Love Part 5--His Love was Screaming in the Silence

If there was ever a man who deserved to live life filled with joy, it would have been Jesus. Though clothed in the clothes of the common, He deserved royal robes, a golden crown, and a scepter. His character was marked by a righteousness no other man had ever achieved. His was a ministry characterized by miracles, grace, freedom, and healing. He exhibited authority over nature, man, and demons. More importantly He possessed a pure, unadulterated love for His Father and an unconditional, sacrificial love for man that was the motivation for every act He performed and every word He spoke. 

To begin to understand the depths of Christ's love, we are looking past the life He lived to the death He died. In was in His death that He chose to set aside His right to live to experience our deepest fear--of death. He chose to set aside His glory to bear our heaviest burden--the burden of sin and shame. He chose to set aside His perfect relationship with His Father to feel our deepest pain--our separation from the Creator.  

During His life Christ expressed His love through through many active ways. But at the end He chose to express it in a different way. As He was arrested, tried, beaten, and crucified, He maintained a purposeful silence that spoke His love even more loudly than the all the words He spoke and all the actions He carried out. 

The same mouth that spoke the universe into place was silent when He was taken away. The same mouth that calmed angry seas remained silent as people twisted His words during His illegal trials. The same voice that called a man from the grave refused to answer lying accusations hurled. The same voice that caused soldiers to fall back remained silent as He was beaten. The same strong voice that confronted the Pharisees was silent in the face of the mocking. He who had every right to defend Himself and He who had the power to walk away remained silent--and His love it was screaming in that silence because in the silence He was actively laying down His life. 

He remained silent when soldiers took their whips with sharp stones and bits of bones and beat Him, ripping apart His flesh. He was silent when soldiers put a scarlet robe on His raw flesh and jammed a crown of thorns upon His brow. He was silent when the soldier's mockery was no longer enough to satisfy the angry crowd. They were so enraged by the perfect life He lived, the sinners He forgave, the broken people He healed, and the people bound by sin He had set free that they joined the cruel soldiers by slapping His face, pulling hairs from His beard, hurling curses in His ears, spitting saliva in His face, and bidding for the clothes He would no longer need.  

He maintained His silence as the robe was ripped from His wounded back. He maintained it with each clang of the hammer as the searing pain of nails broke through flesh and bones. He remained silent as they picked up the cross and dropping it into the ground with a thud. He was silent as He gazed into a sea of faces filled with hate. He was silent through the searing pain of the nails and the pain of raw back rubbing against rough wood as moved to take each breath. He was silent--hanging suspended between heaven and earth and His silence...His silenced it screamed of His love as it was being poured out. 

He looked around at the people below and finally broke the silence with words we all need to hear. He didn't scream of the injustice or demand to be set free; He asked His Father to forgive--forgive those who rejected Him, forgive those who denied Him, forgive those who deserted Him, forgive those who falsely accused Him, forgive those who mocked Him, forgive those who beat Him, forgive those who hammered nails, forgive those whose sin evoked the Father's wrath. 

As the afternoon wore on darkness blanketed the earth and our sins--past, present, and future--ware laid on Him and Christ faced a realm of pain never ever experienced before or since. He felt the collective pain we feel when we are bound by sin--lonely, hopeless, and forsaken. For the first time He was separated from His Father because of our sin and in the anguish of being alone He broke the silence. It was a heart-rending cry from the depths of a deeply hurting soul, "My God, My God why have You forsaken me?"  With a heart broken by separation, He released His spirit, dying the death--the death we deserved. 

The silence surrounding His death speaks loudly of love. He loved deeply enough to die for disciples who deserted Him, for Peter who vehemently denied Him, for those who didn't recognize Him, for those who hated Him, for those who arrested Him, for those who beat Him, for those who mocked Him, and for those who hammered the nails. He loved deeply enough to maintain His silence and to stay on the cross as our sin, yours and mine, made Him feel alone and forsaken. 

His outrageous love endured the cruelty of the cross for the joy of presenting us, made holy and pure by His blood, as beloved children. We, the children who sin, who struggle with unbelief, who fail to love well, who at times deny Him, are the children purchased, purified, covered, and protected by the blood He shed. And His love? It was screaming in the silence. 

God's Perspective--An Easter Post

As I read the gospels, I imagine I am an observer of the stories being played out. When I do this, I realize the disciples were limited in their knowledge of the significance of the events they were observing.  As the disciples walked and talked with Jesus, they were human who were not omniscient. They understood only from what they observed and what their human finite minds could grasp. In the short time span they were with Jesus, they saw Him perform powerful miracles--the blind received sight, the deaf were able to hear, lepers had their skin made new, and the dead were raised to life. In addition, a bleeding woman was healed by touching His hem, a legion of demons was cast out by a spoken command, and common water was turned into extravagant wine. Because of Him, crowds were fed on a couple of fishes and a few loaves of bread with baskets heaped full of the leftovers. His disciples also saw Him walk on water, speak with such authority that the seas and the winds obeyed, and cast nets at His bidding into an empty sea and saw them fill to the brim until the nets broke.

The disciples also heard Him speak many sermons, some of which were filled with hope and encouragement. Some sermons explained deep theological concepts and others contained prophesies about the future. Some were strong, assertive confrontations aimed at the Pharisees who enslaved people with their do's and don'ts and others contained blessings spoken over the hearers. All heard Him claim to be both God and man and His actions certainly verify that truth.

During what would be His last week on earth, He entered the city riding on a donkey as people waved palm branches and shouted Hosanna--an entrance certainly fitting for the upcoming King. But soon things began to unfold in ways the disciples weren't expecting. They had the Passover Meal with Him. He picked up one of the symbolic loaves of bread and He broke it, saying it was His body broken for them and then He took one of the cups, saying the wine in it represented His blood that would be shed for them--words contradicting a coming Kingdom. Then the Master, The Messiah, The Son of God, The Son of Man, washed their feet, showing by example the leaders He called them to be.

Then there was the late night visit to the Garden with a few close friends. There He prayed so fervently and was so full of ambivalence that He began to sweat drops of sweat tinged with blood. And, His friends slept as anguish filled His soul. He prayed and prayed and prayed, asking His Father to remove the cup of suffering, while at the same time proclaiming His father's will be done.

Soon after He prayed He was arrested, tried, flogged, dressed in purple, and crowned with a crown of thorns--the very thorns that symbolized the curse. The disciples had to wonder in those moments what had happened to the power He had shown before. His country men rejected Him and they yelled for Pilate to crucify Him. Betrayed by a friend, denied by another, and deserted by those who had loved Him best.

The same God-man who had commanded the seas to calm, the demons to leave, diseases to flee, was hung on a cross. The long awaited Messiah hung between heaven and earth and the sky grew dark. As He breathed His last breath, the curtain of the temple was torn clean in two, leaving nothing between sinful man and a Holy God. How I wonder if they understood the significance of that or if in the moment they feared it meant God was angry with them and was departing from their midst. What did they think as the earth shook, as rocks split, and as tombs, once sealed, were open wide?

All seemed hopeless as the Messiah was laid to rest. Dark were the days that followed as His disciples were filled with grief, disappointment, and shame. No Kingdom came. No Messiah reigned. No Teacher remained to teach, so back to their fishing they went.

What had happened to the man whose words alone conveyed power enough that the universe came to be, that diseases fled, that dead bodies rose, that demons pleaded and obeyed? What happened to the man who was courageous enough to speak strong truth that tickled the self-righteous pride of the  Pharisees? It seemed as if the disciples hope for a messianic kingdom died as they laid Him in the tomb, struggling with their own failures, grieving their unmet expectations, and their hope for freedom so far away.

Then three days later, the tomb was found open and empty except for His grave clothes. The risen Savior began to appear to those He called His own. He called His disciples back to the work He wanted them to do. They didn't understand during those bleak hours when their hope ran low--the hours that Jesus hung suspended between heaven and earth--that the greatest victory was in the making. That was the moment the sinless God-man took our sin in His body--every sin imaginable--the lies, the murders, the adultery, the pride, the hatred, the gossip, the gluttony, the acts of violence, the sexual perversion, the unbelief, the withholding of love, and the hiding. And as our sin was taken He gave us His righteousness in its place, reconciling us forever to God--the God who created us, the God who loved us, and the God who laid down His life for us.

I don't think the disciples understood in the moment the full significance of the cross--and I am not sure that we do either. The dark hours belied the fact that the love of God was being poured out on mankind as Jesus bore our sin in His body. In the darkness of that day the disciples didn't see that the righteousness of God came face to face with the sinfulness of man. They didn't see that their was a spiritual battle waging in the background and the enemy was being completely, forever defeated and that the curse was finally lifted and man could be set free. They didn't have the knowledge to see that in Jesus' death they would be given life--spiritual life--life that would transform them and allow them to overcome evil with good. 

I love that many churches revisit the passion of the cross through Good Friday services. For it is in remembering the pain of the cross that we are reminded of the deep love of God. It is in remembering the Lord's death that we realize again and again that the grace He extends daily to us didn't come cheap. The grace that is free to us cost God the price of His Son--the Son in whom He was well pleased, the Son whom He loved, the Son who by His own choice was obedient to the death on the cross.

I hope I never forget that at the time the world seemed most hopeless, irrevocable hope was being birthed and the darkest times are those times when God's light shines the brightest. From a human perspective things can look bleak, but our God is the God of the resurrection power. When life seems hopeless and confusing from our vantage point, God sees it from the cross and the open grave and He uses those things to bring about His perfect will. A God who loves so radically is surely a God we can trust.