Broken

Good Friday. Terrible... wretched... awful... glorious... gracious... Good Friday.

How can we bear to contemplate what the Savior endured on this day? This horrific, wonderful day.

Broken. For you. For me. Broken Savior. Broken body. Broken fellowship with His Heavenly Father. Broken righteousness and perfection and purity, as He bore the filth and sin and despair and darkness of a fallen world, a depraved humanity. Broken relationships with those He loved. Broken disciples devoid of futures, devoid of all dreams. Broken world as the darkness descended and the hope vanished. Broken temple curtain--torn in two from top to bottom by a relentless Redeemer. Broken rocks as the earthquake split the graves of the dead, preparing for resurrection.

And on that last night with His disciples, that last supper before this griveous Good Friday, "the Lord Jesus on the same night He was betrayed, took bread; and after He had given thanks, He broke it and said, 'Take eat; this is My body which is broken for you; do this in remembrance of Me.'" (I Cor.11:23-24)

We remember Lord. We remember the broken body, the broken heart, the broken side, the broken forehead, the broken fellowship, the broken dignity. We remember, and we grieve over our sin that required Your brokenness. But we also rejoice at Your brokenness that made us whole.

Just this morning, I saw this little broken egg in our driveway. The broken bright blue egg of a Robin. The egg the color of God's spacious, beautiful sky and His life-sustaining, powerful water and seas. A tiny, fragile broken egg... broken that new life might emerge.

We always love the colorful, perfect, decorated Easter eggs... and speak of how they are a symbol of spring and new life. How I love dying those eggs with my children, filling those rainbow-colored eggs for Easter egg hunts, decorating the house with those cheerful eggs.

But really, the whole, intact egg merely possesses the potential for life. It isn't until the egg is broken, shattered, that new life can truly be formed and realized and enjoyed. There is no new chirping baby robin until it's perfect blue egg is broken. Broken and marred and destroyed.

And so this Good Friday, we thank the One who was broken for us, and Whose brokenness brings us abundant, eternal LIFE. With every pound of the nails into His flesh, it was my selfishness, my pride, my lust, my greediness, my impatience, my worry, my gossip, my impatience, my faithlessness that was driven into His perfect, whole body.

And with every hammer blow, His body was broken... and mine--my undeserving, unworthy, unrighteous, unloving one--was made whole. And given new hope, new righteousness, new glory, new peace, new joy, new future, new love... NEW LIFE. Forever and ever and ever. No one and nothing can ever ever ever snatch me, as His graciously redeemed and restored child, from His nail-pierced, broken, beautiful hands.

Thank You Lord Jesus for Your brokenness that made us whole. Might we never tire of remembering and rejoicing at Your grace and Your gift of new life through brokenness. Help the world to see You--bleeding, battered, bruised, bearing all sin--and understand that Your brokenness was so that every man, woman, and child might enjoy new life, salvation's wholeness, for eternity. So many do not know or do not accept this gift, Lord and so go through life and into eternity, broken and lost and hopeless. Might this be the day they truly see and make You their Savior, their Broken-for-the-world Redeemer. And for all who know You as Savior, help us to reflect and remember and rejoice in Your brokenness on this glorious Good Friday. Might we "ponder anew what the Almighty can do" and go out and live our new life in You with joy and obedience and freedom and faith.

To our Broken, Beautiful, Blessed Savior, be all the glory forever and ever.