[I wrote all this on Thursday BTW. So. ya know. go with it.]
I love this day. We have much to remember on it – He and I.
This day a few decades back (give or take a few years) You were wrapping bones and cells and ligaments around this soul that is me. You were expanding lungs to inhale air.
This day a couple a thousand years ago (or at least what we remember on this day) You were staring down Your worst fears.
And all the days to come were in your mind when You did that. You knew what I would cost. You knew all the bumps and bruises you would bear from me. You knew the weight of wrath and the shackles of shame that would fall upon You in order to let that soul break free from the binds and bonds that my fathers’ fathers’ fathers’ father’s fathers had sold me into.
Friday we remember that cost. And Sunday we celebrate your victory. But today. Today is the day we remember the day that binds me to you as tight as any day in history; that proves your love to me as profoundly as anything could.
Because I know the agony of anticipation. I know that my greatest enemy is not wrath or pain or shame, but the anticipation of all these things. And I do not know what You felt that night, but I know enough to imagine how long and dark those hours must have felt.
It is Maundy Thursday, more than any other day, where I find myself in your suffering and I am convinced of the unique, incomparable strength of you love.
I do not know this love: to sit and stare down at the cup coming for You, and to walk forward into the Lions’ den, to face shame and death for no prize other than the glory of rescuing me from the same fate; to endure those long dark lonely hours, so that thousands of years later, when these lungs breathed their first breath, You could whisper to me promises to be there for me for every minute of every day and let me live inside a time where all your promises are yes.
Out of the anguish of your soul on that Thursday you looked up, you saw and were satisfied.
You saw me. You saw the way You would hold me in my own dark nights. You saw the glory of the Father displayed in my inclusion at your banquet and my adoption as a daughter, and despite all the agony, all the anguish, it was prize enough for you to walk forward.
‘Will you take this cup, and drink it for them, or not?…’ Christ’s soul was overwhelmed with the thought; his feeble human nature shrunk at the dismal sight. It put him into this dreadful agony which you have heard described; but his love to sinners held out…
When the dreadful cup was before him, he did not say within himself, why should I, who am so great and glorious a person, infinitely more honourable than all the angels of heaven, Why should I go to plunge myself into such dreadful, amazing torments for worthless wretched worms that cannot be profitable to God, or me, and that deserve to be hated by me, and not to be loved? Why should I, who have been living from all eternity in the enjoyment of the Father’s love, go to cast myself into such a furnace for them that never can requite me for it? Why should I yield myself to be thus crushed by the weight of divine wrath, for them who have no love to me, and are my enemies? they do not deserve any union with me, and never did, and never will do, any thing to recommend themselves to me. What shall I be the richer for having saved a number of miserable haters of God and me, who deserve to have divine justice glorified in their destruction? Such, however, was not the language of Christ’s heart, in these circumstances; but on the contrary, his love held out, and he resolved even then, in the midst of his agony, to yield himself up to the will of God, and to take the cup and drink it.” – Jonathan Edwards