I’m in Canada, and blessed to have today as a statutory holiday. I’ll be enjoying a community worship service this morning, complete with lots of music, Scripture, some teaching and a celebration of the Lord’s Supper.
Today’s a hard day: good because of God’s goodness to rescue us even when the price was so high, but sad because of that price.
What else can we say but “Thank You, Lord”?
I can think of a few songs to share. Here’s one that means a lot to me: “You Are My King,” written by Billy James Foote, sung here by the newsboys.
Who among you fears the LORD
and obeys the word of his servant?
Let him who walks in the dark,
who has no light,
trust in the name of the LORD
and rely on his God. Isaiah 50:10, NIV*
The past few weeks have weighed a bit heavily on me. Prayers, alone and in groups, dwell on a mountain of needs: sickness, death, emotional suffering.
In one of my prayer groups, a member spoke of having a hard time “seeing God’s plan” in a heartbreaking need. Not that God caused the problem, but why isn’t He intervening with the miracle we’re praying to see?
I thought of this on Good Friday. Nobody could see God’s plan when it included Jesus dying on the Cross.
But He had a plan.
And it shook the universe.
If we know God’s character, we know we can trust Him. Even when He’s silent and everything is going all wrong.
So I choose to keep bringing the sick and wounded to Him, bringing my lack of vision too.
Father, prayer isn’t meant to dwell on the problems, but to dwell on You. Forgive us when we get it wrong. Thank You that we can bring these needs to You. Help us find our rest in who You are, in Your character and Your promises. When we can’t see Your plan, let us see You – caring, moving, sustaining.
While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, arrived. With him was a large crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests and the elders of the people. Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: ‘The one I kiss is the man; arrest him.’ Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, ‘Greetings, Rabbi!’ and kissed him.
Jesus replied, ‘Friend, do what you came for.’
Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him. With that, one of Jesus’ companions reached for his sword, drew it out and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.
‘Put your sword back in its place,’ Jesus said to him, ‘for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?’
We count down to tragedy… and triumph. We remember the events that led to our Saviour’s cruel death on a rough-hewn cross, disfigured and despised.
For us.
Sunday’s coming, and we’ll celebrate His glorious resurrection, perhaps the pinnacle moment in God’s mind-boggling plan.
But first comes Thursday: the Last Supper, Gethsemane’s agony, the betrayal. Friday: the mockery, the abuse, the physical torture of crucifixion. Saturday: the quiet before the storm nobody knew was coming.
It’s tempting to skip all the hard stuff, move right into the celebration. But look what Jesus did for us.
I’ll never be able to wrap my head around it, but He gave Himself intentionally, the perfect Lamb of God foreshadowed in the Old Testament sacrifices, despite the unimaginable agony of body and spirit. Because He loves us.
He.
Loves.
Us.
Hallelujah, what a Saviour.
Have a blessed Holy Week. Our song is an extended version of the Newsboys‘ “I Am Free.” Listen to the Scriptures about ¾ of the way through. This is the Gospel. He came to set us free.
