“I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has turned to wax; it has melted within me. My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth; you lay me in the dust of death. Dogs surround me, a pack of villains encircles me; they pierce my hands and my feet. All my bones are on display; people stare and gloat over me. They divide my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.” Psalm 22:14-18
Rejection. What Jesus suffered is the epitome of rejection. The people stared, gloated, laughed, mocked, spit on Him, pulled out His beard and beat Him beyond recognition. They stripped Him of His clothes and then cast lots, gambling over them.
I have to wonder what happened to the soldier who won that lottery and went home with Jesus’ garments slung over his arm. Did he go home boasting of his good fortune? Was he thrilled that he had a new outfit that he thought cost him nothing?
But how did he feel every time he looked at that seamless robe? Did it make him remember the bloodied face, beaten to a pulp, yet still filled with compassion? Did he recall the words cried out in agony, pleading that God would forgive them all because they didn’t know what they were doing? Did it make him wonder at the darkness that filled the day sky but rivaled the darkest night that he now knew in his heart?
Or was he certain as he looked at that clothing that surely this was the Son of God?
And if he was certain, what did he do with the garments he held? Did he bury his face in them and cry out for forgiveness? What would he do with this One who had died?
We don’t know the answers. We can’t answer for him. We can only answer for ourselves. What will we do with this One who suffered the epitome of rejection and died? Only we can answer.
Lord Jesus, I choose You. I say “Yes” to You. I want to follow You.