Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Last Supper with a Friend

I read the accounts of the Last Supper from the different gospels last week.  As I did, I began to tear up.  I had a glimpse into that moment.  My heart was with Him.

I imagined sitting with my friend, the most gentle and kind person I've ever known.  I imagined this person offering me everything.  Offering me ordinary items that I had partaken of many times, items that would come to mean so much more.  This time it was different.  This time we knew we wouldn't be together long.  This time I knew my precious, tender friend would pay the ultimate price for me.

I should be grateful.  I should be filled with awe.  Instead I was just so sad.  I didn't want to lose my friend.  It was all so unfair.  Even with all I'd seen, I didn't understand.

And I don't understand.  The atonement is such an incredible miracle.  Such a gift of ultimate tenderness and love.  A gift from a friend.  It has saved me so many times.  It has healed me.  When I've been a victim.  When I've messed up.  When I've hurt and not understood the pain.

I do not understand.  But I am grateful.  And I miss my friend.

3 comments:

  1. It is a wonderful thing ... a thing that makes me wonder too. I wonder too if I would have had the faith to do as Mary did, to save a box of ointment worth a year's wages to demonstrate my support for his death. I think I might have wanted to cling longer, to ask him to wait. I think about that sometimes when it's time to give something up. Something greater is out there. I trust that better now. Because of him.

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  2. I don't understand it either. I don't deserve that kind of friendship - but I am so glad He offers it to me. I would not want to live without it!

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  3. I gave up trying to understand it so long ago. For such a long time, I tried to logically explain Jesus, his deity, his works, his miracles, ALL OF IT, to myself. I tried to explain it to my brain in a way that made sense.

    But some of it, I just could not come to a logical conclusion without twisting the Scriptures to fit my thinking. So, I realized, I am not to twist the Scriptures to my thoughts, but rather twist my thoughts to the Scriptures. Surrendering to the idea of NOT knowing or understanding was strangely freeing.

    I get what you're doing. Every Christmas I think of Mary, how she felt being 9 months pregnant with her first child, a new mother, scared to death. Riding on a donkey no less. Without any hope for an epidural. Oy.

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