Posted by on Apr 18, 2014 in My Blog, Think About This | 0 comments

Approaching Easter…The Garment

There is a song about Christ’s death that says something like this, “they should have been my hands, where the nails were; they should have been my feet, where the nails were; it should have been my side…for it’s for me my Lord died.”

Yes, those nails should have pierced my hands, my feet and the sword should have been plunged into my side, not His.  My sins, my salvation…His pain, His Grace.

I guess most of us have all thought about this.  God so loved us that He gave His own Son to take our nails, our sword, our pain, our death so that we might live…so that we would be forgiven.

Now, you’ve got the picture, don’t you?  I see it as a gray looking, windy day on Golgotha.  Up on a hill, stood three crosses…two of them with thieves…we might even say they “deserved” THEIR crosses.  But, the third one. That third cross…that one was yours and mine.  Ours, the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.  Remember how the Crown of Thorns adorned his head?  The blood ran down His forehead, His head hanging slightly…I wish I could have wiped his brow for Him.  The nails piercing His hands and feet.  It hurts to really think what that must have felt like.  I’ve wondered why those nails didn’t just rip right on through His hands with the weight of His body.  Yet, I’ve thought about how trim His body looked in drawings…after all, He never indulged Himself  and He did keep a busy schedule!

Then, there’s the garment.  Simply a loin cloth, barely hanging around His hips.  Hanging.  I see it dirty and bloody after walking His final walk from Gethsemane to Golgotha, carrying our cross, being knocked to the ground by the jabbing and jeering soldiers, beaten and whipped. Our Lord carrying our load, bearing our pain, stripped for our forgiveness.  I must admit, I would have wanted to yell and scream at the soldiers and the crowd for persecuting him.  Instead,  He asked, “Father, forgive them.”  What a Lord!

It’s odd, isn’t it, how sometimes certain things can puzzle us?  That garment bothers me.  Not really fit for a King.  Our King.  I would have liked to have washed it for him. Instead, He washed ME.  Clean.  Completely clean.

I would have liked to have made Him something more suitable, more honorable, more King-like.  Instead, He prepared a Table for me…and you, too.

I would have liked to have given him a drink of water…he had to be thirsty.  Instead, He offered me His blood, shed for me…His body, broken for me, so that I might NEVER thirst again.  

I would have wanted to stand up for Him.  Instead, He hung for me.  The bread and the wine.  Remembrance.  Covenant.  Grace.  Love.  Drink.  Taste the tears, the pain, the humiliation, the loneliness and, then taste the Joy of forgiveness.

The cross?  Yours and mine.  The sacrifice?  His, for sure.  The garment?  The label reads, “Especially for Jesus, Designed by the Father.”

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.  Amen.

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