The flesh that God has worn is ragged and torn. This is the reality of Good Friday, one we contemplate during the sacrament of Communion.
When we share in Christ by taking communion, we do so in response to his invitation to remember his death. It is a moment for us to stop and tremble. We’ve turned our back on Christ. We’ve been so enthralled with our pursuits; we haven’t spent time well. We made self-centered decisions. We gaze at our Savior and realize that this whole week Christ has had his sight on me. Here at the Table, I dare to see his body torn and bleeding. I acknowledge my guilt and feel ashamed as I bow my head, close my eyes, and begin to pray. Astonishingly, I see his loving gaze. He is looking at me. His eyes are full of love.
His love is all I want.
May we respond as John Donne imagines:
Do whatever must be done and I’ll look to you.
Burne off my rusts, and my deformity,
Restore thine Image so much by Thy grace,
That Thou may’st know mee, and I’ll turne my face.[1]
We are at the mercy of our Savior’s pierced hands, knowing that only Christ can purify and lead us to our final goal—the vision of God. Out of deep gratitude to the Lord who loves us even though we deserve only reprimand and condemnation, we ask him to purify us. Burn off the rust. Restore the goodness of the imago Dei. The best we can do is to turn back to Jesus and keep looking into those eyes of love.
As we wait with confident expectation to see him who is the essence of Love and know him to the full extent of our glorified being, we understand that we are fully known and fully loved. Paul says in I Corinthians 13:12: “…then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” Turn your eyes to Jesus.
[1] “Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward” lines 37-42. The Complete Poetry and Selected Prose of John Donne, ed. Charles M. Coffin. The Modern Library, New York. p. 258.
The content of this post is from All Creation Sings by Luann Budd.