Amazing Grace! How sweet the sound-- That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost by now am found, was blind but now I see.
I once was lost by now am found, was blind but now I see.
For the past 2-3 mths, these words of what might be the world's most famous hymn echoed in my mind. It started when the film Amazing Grace was released in the US and Chris Tomlin sang the hymn for the film, (You can watch the MTV here and him teaching you how to play it here).
At first, I just loved the way that Chris did the hymn but as I recalled its history, and as I tried to put myself into the shoes of William Wilberforce & John Newton... and as I learned of the context and true meaning of Redemption, the Amazing Grace of God grew even more real for me.
I shared and sang this song quite a bit after that and it was definitely no coincidence that the theme for Easter this year was "Amazing Grace, How Can It Be?" BSF too sang this hymn after we studied Rom 5 and this was after I shared about this hymn during fellowship (wasn't planned).
And as I was preparing for what to share for the Easter service, God brought me to a deeper appreciation and understanding of slavery. Perhaps this concept is far flung and distant for a lot of us... and we sometimes don't really connect the scars and sacrifice of Christ with slavery... but to me, I started seeing the connection.
Slaves were bound with chains. Often at the feet, hands & sometimes the neck too. They had no rights. They were beaten, bruised, despised and tortured. Their cries of agony fell on deaf ears and the even the walls take no heed. The scars they bear are testament to man's moral depravity and the evil that man can sink into.
But not even slaves die a humiliating death.... they don't have their nakedness and blood spewed across a whole city, for all to mock. They don't have to endure the emotional pain of seeing the ones you love betray you, condemn you... the ones who'll eventually kill you. They don't experience the indescribable torment of divine separation.
This playlet, entitled 'The Long Silence' says it all...
The Long Silence
At the end of time, billions of people were seated on a great plain before God's throne. Most shrank back from the brilliant light before them. But some groups near the front talked heatedly, not cringing with cringing shame - but with belligerence.
"Can God judge us? How can He know about suffering?", snapped a pert young brunette. She ripped open a sleeve to reveal a tattooed number from a Nazi concentration camp. "We endured terror ... beatings ... torture ... death!"
In another group a Negro boy lowered his collar. "What about this?" he demanded, showing an ugly rope burn. "Lynched, for no crime but being black !"
In another crowd there was a pregnant schoolgirl with sullen eyes: "Why should I suffer?" she murmured. "It wasn't my fault." Far out across the plain were hundreds of such groups. Each had a complaint against God for the evil and suffering He had permitted in His world.
How lucky God was to live in Heaven, where all was sweetness and light. Where there was no weeping or fear, no hunger or hatred. What did God know of all that man had been forced to endure in this world? For God leads a pretty sheltered life, they said.
So each of these groups sent forth their leader, chosen because he had suffered the most. A Jew, a negro, a person from Hiroshima, a horribly deformed arthritic, a thalidomide child. In the centre of the vast plain, they consulted with each other. At last they were ready to present their case. It was rather clever.
Before God could be qualified to be their judge, He must endure what they had endured. Their decision was that God should be sentenced to live on earth as a man.
Let him be born a Jew. Let the legitimacy of his birth be doubted. Give him a work so difficult that even his family will think him out of his mind.
Let him be betrayed by his closest friends. Let him face false charges, be tried by a prejudiced jury and convicted by a cowardly judge. Let him be tortured.
At the last, let him see what it means to be terribly alone. Then let him die so there can be no doubt he died. Let there be a great host of witnesses to verify it.
As each leader announced his portion of the sentence, loud murmurs of approval went up from the throng of people assembled. When the last had finished pronouncing sentence, there was a long silence. No one uttered a word. No one moved.
For suddenly, all knew that God had already served His sentence.
This is the Jesus we all worship. This... is the Jesus of the Scars.
Jesus of the Scars
If we have never sought, we seek Thee now:
Thine eyes burn through the dark, our only stars;
We must have sight of thorn-pricks on Thy brow,
We must have Thee, O Jesus of the Scars.The heavens frighten us; they are too calm;
In all the universe we have no place.
Our wounds are hurting us; where is the balm?
Lord Jesus, by Thy Scars, we claim Thy grace.If, when the doors are shut, Thou drawest near,
Only reveal those hands, that side of Thine;
We know to-day what wounds are, have no fear,
Show us Thy Scars, we know the countersign.The other gods were strong; but Thou wast weak;
They rode, but Thou didst stumble to a throne;
But to our wounds only God's wounds can speak,
And not a god has wounds, but Thou alone.
