For many years I have tried to grasp the magnificence of such a gift God has given to mankind by presenting His son to the world, who dwelt on this planet in skin like us that was ripped apart - sinew, bone and ligament; severed from His father, racked in the severest of pain, to die broken in body and maybe even in His spirit. He was fatally pierced for something He never did. For many years I have pondered, thought about, and even at times anguished over my inability to grasp the very essence of this cruelty that changed the very course of humanity from damned death to life. I’ve had such remorse at times to know that I lack the intimacy needed to feel and be moved at depths worthy of this magnanimous action of will on the cross. Will I ever be provoked by such a willingness to choose what seemed, can I say it – ridiculous, audacious?!
I have yet to fulfill what I am called into, but I drink deeply in anticipation, racing to the call. I was asked to serve communion, but I’m just beginning the licensing process, with several months of preparation and lack credential. I’ve put myself under the authority of this process outlined in the church discipline, submitting myself to the process. And then I saw something. When Christ said He only did what the Master told Him to do, that’s what He did. He wasn’t moved by someone’s whim or wants, and yet, because He was God, we see in the scripture that when He was moved with compassion, He acted. Now this is quite a mystery for me. It’s enough to chew on for a lifetime, maybe forever!
