A single moment of doubt. A single ear heeding the voice of deception. A single instant savouring the sickly-sweet juice of defiance.
And sin with all its consequences entered the world.
Fellowship between God and His image-bearers. Severed.
Bond between husband and wife. Parent and child. Strained.
Every human relationship. Ruined.
For thousands of years, creation groaned. The world was filled with darkness. Slavery. Infanticide. Patriarchy. Greed. Theft. Disease.
The list could go on indefinitely. There’s no limit to the depravity that one choice inflicted on our spinning blue planet.
A lifetime of submission culminating in a single moment of obedience.
Not my will, but yours be done.
And sin was conquered, death defeated, the powers of darkness mocked. The serpent’s head was crushed, and our victory secured by a single sacrifice.
Don’t be mistaken. The cross was not an easy path. Crucifixion was excruciating. Humiliating. Devastating.
That Jesus bore in His body the sin and grief of the world astounds us.
That He came to suffer, bleed, and die in our place humbles our souls.
That our mending comes with such an act of violence baffles the mind.
Mending may seem too insignificant a word to contain the totality of Jesus’s finished work on the cross.
And yet it invokes the image of a God willing to empty Himself of His divinity and confine His greatness into a frail human body.
A Servant humble enough to be born into a family so poor, they could only offer the smallest sacrifice to celebrate His arrival.
A Saviour who threw aside the cultural and religious expectations of the day to lovingly embrace lepers, women, Gentiles, and the demoniac.
A King whose reign works reconciliation into every facet of the Kingdom.
The price for our mending was high. And yet for the joy that was set before Him, He willingly embraced this ordeal.
I’m thankful for my Jesus who saves.
Who binds up.
Who, with gentle prompting and grace-soaked entreaty, mends us into wholeness.