This week I’ve been writing Chapter 10 of my new book, Wrestling with Wonder, about the arrest, beating, and sentencing of Jesus. As I’ve been writing, I’ve been thinking about who I am in the Easter story.
And I’ve discovered that I am many people in the story:
--I am Judas, who betrays him with a kiss. I say I love him, but then I don’t represent him as I should. My actions, my sin, take him to the cross. He loves me anyway.
--I am Peter, who claims he doesn’t know Jesus because he’s afraid. He loves God, but he succumbs to peer pressure. Jesus forgives him, restores him, makes him whole.
--I am Barabbas, a sinner set free when Jesus is condemned. I don’t deserve it. I can’t hardly believe it, but all my sins are forgiven and I am free of all that binds me because Jesus, in his innocence, is sentenced to die for me.
--I am Mary, kneeling in sorrow at the foot of the cross, unable to grasp the depth of what it means that the Messiah hangs there. Not knowing that in this darkest hour I am being transformed and God’s will is being done.
--I am the thief, asking Jesus to remember me when he gets to his Kingdom.
--I am the soldier, whispering in awe, “Surely this is the Son of God.”
--I am his disciple, waiting, wondering ... trembling with fear and wonder as the whole world is changed in a single moment, as darkness covers the sky, as the curtain is torn is two forever, as I am redeemed.
I am his. May I never forget the wonder of what he did for me . . .