As you look at this picture, do you see beyond the torn skin? Do you imagine how painful the day has been for this man? Do you marvel at this accomplishment? Does it frighten? Is it so unsettling that you had to turn away from it? Perhaps one, two or all of these emotions and more jolted your inner being.
This man has ended his journey. Yet his journey is so intimately related to you, to me ... to every human being that has ever lived. Every journey concludes with two realizations: the first is that the journey has been more than an experience in traveling; it has been an inward journey, traveling deep within your heart, my heart. Perhaps it has been a journey so deeply inward that you could have become frightened. Perhaps it has been a journey that has made you more aware than ever before that the end of this man's journey is but what all journeys are ... a transformation. This man's journey ended with the beginning of your journey, my journey. Has this thought evolved in your musings?
From Greek and Latin literature and even St. Paul's writings we are taught that the hero is crowed with a laurel wreath when he/she "crosses the finish line." This man in the picture is you in his life. His laurel wreathe crown is what you and I should want to guarantee because the beginning of our journey is restoration. Even as we begin our life's journey we are restored by every ounce of blood that was poured out of this man's body. Our journey is anointed from the very beginning by the sweat that burned his eyes as he walked to his final moments, his Crucifixion.
This man was no slouch. This man was no true criminal. This man was simply Jesus, a brother, a savior, a redeemer. This man was a victim because humankind turned on his Father. This man was a loyal son because he accepted an invitation to die for you and me. Again, this man was simply Jesus, a brother, a friend in need, one who would walk a mile with you or me. Simply, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. And, hopefully, on your journey your familiarity and affection for this man has grown just as his name has in the last sentence.
Return to the picture. Let your heart be still. Return to the thought of the Shakespeare quote from yesterday's reflection: " ... journeys end in lovers meeting." May the picture of this man in his final moments of agony never allow you or me to forget how blessed our life journeys are because Jesus loves you and you see how real that love is for you. This man is Jesus. This man is Jesus the God who loves you beyond anything you or I can imagine.
Don't overlook the words in the gospel for today: "I AM." He is not the God who "WAS" nor the God who "WILL BE." He is the ever present lover for you and me. Don't lose the grasp of his hand.
