Last night started out as a celebration, some might say. As the worship team started playing, you could literally see the holy spirit descend upon them. With every note played, with every word sung, heaven opened up and the angels join in. Lingering in the air was the reality of this day as we were there to reflect upon it's events. Jesus sat down with his followers, his brothers, his friends, and became the lowest of low as he shared his last meal with them and washed each one of their feet. He gave to them his last command before leaving this earth, to love one another as themselves, then went to the garden to pray. He prayed not just for what was about to happen, but for his disciples and for those to follow...us. Christ, in his knowledge of the upcoming events, took time to pray for you, for me, for our children and our children's children. Then, he was taken away, betrayed by one of his dear friends with a kiss, and lead to slaughter. As I sat in my seat, hearing our priest recall that night, hot tears flowed down my cheeks. Once again the music resounded as we rose to process to the alter and share in communion. After returning to our chairs, the joyful noises were cut short. Each priest, deacon, and worship team member removed their robs and the sanctuary was engulfed in complete darkness. The voice of our Bishop pierced the silence with these words, "On your way out, do not reverence the cross. Our Lord has been taken away. It is a dark time." The life rushed out of me, and sobs uncontrollable came. It, indeed, felt dark.
Today, our Lord, was traded in for a murderer and beaten beyond recognition. His flesh hung from his bones and he said not a word. In their mocking, the Roman soldiers who were holding him prisoner, placed a crown of thorns upon his head, stripped him naked and spit in his face. In their "thoughtfulness" they covered his naked body back up for the long journey to Golgatha. Beaten, weak, and soaked in his own blood, he carried his cross. Reaching the place where he would be crucified, the soldiers stripped Jesus once again, tearing open the wounds that had dried to the clothing. Placing the cross on the ground and his body on top of the cross, the nails were hammered into his hands and feet with brute force. The air was pushed out of his lungs as the cross was brought upright and slammed into it's secured place. There our sins were placed upon this blemish free lamb and the Father could not look upon him. "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me." he cried out as he felt the absence of his Abba. When he had suffered enough, with his last breath, he exclaimed, "It is finished."
Can you imagine? All of this for you, for me? Willingly he did this for just a glimpse of our faces, of our love, so that we could be in relationship with him. I am speechless, humbled, and so very thankful and I can NOT wait for Sunday!
AMEN!
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