There is a song that our worship teams like to sing, I can't remember the name of it. But the part of the song that always catches me- and I probably don't have the lyrics quiet right- is that my sin held you there and I hear my voice cry out among the scoffers. Uff da!
Around this time I love to go back and re-read John, Matthew, Luke, and Mark. Reading the passages that speak of Jesus' death and how he suffered. How he was betrayed and completely abandoned. It weighs heavily on my heart and makes Easter so sweet and reminds me of the amazing Kind I have the joy to worship.
However, it also enrages me. I get fighting mad at Judas and I think "how could he betray Jesus, and for only 30 pieces of silver." And I get mad at Peter for denying Jesus, for sleeping when he was to be praying for his friend and teacher. I think man alive this is Christ and you turn your back on him! This morning I was struck with the thought that I am no better. How often do I betray Jesus for far less. How many times do I fall asleep when I should be keeping watch, praying for a friend in need. How many times have I denied knowing Jesus in word, thought, or deed. And I am not just talking in a year how many times, or in a month. But in a day. How many times in a day do I come up short. How many times do we all come up short? And if you are judging and thinking well I am really not that bad- news flash my friend you are not seeing yourself rightly. We all fail Jesus miserably.
Listen for just a moment and you will hear your voice calling out among the scoffers. Look at your life, you decisions, your actions and you will see that our sin held him there. Pierced his hands, his sides, and left him utterly alone. Realizing exactly how wretched we are only adds to the greatness of God that he would continue to love us. I hp[e that it would also fill us with grace. That as we see ourselves properly cursing Jesus' name that we would see the debt forgiven us and return that grace to others.
Sometimes living in the world today I forget how radical the story of Jesus is. I have heard the same nuances and phrases since I was a child that I fear that they lose their significance. Today we see a cross and think of Jesus and knew that he hung on it for our sins, it is normal to see people with crosses on their neck. Or a cross in church, but in Jesus day wearing a cross was just plain madness. It was a tool of torturous death. It would be like if colonial people begin to use tar and feathers as a symbol of the religion. It would be off the charts crazy. Or perhaps waterboarding today. If you ran into a group of people that used waterboarding as a demonstration of the climax of their religion wouldn't you think that they had one to many screws lose? Maybe mom and dad dropped them on their head a few times. I hope that in this Easter season we don't lose sight of how radical Christianity is, and we don't fail to embrace that call. That we would step out boldly and stand with Christ hearing the voices of the scoffers but never deterred by it.
