Passion Ponderings

This was my response after watching "The Passion of the Christ" when it first came to theaters.

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My viewing of Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" left me with a deeper, richer understanding of the great price Christ paid to extend salvation to the spiritually dead. A higher appreciation for the sacrifice it took to remove the barriers of sin and grant mankind access to a holy and righteous God.

My post-movie reaction was one of amazement that my Savior would not concede, but CHOOSE to endure such barbarous torture and abuse for the sake of evil-hearted, self-seeking individuals, all of whom are sinners of equal measure, and of whose existence spans every racial, generational, and geographic category; past, present, and future.
The concept that struck me with even greater intensity is that within God's vast and incomprehensible redemptive plan, He saw it pleasing and purposeful to include ME. The passion--or suffering--of Jesus Christ was not merely a result of a cruel injustice that might evoke within the heart of the viewer a sense of compassion or sympathy toward the undeserving victim, but to a recipient and beneficiator of the forgiveness and grace of His shed blood, the passion very personally demonstrates the ultimate act of Christ's sacrificial love.

Yes, it is true that Jesus suffered such physical, emotional, and spiritual affliction in general, on behalf of all mankind and, efficatiously (specifically), to all who will accept Him. Yet it is the responsibility of every believer to realize HIS OWN virtual participation in the process of His death. It was I who hammered the nails into Christ's hands and feet. At the same time, it was also I who became His victorious reward for those same nails.
Every agony He endured--every insult, every mocking, every lashing, every piercing, every step up Calvary's hill--was for me.

Pointing fingers at specific "Christ killers" or generalizing the fault of His death to the whole world certainly holds a sense of credibility. Also, we must recall that Christ's death was in God's redemptive plan long before the foundations of the world. The people who killed Him were actually carrying out God's will, whether they knew it or not! However, by neglecting to personalize the passion of Jesus, I diminish my vicarious presence among them. For them it was a physical act; for me, it was spiritual. MY SIN was inflicting Jesus during those agonizing twelve hours.

I need to spot my form among the merciless Jewish crowd, demanding crucifiction. I need to trace my name carved into His horribly beaten back at the scuring block. And at the foot of the brutal Roman cross, I must force myself to listen for my own voice sneering at the sight of His bloody, broken body.

I was there...no more than anyone else, no less than if I was alone.

Somehow--through the grief and pain that I caused the only begotten Son of Almighty God--it was my very presence fixed to the mind and heart of Jesus that eventually led Him to extend a most precious verbal expression of love, "Father, forgive them...."

The weight of my sins alone should have caused the cross to sink to the deepest dwelling of hell, but before that could happen, Jesus uttered three mighty words, "It is finished!"