Me, the Sinner

 

 

 

Here is an interesting picture, look at it very closely…

 

 

 

 

As you may notice, Rembrandt depicts himself in his own painting. Why is that? Because he understands that he was the one who hung Jesus on the cross. We should all make our own painting in our minds, but in place of Rembrandt it’s us. It’s a little morbid to think about but you, me and everyone hung Jesus on that same cross. I’m sure you, as well as I, have heard that before but it doesn’t mean a single thing until we get this image in mind:

                                                    

                                                    ~               

                  

This enemy, he came with a pompous air. Self-righteous was he. He preached on the streets, to every beggar, cripple and even the worst of adulterers. A disgrace, I thought.

 But, really, he did nothing wrong. I was gave a sigh of relief when Pilate announced him guilty. Now I take the crude whip in my hand, the hilt fitting smoothly in my palm. The criminal lay in a helpless fetal position, his back already in ribbons.

Traitor...traitor...traitor...
 

  I almost cringed at the sight, but ignored the thought. He was guilty. He deserved his lot. I raised my arm and struck his back three more times. Jesus cried out a mournful song. He whispered something of a prayer, sparking my anger on the inside. I cracked my vise once more with all the power I could muster.

 Jesus groaned in agony, his pain bringing me pleasure. I watched with a smirk as that crown was shoved on his forehead. I saw the blood trickle down his temple, but He never uttered a retort or blasphemed his God.

Enemy...enemy...enemy...

 I walked next to him while he carried his own cross on his back that was already terribly mangled. But He seemed to carry a different weight than the worldly one in his arms. I watched Him like a shadow, not ready to be seen. I hated this crafty master of disguise.

Hate...hate...hate...

 Did he think he was better than we gentiles? If he was so sovereign, why not call for assistance? Surely this God would come. I now held a hammer in my fist. I had never been this close to Jesus.

 I lifted my hand, the nail in place when I glanced at Him. He looked at me with eyes full of grieving. Yet it was not sorrow for himself. Some supernatural love and caring pooled in those eyes, like a simmering glow underneath sunlight. I turned away and carried out my blow. I heard the muscles ripping and tearing apart as nail met wood. Jesus’ hand arched and his fingers curled, blood seeping through the puncture wound. He moaned in utter torture, but I cared not.
 

  We raised the cross into a hole we dug. We pushed the bottom plank into the hole, the sudden jolt racking His body. I thought the nails would tear through his hands and feet, but they stayed firm. I took one last look at this Jesus and, without looking back and steeling my jaw, turned my back and walked away.

 

                                                          ~

 

 Pretty gory, eh? Newsflash: that is you talking. That is me talking. Those are the words from every person whether they be Atheists, agnostic, Buddhist, Muslim and yes, Christian. Isn’t that heart wrenching? I couldn’t imagine doing that to anyone, much less the Christ, the holy Son of God for Pete’s sake! But…there is always hope.

 What is amazing is that even though we did all of those terrible things, God forgives us! This is really fantastic because if someone hung my son on a cross (for doing nothing wrong) I would have a rather difficult time doing so. The grace of God is something that you cannot hold in your hand, keep in a box, or describe with words.

 It’s almost a knowing deep within that you are forgiven and grace-filled. Doesn’t that bring tears to your eyes?? Even though we tortured the Messiah, he loves us. There is also a part 2 of the story. He rose again and made all things new. Even me and you.

 He, by rising again, made it possible for us to love him also (of course, that love is unmatchable to His). Now we have the great opportunity to be his bondservant, casting off the old garments of hate and disability and putting on the robes of grace and freedom.

 I don’t know about you, but that’s a breath of fresh air. So, keeping this in mind, enjoy the rest of the week knowing how much Jesus has done for you.