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BreakoutFriday, March 21, 2008
Isaiah 53:1-6 He grew up like a sapling before him, like a shoot from the parched earth; there was in him no stately bearing to make us look at him, nor appearance that would attract us to him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Yet it was our infirmities that he bore, our sufferings that he endured, while we thought of him as stricken, as one smitten by God and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that makes us whole, by his stripes we were healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way. And the Lord has laid on him the guilt of us all.
But on this day Jesus is dying. All the darkness of evil hovers above his cross, waits for the last breath, waits to scream with glee and celebrate, ready to stamp out what little is left of God on earth. Angels weep, no hope. All is lost. This is a bad day, unlike any other. Immediate gratification traps many a man and woman, and it's trapping Satan too, right now. He doesn't see the future. He doesn't believe Jesus will rise from his grave. Death is too strong. But Satan's gloat won't last long. Jesus, on whom "the Lord has laid the guilt of us all" is about to "descend into hell." And that's just the beginning. The Apostle's Creed goes on: "On the third day he rose again, and sits on the right hand of God. From there he will come to judge the living and the dead." Thunder and pain crease the sky. Lightning bursts through heavy awful afternoon darkness. God's imprimatur on the day strikes fear in many. He must be so angry. Perhaps. But God is opening gate after gate for Jesus, and the hinges are rusty. They've never been opened before. They make a lot of noise as they swing around and make the way broad for God and his mercy and his grace. Jesus is ready to descend into old black places of despair and bring light. This is his finest hour. You tell me over and over, Lord. "Do not be afraid." Even the haunting and death will be done and over. You have won. |
This is a day like any other day. The sun rises, the air is fresh, spring drives numberless green buds through the ground, flowers will be blooming very soon.