As I enter this annual reminder of the final week of Jesus' life...his trial, crucifixion, death, burial and resurrection...I am struck by the overwhelming sense of how much I didn't deserve this.
The holy Jesus died for unholy Matt Proctor. I'm a misfit--a tangled mess of shame, weakness, and disappointment. From time to time, I find success. From time to time, I feel "king of the hill." But then reality hits: I am a broken man. I'm not the husband, father, pastor, leader, citizen, or friend I want to be.
This is not a week for the super spiritual, holier than thou, religious superstars. It's a weak for sinners to be reminded again of a loving Savior. There was nothing in us to woo God to die for us. There was nothing in us to impress or incline God to suffer for us. It was what was in God that changed the world. His love. His mighty, manly, win his bride at all cost, love that compelled Jesus to die for me. I was a damsel in distress, controlled by dark powers, unable to effect my release, and the LORD God delivered me.
Thank you for this Holy Week...thank you for the reminder that unholy people can have hope.