I do not know what today’s readings are, or yesterdays, but I know how I feel today, so I’ll just meditate about God through that. As good Friday and Easter get closer, I think about what is coming theologically: Jesus dies for us. However you want to think about it, he dies. Why? Why did he go through with it? The question humbles me. It saddens me. But it gives me hope. Ultimately it gives me grace. It feels like when I was in third grade. I got in trouble and wrote “Cory” on the board instead of “Corby.” I will never forget that Cory, a boy in my class, had to serve my recess detention. While I got to go out and play kickball, he stood with his nose in the cold corner of the old brick entryway to our little elementary school. He didn’t even say anything to the teacher about it. He just took my detention. After school he said, “You wrote my name on the board, and I had to miss my recess. Don’t ever do it again.” Even as a child, my guts were wrenched. I felt sick. Someone else paid the price for what I did. I don’t even remember what transgression I committed, but I know I didn’t pay for it. It is kind of like that only on a much grander scale. I never wrote Cory’s name on the board again, but I rely on Jesus to miss recess for me again and again.
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