thinking about the cross

A friend shared a story last week that really hit me. She had released a cultivated butterfly into the wild, and within the first 30 seconds it was eaten by a bird. Thirty seconds. It just seemed so unfair. Probably not so much for the fact that birds eat butterflies, but for the unfulfilled potential of that one little creature. Couldn't God have let it fly a little longer?

This Easter, I have been struck by how tragic it is that Jesus died so young. That thought had never occurred to me before, perhaps because I am more often focused on what the cross achieved for me, and the fact that it had to happen that way. Jesus knew he was going to die. That was what he came to earth to do. And he set out resolutely for Jerusalem, intent on fulfilling his purpose.

But when I think about how it must have been for the people who knew and loved Jesus, those who had walked with him and were his friends, I realize it wasn't so obvious to them that it had to be that way, and I start to feel the frustration they must have felt as they watched their Lord led away and crucified. From their perspective, Jesus was just getting started with his ministry. He had his whole life ahead of him. He had so much potential.

Yet, I think that's what makes the cross so real for me. It comforts me that Jesus experienced the same kind of meaningless suffering that we see in our world. He is not removed from it. Instead he chose to leave the glory of heaven to enter our world, in its darkest depths and all its ugliness. Not simply as a comfort to us, but to save us. His death was not meaningless. It made it possible for us to be in relationship with God, and to be with him forever.