This is a repost, but it expresses so much what I feel during Holy Week, the intensity of the passion that leaves me speechless and in awe that He loved me and you so much.
During Holy Week, my soul has trouble looking God straight in the eye. Because I cannot quite wrap my brain around what all Jesus did for me – the sacrifice to be born in a manger, to grow and live not as a king but a man. I get that. I know the worth of that sacrifice. Yet I do not fully comprehend what He endured that last 24 hours of his life.
Holy Week. Jesus enters Jerusalem as a King and leaves it as sin. He feasts with his friends and is served betrayal. Betrayed by his friend, Judas. Betrayed by his church. Betrayed by his community. Betrayed to suffer in a way that I cannot grasp – because in our culture today, people are not flogged, publicly or privately. Criminals are not publicly hung, either on a cross, a tree or a gibbet, for horrifying crimes.
I cannot grasp the pain – even in childbirth, I am given drugs to hide the pain. I cannot grasp the mental anguish, though I have felt mental anguish. But not pain, mind numbing pain, heart draining pain that dropped me to my knees because I couldn’t bear the physical burden. Soul-dropping pain that allowed me to drop to my knees in supplication to a loving God, yes! But not the physical torture – nor the burden of every soul born or to be born. What does that weigh? How does that feel?
I cannot imagine the feeling of abandoned-ness that Jesus felt – because He, for a short time, was separated from God because He bore my sin, my parent’s sin, my children’s sin – the history of sin past, present and future. I cannot feel that because Jesus walked that walk, suffered that cross, went into the tomb and rose again – so that I would never feel separated from God.
No! My soul cannot quite look God in the eye at what His son endured for me. And, in my inadequacy to fully comprehend, I recognize my unworthiness. Because of that crown of thorns, those 3 huge nails, that cross, and the blood spilled, on Good Friday, I try to focus on what Jesus endured, to be reminded that my entrance into the Family of God was bought at a costly price. I do understand the result of that sacrifice and the impact it has on my life.