I was reading Luke 22 this morning, and it is about Jesus’ betrayal and trial before the high priest. I’m fairly desensitized to violence as a former perpetrator of it through fighting and as an avid fan of watching it in MMA and the very good man movies I enjoy on WWII and good crushing evil type stuff. So the feeling I get from reading this text, always, takes me off guard. It is uncomfortable. It is hard to read. This time, as I’m reading, the thought occurs to me that the uncomfortable feeling is because of my sin. It’s my punishment he is taking yet he takes it for me. Isaiah is right; he was wounded for my transgressions. The chastisement that brought me peace was upon him and by his stripes I am healed. I, like a sheep, have gone astray; I have gone my own way, and God has laid on him my iniquity.
All I have to bring to the table is, “thank you”, you are worthy to receiver honor, glory and great praise.
Help me to be holy as you are holy. I can’t earn that. My righteousness is dirty rags. My prayer of confession and repentance is that when I fail, that he applies to me his never-ending righteousness and continue to take my sin, for in him do I trust. Glory to God for his acceptance in the Son revealed and proclaimed by the Spirit.