Everything has been sort of a mess this week.
My heart has been disconnected from God and distanced from people. My co-worker has started calling me Eeyore.
I’m over the Internet. I’m tired of people saying dumb things and I’m tired of people using the glory of God to muddy the water.
I’m irritated by the pressure I feel to reduce my pretty complicated beliefs to 140 characters. My heart doesn’t fit in that space.
But in the middle of it, rises up Good Friday.
Out of it all, out of all the personal apathy and the global confusion, rises the Cross today.
In all its glory.
And it is, guys. It is glorious.
At the center of it is a man, who was God – who never needed to taste any of these things I hate.
He never needed to know the way it feels to be misunderstood.
He didn’t need to know the sharp pain of betrayal or the panic of condemnation. He didn’t need to taste the resistance that rises when you are wrongly accused or the humiliation of being shamed. He didn’t need to take on all the physical pain that the world has to offer.
And this man – who was God – certainly never needed to lose the perfect fellowship He has had for eternity past with the Father: He didn’t need to experience Hell.
But He did.
He took on all that so that today, in the middle of my apathy and in the middle of this messy world we could know this for sure: His love is spectacular. His justice, divine.
I can feel it breaking through the darkness in my hard heart. I can feel the Cross shining the light of the glory of God in the face of Christ into this world.
Say what you will about my God and His Gospel, but I know no other way than His. I know no other love but His arms spread wide. I know no other truth but the glory of His cross.