There was a man who was born under intriguing circumstances and for most of his years lived a common life with uncommon insight and passion. Then he began more widely sharing his teaching with anyone who would listen. Word spread, and people began traveling for miles just in order to hear what he had to say. Some of them did so simply so they could say they’d seen the current newsmaker. Some of them were more than curious, and followed him from place to place. For more than a few it got to be too much and they returned home to the comfortable and familiar. There were those, however, who took his words to heart. Those lives, the lives of those who took his words to heart, were changed whether they tramped up and down a few miles of the middle east with him; or lived out their lives in cities or towns or the countryside; or became international travelers.

And then there were those who heard him and hated him. They didn’t just hate his teaching. They hated him. They hated him enough to put him through a mockery of a trial and crucify him. They hated him enough to hunt down people who had followed him and continued to share about him even after he’d been killed, in part, as a result of mob hysteria and a powerful nation. Curious, isn’t it, how hate can travel not just miles but years?

But the truth remains: He died for you. For your redemption from the horrors of hell. For your free welcome to heaven. Your choice.

This Friday is Good Friday, the day we remember Jesus’ crucifixion. And Sunday? Maybe you can look that one up yourself.

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Frozen citizens of winter past;                                                                                               A nation’s pain in annexed fright;                                                                                      Each life in history’s long march                                                                                          All come to One on this dark night.

On this dark night. On this night we remember what Christ has done for us. We remember His bravery, His courage, His sacrifice. We remember our sin. We remember the cross. Jesus loved life. He showed it in many encounters and countless ways. No doubt He played games with his friends while he was growing up. He appreciated a great meal and a good night’s sleep.

He laughed with little children and held them on His lap.

He didn’t want people to suffer: to suffer with sickness or pain or demon possession or hypocrisy or hunger. Or death. He healed many of them.

He encouraged those around Him to have faith – even a little unwavering faith. He taught thousands of people about what God is like and what the kingdom of heaven is like and what honoring the heavenly Father looks like.

And because He loved life, He lived it in such a way that there was nothing hidden, no deceit, no political correctness, no schmoozing. He was just Himself. He always spoke the truth, even when it offended someone. He had rich friends and He had poor friends. And He had enemies who didn’t like Him.   Jesus loved life. He experienced a lot of rejection and a lot of sorrow. But He still lived. And loved.

And here we are. And it’s Good Friday. Jesus loved life. He didn’t want to die. But He did. For you.

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