?
Love is a powerful choice that sometimes requires a sacrifice.
I was reminded in the scriptures today, Jesus tried to tell the disciples what was ahead. So much was beyond their comprehension. How did they miss it?
As Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside privately and told them what was going to happen to him. “Listen,” he said, “we’re going up to Jerusalem, where the Son of Man will be betrayed to the leading priests and the teachers of religious law. They will sentence him to die. Then they will hand him over to the Romans to be mocked, flogged with a whip, and crucified. But on the third day he will be raised from the dead.” -Matthew 20:17-19
Friday was a day of storms. The earth shook. The temple curtain ripped open, exposing the "Holy of Holies". Jesus pressed on through each beating, interrogation and the shame of public humiliation. He did not quit. He did not call for a heavenly rescue. He endured it all so we might be spared.
How far will love go? Casting Crowns said it well, "As far as the East is from the West... one scarred hand to the other."
Today, I am grateful for Good Friday.
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