Sometimes in the familiarity of something we talk a lot about I sometimes I miss my face in crowd. This morning I was struck by the sheer obscenity of the cross--the excruciating pain of it--and the faces in the crowd.
For instance, when the soldiers come to arrest Jesus (John 18:10) Peter tries to kill the one of the guy and ends up cutting off the right ear of the soldier--his name is Malchus. Malchus got his ear healed by the one he came to arrest (Luke 22:51). I've been opposed to Jesus and healed by him on the same day too. I am Malchus.
And then Peter denies ever knowing Jesus publicly (v. 18). One moment he's seemingly heroic, the next--he's a coward. How cold must that warm fire have felt in that moment? I've known cold moments like that. I am Peter.
The Pharisees take Jesus to Pilate to get him killed but don't go into the headquarters for fear of being defiled and unable to eat Passover. How utterly blind to miss the whole point of Passover--that Jesus is lamb. I'm blind like that too.
When Jesus is bleeding and dying on the cross the soldiers value only his tunic and cast lots for it. A seemless garment. That's what was of value. Wow. Somebody took home the garment of Jesus and left him dying on the cross. I've been that guy. Well...really...I am that guy being healed by the One who both died on that tree for me and rose again.
Somebody said "familiarity breeds contempt." Finding my face accurately in the crowd helps me to be amazed by this Jesus who demonstrated excruciating love for me to bring me to God (1 Peter 3:18).
