Love Story

Rebecca and I missed the first four weeks of watching the Bible, the series on the History Channel. Lots of people in our community have been watching it, following it pretty closely and I'm not really sure what kept us from starting at the beginning.  We caught up pretty quickly though, thanks to On Demand and the marathon that ran this weekend.  The last episode is starting in a moment and we're both anxious to see the finale, if you can really it call it that.

Yeah, yeah, she and I both know how it ends.  That's not the point though, now is it?  Or maybe that is the point?  This story, this gift, given to me - to all of us - never fails to capture me.  The events leading up to the Crucifixion were intricate and detailed - nothing that happened lacked any type of significance at all.  Every word spoken, every interaction, every movement had a meaning and a purpose.  As I grow older the more I understand that and the more it affects me. 

The older I get the more I understand the sacrifice of Christ.  It hits me emotionally as well as physically and at times it's almost too much to witness whether visually, spoken, or in the written word.  I remind myself though that this sacrifice was for me and I don't turn away.  I stay transfixed and let the feelings and emotions wash over me, sink into me.  There is so much... such a mix of pain and grief that gives way to an overwhelming feeling of shame - shame because my sins, all our sins, required Christ's torture and death.  I get chill bumps and find myself holding my breath.  Then, I cry.

That's not the end though, as we all know...

Easter - the celebration of the Resurrection - washes all that pain and grief and shame away.  All that gets replaced with gratitude, and hope, and love - this incredible, extraordinary, glorious, wondrous love. 

In our church sanctuary we have a banner that hangs to the left of the congregation and the right of the pulpit.  It's comprised of three large letters, sewn together and hung from a rod.  The cloth is a deep red and the letters are trimmed in a gold braided rope.   A lady in the congregation made it many years ago and it's hung in the sanctuary ever since.  On the day Lent begins, however, the banner gets taken down and remains hidden and out of sight until Easter morning.  When I entered the sanctuary this morning, like every Easter morning, my eyes immediately fix upon the banner - the JOY banner.  What a beautiful expression of the gift of Jesus!  Is there a greater story of love?