the entry below is courtesy of Matt Walsh from a couple of years ago. mostly keeping it here to remind myself that my sins are so grave, the Son of God had to die for me...
"I used to read the story of Our Lord’s Passion and come away horrified at the treachery and cowardice of nearly everyone around Jesus. I used to read about those who betrayed and denied and abused and killed Christ and find myself unable to understand them at all. They always seemed so foreign, so shocking. But as I’ve studied the story recently, I’ve begun to see it quite differently. I’ve realized that the most terrifying thing about the treacherous characters of the Passion is not that they are foreign, but that they are deeply and terribly relatable. If I’m being honest, I must admit that I see myself in every act of betrayal and violence inflicted upon Our Lord.
I see that I am Judas. How many time have I betrayed Jesus with a kiss, pledging my fidelity to Him in one moment and then in the next selling Him out for the sake of my sin?
I see that I am Peter. How many times have I denied Jesus in front of the world — perhaps not with my words, but with my deeds? How many times have I tried to blend in with the world, be a part of it, and avoid the suffering and sacrifice that comes with true faith?
I see that I am Pontus Pilate. How many time have I tried to compromise with the world, finding a middle ground between right and wrong, sin and virtue?
I see that I am Herod. How many times have I been vulgar and ridiculous and irreverent? How many times have I treated Christ like a magician or a genie who exists only to perform tricks for me?
I see that I am the crowd that chose Barabbas over Christ. How many times have I looked for a temporal savior, an Earthly salvation, rather than the eternal paradise Our Lord purchased for us?
I see that I am the unrepentant Thief. How many times have I been entirely unwilling to bear my own little cross, even as Christ bears His for my sake? How many times have I looked to Christ in my suffering and demanded, in a tone of anger and accusation, that He rescue me from the consequences of my own actions?
I see that I am the one who scourged Him. I see that I am the one who spit on Him. I see that I am the one who mocked Him. I see that I am the one who nailed Him to the Cross. I see that I am the one who killed Him. I did all of this through my sin. I am not the only one, of course. He carried the guilt of all mankind on His back. He suffered the blows of billions. But my guilt is not diminished by the fact that I am one of many. Christ still looks at me, personally, individually, from the Cross, and says, “You put Me here. And I allowed you to, because I love you.”
We should take great joy in the fact that Our Lord loved us enough to endure all of this on our behalf. We should rejoice in His mercy. But we can’t allow ourselves to ignore the hideousness of our own sin. If we will not face the evil in our hearts, we can never truly repent. If we will not humble ourselves, we will miss the entire point of everything.
Our sins are serious. Serious enough to nail the Son of God to the Cross. To yawn at our own sin is to yawn at the Cross. To gloss over our sin is to gloss over the Cross. So, yes, we should rejoice in His goodness, but we also must weep at our wickedness. It is in this balance that we begin to find the essence of true Christian faith."
I find it odd that the things that we find abhorrent we often find in ourselves, if we turn off the faucet of hypocrisy feeding us. Such as evil men of the past, such as the virtue of loyalty that I dearly cherish and yet find myself tempted at times to just "cut people off", such as simply being as loving as I preach we must be. Yes, sometimes I see I am no better than any of those other men. Of course I am not. I must see this. Because then why would I need Salvation and Grace and Mercy and Love?
ReplyDeleteMB: keturahskorner.blogspot.com
PB: thegirlwhodoesntexist.com