Relics And Reality

“And whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.”
Matthew 20:27-28

Jesus came to serve. From his earliest days until his last, the God-Man was serving.

I see him tending to his chores without complaint, always giving more than was required. I see the young man carrying the brunt of the hard labor that his step-father was no longer able to manage due to age and health, all the while whistling a tune of the divine that was brought from his Father's own sanctuary of praise, through the incarnation, and into a world that so desperately needed to hear it.

I see a thirty year old man who knows he only has three years left to live, pouring every minute into the lives of others; teaching, healing, praying, touching, encouraging, embracing. I see him weeping for the deep need of his homeland and his countrymen. I see him grieving at the loss of a friend.

His hands - always outstretched, touching one more leper, gathering up one more child, feeling one more withered limb. His feet - dirty, calloused, and always moving. Up and down the roads of Judea. Answering the call of needy friends, acquaintances and strangers, and only delaying when His Father insisted.

Then, I see the ultimate demonstration of service, of selfless service, of unrivaled submission to the will of his Master. I see the cross.

Satan is there too, and he is sick of the serving Jesus. He sees the serving hands and feet nailed securely to beams of wood, and he relishes in the moment. "He came to serve," says the prince of filth, "but there will be no more of that."

And then it happens.

Even with the very instruments of his service pinned to a tree in the most painful and paralyzing manner, the Servant musters up the strength for one final, selfless act. He opens his mouth (Yes, his mouth; for the word of the Lord cannot be contained, controlled or concealed) and speaks the words all of creation has been groaning to hear...

"Father, forgive them."

The cross is not a relic. It is a chilling, searing, living, dying, eternal reminder of the kind of life to which we are called. It is the supreme demonstration of what it means to be a servant.