Hallelujah is Our Song

Isaiah 53:5~

But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. 

He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped 

so we could be healed.

2000 years ago, He was killed. Some might say it was without cause. Unjust. Cruel. Unfair. Some, myself included, tend to glare at those Pharisees... what were they thinking? What could have possessed them to hate and brutally torture a perfect, holy, innocent man?

I glare for a while before it finally hits me that I'm simply staring into a mirror. By accusing them of being despicable monsters and killing Jesus, I am just as hypocritical and self-righteous as I hate them for being. Every person who has ever had a heartbeat nailed Jesus to that cross. This is a fact, and is plainly stated in Romans chapter 3. 

The other night, as is tradition, I watched Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ. I've seen it three times now, and it just gets harder to watch every year. It's because every year, something new strikes me. With every blow of the whip, the clear love message becomes clearer and so much more obvious.

As I sat in church this Easter Sunday, I realized how strange we are. It made me excited, actually. As we took communion, I tried to place myself in the shoes of a complete stranger to Christianity, hearing for the first time people talk about 'Drinking Jesus' blood' and 'eating his body' to 'remember and share in His death.' We wear torture instruments around our necks! How is a cross any less brutal than a guillotine, or any stranger than wearing an electric chair as a pendent on a necklace?

I sing common church choruses almost without feeling, as the words are habitual- I don't remember when I first learned them. Only today did I suddenly notice how peculiar those words were. "Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?" "Show me the tomb where Thou wast laid." If these words can have such a distinct impact on an unbeliever, what kind of message does it send when we sing those words as numbly as we sing The Alphabet Song? We sing about the shedding of Christ's flesh, His crucifixion, the nails in His hands and feet, His blood pouring out over us... and we sing it like the most boring tune on the planet. 

And yet, those same words are what we are told to be the greatest message every! Those words are the Gospel! They are good news! The sacrifice that God made is so often lost- drowned by a flood of Easter eggs and barbecues, rest and relaxation. But that sacrifice is literally the most impossibly beautiful gift that could ever be given- abounding in love and mercy.

Think of every sin you've ever committed. The mere thought is overwhelming, I know. Every impure thought, every rude comment, every grin at the expense of someone else's pain... I can't count the number of times these appear in my own life's story. Now, as a rough estimate, say that there has been approximately 100 billion people on earth. Ever. 100 billion people have breathed this air, and had life. And every one of those 100 billion people have sinned. Imagine every sin you've committed once more, and multiply that by 100 billion.

Now think of a baby. Maybe yours or your neice's or nephew's or a friend's. The most innocent, pure looking creature on the planet. So fragile and meek. Just think for a moment what would happen if every single one of your sins were suddenly piled onto that baby. Even the weight of just one person's sins would be unbearable for someone as innocent as an infant. Now imagine the accumulated sins of 100 billion people, all taken off of their shoulders, and placed on one, tiny, beautiful baby.

No doubt, the pressure of the evil would kill the baby instantly. There is no way any human can stand such an atrocity.

That is the sacrifice that Jesus gave for us. Not only was he crushed for our sins, he was crushed by them. Without the power of the Most High strengthening Him for the trial and the crucifixion, the insurmountable weight of all the sin would have broken Him. He was all God, and He was all man. He had every murder, rape, theft, lie, kidnapping, abuse, slander, and sin of every one that had ever lived, everyone that was living, and everyone that would live in the future. (That'd be you and me.)

The weight of such sin is so heavy, the burden of it is meant to be dragged down to hell. But out of love so amazing, so divine, Jesus bore that sin and endured even more torture, all so that we could spend eternity in paradise.

It amazes me when I read about the Pharisees, and it haunts me to realize how much we have in common. They refused to see the evidence that Jesus Christ was, indeed, the Messiah, and without realizing it, they were the Devil's mouthpiece.

Without Jesus' death and resurrection, there would be no forgiveness of sins! All the way through His life, Jesus was tempted by Satan to give up. We think that Satan only tempted Jesus three times, out in the desert? Oh, no. Right up until Jesus breathed His last, Satan was there, coaxing the Messiah to let go of the burden of sins, and abandon His people.

Matthew 27:41-42~

In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him, "He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! He's the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.

These Pharisees believed they were ridding the world of an evil man. They thought they were pleasing God. Now, their words are on display to us today, and we can see that they were only voicing the Devil's commands. They wanted a miracle for themselves. They wanted a specific miracle. They wanted Jesus to deliver them from the Romans. The prophecies of the Old Testament had helped them create a Messiah that would perform and act a specific way. When Jesus didn't measure up to those standards, they concluded that He was not from God. 

As Jesus was suffering and nearing His end, they were desperate for Him to show them. They thought they were giving Him one last chance to prove to the world that He was God. I just want to grab their shoulders and shake them: "Don't you realize that you are asking for God to abandon you? Don't you realize that without His death you are not cleansed?" 

If Jesus had complied with their pleadings and mockery, if He had succumbed to the temptation of being free of pain and of suffering... our faith would be dead. We would be following a God who cares only for Himself, and not for His creation. There would be no point to life, because there would be no hope for sinners. 

This is why we sing of the blood. The power in the blood. This is why we shout that He has risen, indeed! Hallelujah is our song, and we will continue to sing for all of eternity! We are not morbid, creepy, sinister people. Yes, we sing of ancient torture and talk joyfully about this innocent man's cruel death. But even more importantly, we know what happens next. We sing because this death and resurrection has given us an undying hope, a hope that can never be worn down.

Since our God has conquered death, we have no need to fear it. This is why we carry our crosses. As He died, we die to our sins. As He lived again, so we live for Him. He paid our debt- a debt He did not owe.

Happy Easter!

76 Years

Technically... we are immortal until we die. It's a way of thinking that makes people believe they can do anything, accomplish anything, and dream big. We all feel indestructible. When hanging out with a group of friends, hardly ever will anyone look at each of the people and think, "In ninety years, every single one of us will be dead." No one likes to think about that, so usually, they don't.

Then they break their neck. Then they get diagnosed with cancer. Then they're best friend is killed. Then they think about death. They think about it, because it becomes real. And then the massive question looms a little closer overhead: "How much time do I have left?"

Death is not really a normal fear. No one knows what it will be like, but it is obvious that it is something that is inevitable, thanks to sin. So, until that 'distant' day when we breathe our last, we live like we will never die, because that's the way things seem.

I took a quick little quiz that estimates how much longer I have left, assuming that I will die naturally. I have 76 years left, according to this simple Life Clock. It estimated that I will live until the ripe old age of 92: http://www.poodwaddle.com/Life/

Though it quickens my heart rate slightly to see that number, it really doesn't bother me. 76 years is a long time. Long enough, in fact, to see many of my loved ones pass away.  76 years is more than quadruple the length of the life I have lived so far. 76 is far away. Or so it seems.

My life could actually only have 5 years left to it. It could have 5 days. Though that may seem like a morbid thought, it is true. Then, when you really start to think this through, you think about the people you pass every day. Their life could be stretching on beyond sight, or that could've been the last time you ever passed by them. Life is a God-given thing, and He can take it away. He has every right to, and certainly the power to do so.

I have been thinking a lot about Jesus' crucifixion, Easter coming up so quickly, and all. I have been thinking about the two thieves on the crosses beside Jesus'. They knew that their lives were soon to be terminated. Imagine the fear. The regret. The anguish. The pain. As they waited in their cells to be tortured, I can imagine that they were going through all the words they had said, the lives they had taken, and the people they had harmed. Had it been worth it? As they were flogged and nailed to pieces of wood, I highly doubt that they were ready to die peacefully.

These men knew death, because it was right on their doorstep. They could practically taste it. Jesus could, too. All three men were breathing their last few breaths, yet they all had different outlooks.

For the one criminal, he was angry and thought that it was too late to do anything about where he was now. His life was through, and he gave up. He joined in with the mockers who assailed Jesus with taunts. With pain stabbing through his palms and feet and every wound on his weak body, death seemed to real and too powerful for Jesus to conquer. Putting his trust in someone who was dying right next to him didn't seem like an option.

For the second criminal, he also knew that death was just minutes away. He felt himself struggling for breath- and for life. However, he also saw the man beside Him, the man who could forgive him. He didn't want to die with such guilt, shame, and regret. Although he had to die on a cross, he needed to go with a hope.

Luke 23:40-43 ~

"Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 

"And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; 

but this man has done nothing wrong." And he was saying, "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!" And He said to him, "Truly I say to you, today you shall 

be with Me in Paradise."

Stronger, even, than the pain that stung in every inch of his body, was the relief and hope that must have flooded this man's heart. For the first time, He was secure. Secure. It's an odd thing to be when you are tethered to a cross with nails through your limbs and blood gushing out of dozens of deep lashes... but hope and love are stronger than anything else. Hope and love. That's what Jesus is, and it is what He brings.

I want to be like that thief. I am no better than he was. The smallest speck of sin is enough to keep someone out of heaven, so on that scale, he and I are very much alike. Our sentence should be identical. Hell. 

I am not being crucified any time soon, and for now, I feel safe and comfortable. I feel like death is millions of years away from me, and it could possibly never come... but it will. Though it sounds like a depressing way of thinking... I want to live in that reality. I want to be like the thief who knew that he was doomed and understood that he was a sinner. He saw that his only hope was to put his trust in the grace of Jesus. 

In my life right now, as I am sure is similar in yours, Jesus doesn't truly seem like the only hope I have. I know that He is, but it isn't a truth that I completely grasp. I tend to act like friends are my hope and my future. My grades are what gives me a purpose. Dancing and succeeding are what drives me. This is so wrong!!

I want to turn myself inside-out and be the thief. I don't want to steal, but I want to be somewhat... exposed. If all these things of mine were stripped away, I would be much like the criminal on the cross- left to die without my friends, talents, ambitions, and family who I have based my life around. 

Then, and only then, will I see that there is only one hope. Christ. I am nailed to a tree, naked and beaten and in shame and guilt because all those things that I devoted myself to were NOT WORTH IT. But Jesus is. He is worth it and He is mighty to save.

Zephaniah 3:17~

The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. 

He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, 

but will rejoice over you with singing.

Living a life of hypocrisy and self-righteousness is the way to destruction. It is the path of the Pharisees. I'll admit that I am definitely guilty of hypocrisy... but I am praying that God will humble me and show me that pride is disgusting in His eyes. Notice that it was the lying, cheating, murdering, stealing, backstabbing, traitorous criminal that was told by the God of the universe: "Truly I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise!" It's so amazing to me- it's almost unbelievable.

A life of confession and repentance is what God desires, not one of outward cleanliness and inward evil.

76 years of confession and repentance? Sounds good to me.