The Passion

I've been reading Pilgrim's Progress through again lately. Since I haven't been feeling well for a day or two, I've made quite a bit of progress. (I'd say I'm about half through.)

I came to the part where Christian's burden is released- when he climbs to the top of Golgotha and views the Suffering One on the cross.

It occurred to me... I don't think I really get it. I've read the story of the crucifixion, and it has impacted me- don't get me wrong! But I don't think I truly, truly "get it".

I'm also reading another book, called "He Loves Me!", and I came across this series of quotes this morning.

"...it was not so incredible to Abraham when the God who had touched his life asked him to sacrifice his only son. All the other gods in Canaan did it, why not his? But this God was not a false god like the others deemed interested in human sacrifice. This was the true God. He was going to reveal himself to Abraham and wanted him to know this God had nothing in common with Molech, Baal, or Asherah."

"Abraham had faced the ultimate test in his growing trust in God. Even though he was willing to sacrifice Isaac, he discovered that God didn't really want or need the sacrifice." (The author means the act of a human sacrifice, not Abraham's willingness to sacrifice all for God.)

"In this one act, God drew a line that separated him from all the false gods men had ever created. The false gods demanded sacrifices for their own appeasement. This God provided the sacrifice we needed to finally cover our shame and allow us to know him as he really is."

That's when I knew that I didn't get it. I thought, Man, I'm so visual! If only there were some way that I could see it, I know it would impact me...


So I watched The Passion of the Christ, for the first time ever.

I'd been putting it off. I was scared. I knew that, once I watched it, those images would be seared into my brain forever...

And now I get it.

At least, more than I did before.

I cried. No, more than that- I sobbed, I screamed, I wept and I pleaded with the soldiers on the screen to just stop hurting him!! That's God! What are you doing?!

And as I watched Jesus being tortured, I thought about pain. I thought about the fact that I'm hurting today, and it's hard to walk. I compared my pain to his pain... yeah, right. Mine is but a wisp of a shadow, even when solely comparing the physical aspect. How could I ever claim that God does not understand pain??

I also thought about the marvelous machinery of the human body. I thought about how Jesus was there, creating Adam... tenderly and meticulously sculpting and arranging the various tissues, muscles and nerves. I thought a lot about nerve endings. I thought about how desperately, wickedly ironic it was that the very aspects of God's creation he formed with such delicate care were now being exploited and used against him. God made pain to protect... and now, he was subjected to the utmost limits of it.

I thought about my healing. I thought about how much hope I have found, how much happiness and joy... and I realized that this... this... unspeakably horrific and unutterably heroic moment in time is the underpinning and undergirding- the very backbone- of all the good things I have found. How can something so good come out of something so ghastly?

"By his stripes, we are healed."

As sobs racked my body, I realized with great clarity that this is the cost of healing. And he wanted to give that gift to me. He did it willingly... so that I might be free.

Amazing love... how can it be that you, my God, would die... for me?

What kind of God is this? What kind of person goes through that... willingly? What kind of a person is woven from the fibers of such pure LOVE that, after hours upon hours of unspeakable tortures, and in the midst of yet another brutal assault, they can crack open swollen, blood-drenched lips to rasp out, "Forgive them"?

If I never knew before, I know now... and I will serve this God for as long as I live.

Now I understand why the apostles were so fervent. They got it.