Thursday evening, late.
Wine blushed in their cups as they ate the special Passover meal, their last dinner together. Jesus longed to share it with them, He said.
His arms outstretched, the cup lifted up.
“I make a new covenant with you in my blood poured out for you.”
Blood poured out to get to God. They’ve heard of this sacrifice before.
1800 B.C. “Here’s the wood, but where’s the sacrifice?”
The boy Isaacs’s question on Mount Moriah haunted their stories for generations.
“God Himself will provide a lamb,” Father Abraham answered, out of faith and nothing more.
Friday morning, early. Here’s the wood. Blood-soaked crossbeams.
From a safe distance, the disciples watch the Passover Lamb stretched out on Mount Moriah, now Jerusalem. Same place, centuries apart.
They realize at last, the Lamb had been with them all along.
Forgiveness and mercy pour out, pooled from the One they love
Who loved them even more.
To pay a price this scandalous makes no sense, except for love.
Here, too, is the wood. The bridge to get to God.
The Lamb of God stretched out from us to God.
On a good Friday morning,
He paid the price for an eternity with Him.
Tomorrow: One on one with Jesus at dinner