Friday, April 02, 2010

The Last Supper

Today is Friday, Good Friday, which means that it all started last night. On a Thursday, he broke bread and poured wine and explained how his body would be broken and his blood would be spilled. He washed their feet. He walked out to pray, alone; "and being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." Judas arrived and kissed him.
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Today, he was beaten; it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer. It was planned before the beginning of time. He hung and died; he cried out in a loud voice, he said "It is finished." The LORD had laid on him the iniquities of us all -all of our ugliness, all of our darkness- and in one sublime moment, the price was paid. He scorned its shame and sat down at the right hand of God.
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My son does not understand all of this. That a meal could represent the moment when the God of the universe had nails driven through his hands and feet, that a meal could be anything at all other than us sitting around our yellow table, this is something I cannot explain. But what I can explain, I do. And I remember the moment -and praise God for it, and tremble when I think of it- that we talked about the crucifixion, and then about the empty tomb. And I said "And why did Jesus come back to life?" and he looked at me with a mix of astonishment and wonder and said "Because he's God." That moment, when he suddenly realized that Jesus, whose cartooned image was covered in bruises and cuts, was one and the same as the God on page one who, with merely a word, created light in darkness; that it was God himself who offered himself in our place - how can this sentence even end? What words can do it justice? We sat together bent over a picture Bible while the angels rejoiced in Heaven.
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It bears repeating; it should be said a thousand times: Jesus, who died on the cross, he is God Almighty. He is strong, he is good; his love is incomprehensible, it's wide and long and high and deep, it's fierce and unrelenting. It is beyond understanding and yet not beyond reach of a two year old. My heart, it melts within me; that's my God, that's my God.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Jenny, you should write a book about raising Godly kids. I think when Megan and I have our children I will be calling you for help.

Brian

The Goodfellas said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
The Goodfellas said...

dear brian,
you are kind, but i know nothing. :) here's a thought i do have, though. i think that sharing the gospel with a child is a lot like being a missionary sharing to some unreached tribe in the jungle. you wait for the day when you have enough words in common to speak - and then when that day comes, there is so much to tell beforehand so that the story of Christ makes sense. and i think that God helps you know when and how to talk about him - what words to use, what stories to tell, when your kid is ready. i say i know nothing because i think that lucas understanding so much is no mark of success on my part. he makes himself known on his own terms, you know? in different ways, at different times. i don't think i'm better at raising kids than somebody else who's 6 year old doesn't understand, you know what i'm saying? but then again, i think that kids' hearts are so very soft, so very able to perceive him -by nature filled with child-like faith- that it's best to assume that they can. you know? like romans 1:28 - it says people didn't see fit to "retain a knowledge of him." i think that kids innately know him, remember him. with flaco, i am blessed with his speaking to know this about him. he has seen angels - i know that! i know because he's told me, but i wonder how many other kids have, and just can't say? how much of the invisible is obvious to them? i don't know. either way, it's an awesome, awesome task. in the antiquated meaning of the word.

Brandee said...

I know what you mean about them innately knowing God. At very young ages both kids just knew Jesus before I ever even spoke of him. Just the other day Avery and I were watching a cartoon about Jesus and Alia stopped eating snack and looked up and I said, "look Alia, it's Jesus! Where is Jesus?" She pointed in a totally different direction than the tv and smiled. I KNOW she sensed him or saw him. I only wish I had that ability. Avery was always the same way at that age.