This Jesus

     To prepare for Easter this year, I began reading through the Gospel of Mark a few weeks ago. Though I didn't quite finish prior to Resurrection Day, I took up where I left off this morning:

    "The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace and called together the whole company of soldiers. They put a purple robe on Him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on Him. And they began to call out to Him, 'Hail, King of the Jews!' Again and again, they struck Him on the head and spit on Him..." (Mark 15: 16-18)

    Overcome with miserable grief, I had to quit reading. I bowed my head in utter shame to be counted among the sinners who did this to my Beloved. The weight of all my iniquities pressed upon my sorry frame as I sobbed out all my regrets to my King. 

    "I am not worthy to be in your Presence, Jesus!" I said in muffled sobs, "But I love you so!"

    I don't want to be counted among this reviling mob. Reading the account of the trial and crucifixion nettles me, stirs me into a fit of discomfort to say the least. The words of this mournful hymn from my past came to my heart: "Chief of sinners though I be, Jesus shed His blood for me; Died that I might live on high, Lived that I might never die. As the branch is to the vine, I am His and He is mine."

    I want to be counted as one who loved Jesus, like the woman who sobbed at His feet as she wiped them with her hair. I want to be seen standing stalwart in faithfulness at the foot of the cross, not wrenched in bitter denial by the charcoal fire in the courtyard. Oh, how I hate this sinful nature of mine! 

    Then the words of Peter's Pentecostal address came to mind (Acts 2: 14-41). Filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter raised his voice above the din and declared with conviction, "Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs...this man was handed over to you by God's deliberate plan and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing Him to the cross."

    This man. The same one who fed the five thousand, gave sight to the blind and healed with compassion was the One they dressed in purple, spat upon and mocked. Hit repeatedly over the head. Scorned.

    Peter went on to say, "But God." (In these two words, the course of history and the fate of all mankind are held!) "But God raised Him from the dead...God has raised this Jesus to life...God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah."

    This Jesus, to whom all authority has been given, we shall see coming again on the clouds of glory. This Jesus, the babe of Bethlehem, Immanuel, is the One I worship and adore. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. This Jesus, whose sandals I am not worthy to untie, calls me His child. 

    When Peter's audience heard this, they were "cut to the heart" and asked, "Brothers, what shall we do?" 

    Indeed, what shall I do when the full knowledge of my sins weighs heavily upon me, and the unworthiness of my soul shines like the midday sun? The answer lies within a word seen as rather archaic in these days: Repent. Tell this Jesus I am sorry for what I've done, thank Him for His sacrifice which paid my debt and shower Him with pure love. Then, pick up my cross daily and follow Him.

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8