Passion
Boy, there’s a word to conjure a mixture of images in a mind. It may make you think of a sporting event with roaring supporters, or maybe screaming fans at a concert. For the more intellectually-inclined it might bring to mind two sides of a heated debate. It could even leave you with a knowing smile and a hint of a blush.
It’s a word that has some much resonance at this time of year for a completely different reason. During Holy Week it awakens thoughts of a triumphant entry into Jerusalem on a donkey, through to the intimacy and ultimate betrayal of a meal with close friends. Images of humiliation and mocking, followed by an excruciating death and then the ultimate joy of a resurrection.
All for passion.
All because there’s a God who is so passionately in love with His people that He sacrificed His Son to reach out to us and to clear the debt of our imperfect lives. All because He Loves ME… and YOU. Not “the human race” as a faceless mass of people, but each of us by name.
It’s sobering, heartwrenching, heartwarming, mindblowing, humbling and so much more. The infinite creator of the universe, so passionate about ME that He would go through all that… for ME.
I can’t tell you how much this impacts me to the core of my being. Even when I was away from God, there was always something about Easter that tugged at me (I always put it down to the raw emotions I was used to feeling rather than anything else – boy was I deluded)
Spend 5 minutes this week, just 5 minutes, and think about what happened 2000 years ago and why. Then ask yourself “what should it mean to me?”