“But God commendeth His own love toward us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)
God’s love is a merciless scourging that cuts long lines deep in the back. It is a scalp pierced by sharp thorns in a ring of pain around the brow. It is brisk blows to the drooping head with a stiff reed, intensifying the torture of the crown of thorns. And it is sudden spit in the face, dripping with cold contempt
God’s love is mockery, taunting humiliation; it is jeering and laughing and raucous salutes to a yielded victim already beaten almost to death.
His love is the thudding of a heavy mallet pounding spikes through a shepherd’s soft palms, tearing flesh and tendons, pinioning feet and hands to a rough beam.
His love is labored breathing, deep sighs of exhaustion, flowing blood and tears, forsaken. It is an enveloping darkness, a shuddering earth, splitting rocks, and tombs broken open. It is the sound of a great curtain in a holy place being ripped in two from top to bottom, and the horrified gasps of priestly witnesses.
Divine love is a final loud cry, echoing in the black sky. It is heart-stopping death that completes the terrible sacrifice of the Lamb of God.
By James 0. Dobbs