Pilate

"Because of his sovereign love, the worst of days is now called good."  Louie Giglio

Today is Good Friday.  My prayer is that you will not rush too quickly past it. 

 

I love being a finisher and I love a good ending.  I like the last brush strokes of a painting job the best.  I like savoring the last few pages of great book, enjoying the final moments of a play when all the threads of a story weave together in a beautiful ending.  For the faith-filled believer, Easter morning is the ultimate good of all the good endings.  The risen Christ provides life for us, brings meaning to our living and is our only hope of salvation. 

 

But this is the Friday before.  To call it “good” seems to be at the same time, both terribly wrong, and also the truest, most spectacular understatement.  There is a need for all of us to rest here awhile.  To feel the weight of the death so we might better appreciate the glory of the resurrection.

I have been reading the story of the cross as if it is the first time, digging into the gospel accounts, imagining myself there.  I see Jesus at the last supper, knowing the appointed time is near (Matt. 26:18).  He is here, investing in the disciples, still answering questions, encouraging them with his words and actions.  I can’t move past this picture of Jesus, Lamb of God, seated so casually at the dinner table.  I know what’s coming.  Judas betrays him next, and my heart breaks at this and it begs the question:  How can you have looked in the eyes of Christ, felt his love, witnessed the miracles, heard the words of life and truth first-hand, and trade it for thirty pieces of silver?

And I wonder, am I Judas?  I profess my love for Jesus and follow closely, but with His call heavy and hard on my heart how often do I choose the easy road, choose comfort, and choose silver?

Next I see Jesus in the garden, anguished, and yet fully surrendered to the purpose and plan of the Father.  He pleads with the disciples, his closest of friends, to stay awake, to pray.  The Messiah knows these men need God’s help.  They mean well, these faithful followers of his, but oh, how the flesh is weak (Matt. 26:41).  They believe. They feel ready to follow Jesus anywhere he leads.  But when faced with his attackers, they desert Jesus and run away.

I want to believe I would stand firm.  But I have to ask it:  How well do I prepare in the garden?  Do I fall asleep too, forgetting that there is an enemy who has his sights set on my life, my marriage, my children and my ministry?

The journey to the cross now brings me to Pilate.  Tragically, he desires to please the people more than he is committed to doing the right thing.  He tries so hard to avoid dealing with Jesus, sending him to Herod, offering the crowd Barabbas instead, challenging the people with the innocence of Christ, and then finally washing his hands of him altogether. But avoid Jesus?  He cannot.

Neither can we.

Here I find my place in the story, and I find yours too.  Here, we all must pause this Good Friday to consider the question of Pilate:

“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called Christ?” Matt 27:22

This is the question we all must ask, and the one we all must answer.

 

Nothing is more significant.  I believe Jesus is exactly who scripture says he is.  Our great God and Saviour (Titus 2:13), Immanuel, God with us (Matt. 1:23), the Messiah, the Son of the living God (Matt. 16:16), Saviour (Luke 19:10), the Resurrection and the Life (John 11:25).  Jesus died under the weight of our sin, in our place, so that we can live forever with him.  It is the most precious of gifts and it requires a response.  A life surrendered, a longing to grow and to impact the world around us.

Today, because of Jesus, I am forgiven, free, hopeful, grateful, alive.