He Loves Us, Oh How He Loves Us

"On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood before them. In their fright, the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, 'Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: The Son of Man just be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified, and on the third day be raised again.' Then they remembered his words.

When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mar the mother of James and the others with them who told this to the apostles. But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense."
--Luke 24:1-11

I'm going (regrettably) to try and make this quick because I am dead on my feet. But I don't want to short change this either.

Something is bothering me today. I was talking to a dear friend, and I mentioned how my heart hurt for the fact that Jesus went through everything He did and she responded, "So? People die everyday for people they love. I would die for someone I love in a heartbeat if I had to. He knew what He was getting himself in to. I don't feel bad for Him." And I felt like she completely missed the point. And, once again, discounted the feelings that Jesus assuredly had. Have you ever seen the Passion (yeah, I know, Mel Gibson made it, and we all know where that story goes, but it's a really good movie). It was horrible. During the filming, James Caviezel (who played Jesus), said that the cat-o-nine tails they had missed the board on his back and actually ripped into his flesh. This happened twice. He said it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced, and he couldn't even fathom how Jesus must have felt, how much pain he would have been in to have it tear and rip into his flesh over and over again. In case you don't know what a cat-o-nine tails is (actually, what Jesus endured was actually a Roman flagrum), you should research it more. The Romans embedded the whip with bits of broken glass and nails and sharpened sheep bone. Oh, and don't forget the lead balls. This is what a Roman historian says about the device: EUSABIOUS OF CEASARE, “their bodies were frightfully lacerated. Christian martyrs in Smyrna were so torn by the scourges that their veins were laid bare, and the inner muscles, sinews, even entrails, were exposed”. (Westminster Dictionary of the Bible page 538) . Wow. Just. Wow. I was researching it. Even two lashes could make someone faint from the pain and loss of blood. Jesus most likely endured AT LEAST thirty-nine (thirty-nine was the limit for the Jewish punishment). If the Romans cared at all about the Jewish laws. Which most likely they didn't. And Jesus suffered all of this, not for just one person, or even twelve. This was for all of humanity, past, present and future. This was the sin and all of the anguish, all of the pain, the agony, the angst that Jesus took upon himself single handedly, along with His own, potent human feelings. Take the worst feeling you have ever had and multiply it by infinity, and that's probably how Jesus was feeling.

And yet He endured it, all of it, for us. Wow. Our God is so amazing. There is a song we sing at Trevor's church, and the chorus goes, "He loves us, oh how He loves us."

Stop and think about how true that is. All of this. Endured. For us. For love.


None of this has anything to do with the passage I chose. haha.

I guess I will touch on a brief point then, before bed.

Nobody believed the women. And not just "nobody." The very disciples of Jesus did not believe the women. Talk about doubt. And these were supposedly His strongest followers? I think this is important for a few reasons. One, it kind of disproves any conspiracy theory of the disciples hiding the body. They thought the women were on something. A verse later it mentions that Peter goes back and wonders what has happened once he sees the linen.

Two: It shouldn't, but it makes me feel a little better those times that I doubt God. It happens, and I'm not proud of it, but sometimes it happens. And then I read passages like this, of the strongest godliest men in the Bible doubting, and it assures me a little bit. And, this kind of leads me to......

Three: More evidence that God uses those who are seen by society as the "weakest" to get his point across and to connect personally with, to use them to accomplish great things. Did Jesus appear instantly to Caesar? Or Pilate? Or Herod? Or even his own twelve [men] disciples? No, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene (John 20:10-18), who, for the record, was not a prostitute. That was a story circulated by one of the earlier popes who was misogynistic to discredit women. Unfortunately it has stayed for nearly 1000 years since. But He appeared to a women, in a society where women were not valued, where women were seen as dumb property. He appeared for the very first time after the crucifixion to a woman. *cough* I think God is trying to tell us something. *cough* God uses those who are the weakest to do great things. I am not a great speaker. I am not an amazing evangelist, or even a great worship leader, but I can be used in ways beyond my wildest dreams. I will be used to make a difference, some way, some how. I am weak, but He is strong. And, since I'm relying on His strength, that means it is fully available to me, and I will be able to accomplish things I would never be able to do on my own.

I really don't want to sound hokey right now. And I really don't want people to discredit me for what I say next, but I just want to say it. I am filled with joy when I think about the love God has for me, and for everything that He is. My life is filled with joy, and I get happy randomly just thinking about how awesome God is. I might be having a good day (that's when it's easiest of course) or it might be a bad day for me. But if I'm having a crappy day ,and you tell me to stop and think about it, or I stop to consider it, I realize that it's a surface discontentment. I may be in a bad mood on the surface, but underneath there is joy, and that's my buffer against depression. It seems contradictory, I know, but it isn't. At least not for me.

I am consumed by His love, and tonight I fall asleep meditating on the words from the song.

He loves us. Oh, how He loves us. Oh how He loves us. How He loves us so.

Who else would have done all of this for us?

Happy Easter.