“Behold the Man upon a cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished”
-Stuart Townend, “How Deep the Father’s Love For Us”
© 1995 Thankyou Music
Today, we remember that it was our sin, your’s and mine, that held Him there. For love of us, He endured the pain. For the joy that was before Him, he suffered unbelievable anguish. The sinless One became sin for us and, as a result, we whose righteousness is like filthy rags are made clean and clothed with the unbelievable righteousness of God!
Today at my church, we celebrated our Lord Jesus. We celebrated the cross, where Jesus died to set us free. We celebrate this darkest of days because we know the glory of Sunday is coming! But today, as I sang the lines from 2 Corinthians above, I turned my head and looked at the cross gracing our stage, and nearly lost it. When the truth of the Gospel hits home, it is nothing short of amazing. When the realization of just what it cost Jesus to save me hits me anew, it’s nearly unbearable! Why? WHY? But, oh thank God! He did it for us all!
So today, remember the Savior, battered, bruised, beaten, hanging on a cross, and dying…all for love of us. Remember. Mourn the cost of your sin. Mourn the price He had to pay. But then, lift your head and remember: the story doesn’t end there.
Sunday Is Coming.
The Wading Pool 
In our church, we have an 8-foot cross that is set up at the front. After we have covered each of the seven times Christ spoke on the cross, and the church is dark, save for the single spotlight on the cross, we form a line to each put a nail into the cross (there are pre-drilled holes). As if this isn’t “enough” to leave you close to tears, there’s singing words like “Once again I look upon the cross where you died, I’m humbled by your mercy and I’m broken inside…” and it is so powerful. Once everyone has placed “their nail,” the Christ candle exits the church and the tomb is sealed with a loud bang. We whisper The Lord’s Prayer and then exit the church in total silence as a lone bell tolls 33 times.
But we are never left without hope. The pastor stands at the back of the church, with the lit Christ candle–our hope still shines brightly. And we have no Benediction, because this is NOT over. We are merely waiting…for Sunday morning.
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Dawn,
Wow…what a way to remember. Just reading it nearly brought Amanda and I to tears. Powerful. Thanks for sharing that, and thanks for stopping by.
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