Matthew 27:25 is a statement made by the crowd barking at Pilate to cruciy Jesus. It's from there that Jesus goes down a path of torment and agony. A painful time that I can NOT imagine on my darkest day.
As a show of remembrance, I and a few other men who work out together in a Christina Minsistry entitled Ironworks, took part in the task of carrying 135 pounds of weight the distance of a half mile. It is said that the Roman cross that Jesus carried was about that weight and that the distance He was made to walk to Golgotha was a half mile.
I knew before I started that I was OK with failing this task. Not because I am one fond of failure but because Jesus had done this for ME as well as the world, and that I can never be as good as Him.
One-eighth of a mile in, I had to drop the weight and rest. The bar dug into my back-bone and my arms were getting tired from being held up. I needed to readjust my padding for my back-bone for when I put the weight back on. I checked my shoe strings to make sure that my Sacucony running shoes were not going to cause an issue around the bend. I wiped the sweat from my brow. After six breaks, three of which one of the other men helped me with the padding to sit straight on my back-bone, and one of which they also helped me lift the weight over my head and gently rest it on my back, I finally finished the walk.
It was awful. I felt like I accomplished nothing since I rested six times. I should have walked it straight through. I'm still young, active and full of fire. I was weak. But I was OK with the results. I was OK because of the difference between my walk and Jesus' walk.
Jesus was flogged. Beaten with fists and feet by some people from the crowds but mostly by Roman soldiers with a grudge agaist the humble, especially the King of the Jews. Jesus was whipped to the point that He most likely held no more skin on His back, bare bone showing and causing great agony. He was mocked, stripped naked, spit upon, smacked, a crown of thorns pressed agianst His head to show that He was a king to be mocked.
Jesus was not supported by a group of fellow Christians as I was. Jesus had no back muscle and padding to bear the wight of the cross as I did. My bar was smooth and cool whereas the cross was rugged wood slammed onto His back. His feet were bare and made to walk the dirty road to Golgotha whereas I was dressed for the impact of the road with a padded shoe. I knew at the end of my walk, I could throw the weight down and celebrate a work-out that honored my Lord and Savior. Jesus knew His road ended with nail-driven hands and feet, a pierced side, suffocating conditions of hanging by His pierced hands, and the mockery of the crowds. Jesus faced death at the end of His road.
Jesus never gave up, cried for the Roman's mercy, tried to run away or regret His fate. Jesus endured all that awful, agonizing, tormentful pain ........... for me. For you.
When I hold my son, I try to imagine Mary and Jospeh holding baby Jesus knowing who He was going to become while basking in the innocence of His infancy.
I've also tried to imagine the pain of Jesus' final days before His last breath, and I cannot do the emotion any justice in my little mind. With all that said, I know one thing is for sure, and I will embrace the emotion of it as if my life depended upon my grip ........ I love Jesus. I love His sacrifice. I love His legacy. I love His life.
Jesus ...... I love you!!!!!!
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