The Gift of Life.

 

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Matthew 5:44 But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.

It is morning.  Jesus is being condemned to die, and he offers no defense for himself.  He stands before his accusers, in silence.  They beat him.  Not just any beating, but a Roman beating that consisted of being whipped with a nine tailed whip with pieces of metal and rock tied to the end of it.  The barbs rip the flesh from his body.  The blood flows.  Their fists pummel his face, leaving him nearly unrecognizable as a human.  They tie a cross to him, and force him to carry it to the place of execution.  They spit on him and laugh at him in derision.  The crowd follows along, some watching, some jeering taunts and laughing at him. 

His emotions run rampant.  For these who are torturing him, are the ones he loves.  Those who he came to save, are now condemning him.  The hurt in his heart runs deeper than any cut the whip gave. 

At the top of the hill, they lay him on the cross.  The soldiers bring a large hammer and roughly hewn nails, and as he willing lays down his arms across the wood, they laugh at him, place the nail at his wrist and pound the nail through into the wood.  The first blow brings a stunning pain.  The second one sends shocks of pain up through his arm and into his head.  They nail his other wrist.  The pain is indescribable.  They lay one foot over the other, and drive a large nail through both feet into the wood.  By now the pain is enough to cause death.  That, coupled with the cuts from the whipping and the beating, would alone leave him near death.

They raise the cross, his body hanging from only the nails, every fiber of his being in agony from the beating and the nails,  and  they drop the cross into the support hole.  It drops with a loud thud, shaking his entire body, worsening the wounds, increasing the bleeding.  He hangs waiting for the last breath, gasping for air.  Watching his accusers, watching the crowd, and knowing every thought that goes through their minds.  He cries out in agony, to God the Father, but not to save himself, to forgive his tormenters.   

Imagine how you have felt when you realize something you have done is wrong.  The worry, the fear, the aching inside feeling sick because of something you have done. 

Now picture Jesus on the cross. All the sins of every person, from time beginning to the end of the world, bearing down on him.  A man who knew no sin, now experiencing all the emotion of murder, adultery, lying, thieving, every little sin and for every person ever born or to be born, all at once, all at this time. 

It grows dark suddenly.  An eclipse has occurred.  He cries out, that it is finished.  He has accomplished something no one else could ever do.  The creator of the universe has given his own blood and body as a sacrifice for those who he loves.  Those who hate him. 

This is not the end, and He knows it.  But He is giving the highest life as sacrifice in exchange for the lowest lives.  Because He loves them even more than they hate him.

I am at the foot of that cross. You are at the foot of that cross. Whether you love Him or hate Him, this sacrifice is for you.  He took your place at the execution.  He paid with his life, so you could live.

He, the highest life, died forgiving the highest wrong, and loving even the lowest life.  Can we not then forgive, from the slightest wrongs to the deepest hurt, love our enemy, love everyone, and turn those who hate to those who love?
Romans 5:8  But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.