And the Blood Continues to Flow

"He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth." Isaiah 53:7

As I reflect on this week and prepare for Maundy Thursday night services, I penned the following: He had lived a great portion of his life in relative obscurity, a hard-working carpenter from Galilee. He had been to the Temple in Jerusalem for Passover observances in the past, and had impressed the Jewish religious elite with his knowledge, wisdom and intellect, far beyond his years. As a youth, however, He was not a threat. When He started his ministry, things changed. He became a very real threat to the Jewish religious establishment, not only to the legalistic doctrine and ritual of the day, but to their financial security as well, as the “fees” paid by Jews to participate in the Passover sacrificial activities lined the pockets of Jewish religious leaders. So they followed Him; they spied on Him; indeed, they stalked Him, all the while waiting for that one slip up where He would claim He was God, blasphemy punishable by death.

It all ended during an annual Passover celebration more than 2,000 years ago. Jesus had to know that this week would be different. He, with his small group of friends and followers we now call apostles, stayed at the home of Lazarus in Bethany, about a 40-minute walk to Jerusalem. He commuted each day to the Temple. His challenge to the religious establishment of the day had struck a chord with the populous and, during this week, with the Jewish pilgrims who had traveled to Jerusalem. They welcomed Him as a King, spreading branches in the path of the donkey on which he rode. And the crowds were swelling, causing disruption and dissent. For the Jewish religious leaders, this was enough. The “power of the people” placed them in great fear. They bribed a follower, who happened to be the group’s treasurer, and He was falsely arrested. He was beaten and, at the urging of the Jewish leaders, the Roman Governor ordered 40 lashes to “teach Him a lesson.” And as those tortuous shards of metal rhythmically and repeatedly ripped open his flesh, tore into his muscle and exposed His bone, what was to be an ending for the Jewish elite was in fact a beginning. He began to shed his blood for us. Then, mocking him as a King, they placed a crown made of one-inch long thorns which penetrated deeply into his skull, and the blood continued to flow. After a “trial”, where jury tampering was at its height, they sentenced him to die, sparing a murderer in the process. Frankly, He was just about dead already, so much so that a pilgrim from northern Africa named Simon helped Him on his death march. Imagine the eye contact between the two. Imagine Jesus’ blood flowing on Simon.

The march was to end on a hill outside the city, the same mount where Abraham was told to sacrifice his son centuries earlier. Upon arrival, the Roman execution squad hung him on a cross, and the blood continued to flow. And when the spear pierced His heart, His last ounce of blood flowed for us. And an earthquake ensued, and the solid gold curtain in the Temple which had separated Jew from Gentile was forever torn in two. Three days later His physical body would miraculously rise. To this day, His broken, dead body has never been found. Instead, He appeared to His followers, particularly one doubter, and several hundred others, and then His Father took him home. On this Thursday and Friday, think of the gift of His blood that flowed for us; think of how that gift is free and that, once we acknowledge the saving sacrifice of the cross, we accept that gift. I fast from solid food on Good Friday until sundown. I have done so for many years. I do so on that day so that, as I experience mild discomfort in my stomach as it growls for food, I am reminded of the excruciating pain, suffering and agony endured for me a long time ago. But, most of all, I picture the flow of the blood (like a lamb to the slaughter), the gift of blood that cleanses all of us from our frail, sinful humanity.

And the blood continues to flow,
Gerry Mouzis

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