Who Do You Say I Am?

“Jesus said to him, 'I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'” – John 14:6, ESV

Hello Dear Friend,

Yesterday was Good Friday and I’m reminded of one evening years ago when I was pretty irritated thinking about how Jesus is most often portrayed to the world. I'm well aware that most of the world only sees Jesus as He was on what we now call Good Friday over two thousand years ago in one moment of His life. It’s the only image that seems to be seen over the internet, in movies, described in books and also seems to be the one image that countless artists have attempted to either paint or draw. It’s the image of Jesus hanging on the cross moments before His death. What’s sad is that in today’s world just about everyone has seen some variation of the image I just described but few understand what is truly represented in that one captured Jesus moment.

After what I've just described, you’ve got to show at least a little bit of grace to those who don’t follow Christ. Put yourself in their shoes and look at it through those lenses. Based on their viewpoint they're missing the context we with Christian faith have. It isn’t hard to see why they continuously reject Him and why some would even say Christianity is just a cult. The Jesus that the world has taught us to see is a mockery. Society has painted a picture that Jesus was this skinny, sickly, depressed, dirty, flogged, broken, weak, and altogether – defeated man who was covered in His own blood. When that's the only Jesus you’ve been shown can you really blame them for begging the question, “That's no king. That is a weak, broken, defeated man. Why would I ever want to follow that?”

Now if that was the only image I knew of Jesus and I didn’t know or understand the story leading up to that iconic moment in history describing His brutal death I'll be honest, I probably wouldn’t want to follow Him either. Like so many others, I too would be holding up my hand, shaking my head and responding in a definite tone to those handing out tracts, “No, thanks! I’m good.” Refusing their message as well.

But thankfully, that is NOT my Jesus.

No, my Jesus most likely had well distinguished muscles, was fully toned and covered in calluses from all the years working alongside Joseph as a carpenter’s son. Yet His touch was probably the softest touch people had ever felt because He had God’s love pulsing through His veins. I also imagine that at times His appearance looked a bit rough. His face was probably wind burned and lips chapped. He was probably sporting some unruly hair most of the time and had dust covering His feet and calves from all the walking He did to reach the different towns and cities He visited. Most likely, with every step He took, more and more mud got caked to His clothing and stained the hem of His garments.

My Jesus probably had crow’s feet developing around His rather young eyes from all the times spent participating in joyful gatherings, from all the laughter that spilled out of Him as He watched children playing and running around Him and from all the smiles that came from enjoying the company of those closest to Him. He was a kind and a beloved son, brother, teacher and friend. He showed mercy to those often cast aside. He was affectionate, offering hugs and greeting people with a kiss. He had a certain gentleness about Him as He taught and encouraged others. He celebrated with friends joining in their joys and mourned with them shedding tears and feeling the same pains of those He called His closest friends.

My Jesus became an outlaw and was run out of His hometown as well as other cities when He loudly spoke of the need to repent of your sins and to love one another. As He spoke the words of God His Father, and preformed miraculous works in the name of God, He fulfilled prophecies that defiled influential priests, rulers, and leaders of His day. He spoke with authority that cast out demons and healed the sick. Later He was caught, shackled, wrongfully accused, and handed over as a criminal.

My Jesus, was innocent, pure, and blameless and yet He traded His crown for a crown made out of thorns and instead of picking up a weapon He picked up my cross. Bruised and beaten He stumbled under the weight of my burdens and my chains as He walked that long road of grief up the hill of Golgotha. He was stretched out in pain and agony and hung on that cross for bystanders to watch and mock Him as He was helplessly dying.

My Jesus willing gave Himself as the sacrificial Lamb of God, becoming the One true Savior to the world. that right there would be more than enough but my Jesus went even further and became so much more than my Savior.

My Jesus is the Son of the living God. My Jesus is the King of kings and Lord of lords – ruler over everything. My Jesus is a counselor. My Jesus is everlasting peace. My Jesus is a comforter and brings hope to the hopeless and rest to the weary. My Jesus is the great physician and ultimate healer. My Jesus performs miracles. My Jesus raises people from the dead. My Jesus is a father to the fatherless. My Jesus is closer than a brother. My Jesus gives love like you’ve never know. My Jesus is the best friend you’ll ever have. My Jesus is the only one who can offer everlasting life – because my Jesus wasn’t defeated by death. My Jesus was resurrected and He lives, now seated on His throne in Heaven.

So as I was pondering all this in my bedroom that night and was getting more and more frustrated at the world for the way that society, Hollywood and the like have portrayed Jesus out of context. Thinking about how they don’t know my Jesus and they don’t know the real story. I had a God moment. In the stillness of that night the Holy Spirit gently revealed a revelation. This was nothing new to me but in that moment my spirit needed to hear these words as they came out loud and clear…

“That moment – the one where I looked helpless, dirty, depressed, sick, beaten, broken, weak, and defeated – In that moment, I became a reflection of you. That image is a reflection of you and what you looked like before you came to know me.”

It was in that moment when Jesus hung on the cross, drew his last breath and bore the weight of my sins while taking on all the pain and ugliness of what I used to be that He became the hero of my soul. THAT IS my Jesus.

With love,

a Poetic Soul