"There was nothing you could do."
Perhaps the most stunning event I ever experienced was the day of the space shuttle Challenger explosion shortly after liftoff.
I was fortunate to live close to my work and enjoy lunch in the comfort of my own home. As soon as I came in the door that day, I turned on the TV to check the news and, generally, put on some background noise while I made my lunch in the kitchen.
But I never made it to the kitchen.
Just seconds after I turned on the TV, I saw the disastrous image of the Challenger exploding.
Stunning.
And I was literally stunned.
Stunned beyond words.
Stunned beyond action.
Stunned beyond belief.
For the entire length of my lunch period, I just stood in front of the TV, desperately hoping the shuttle could make it just a little higher without exploding.
But…no.
And as my left brain finally kicked in and prompted me to check the time, I realized I had "hoped" for the entire lunch period.
For the remainder of the day, I couldn't stop thinking about those images. But more concerning, I couldn't stop thinking about my reaction.
Had my empathy displaced me from reality?
Or had my empathy unified me with their reality?
"Die with Christ."
During Good Friday week, I watch "The Passion of the Christ" as a traditional reminder of the extensive cost required for my salvation.
And for at least 2 hours and 7 minutes, I "hope".
With every accusation, taunt, and irreverent Son of Man‐handling act, I also feel shame as if it were all by my hand. The shame extends to my inaction in light of His suffering. In both cases, there was obviously "nothing I could do" since I wasn’t even alive then.
But in the course of praying this week as I reflected on Jesus' "Road to Rescue", I told the Lord that I didn't take His sacrifice for granted.
...upon which I immediately heard a voice saying "that's a lie".
The voice reminded me of my tendency to conveniently and comfortably rationalize behavioral choices as "not sin", knowing fully well that most are.
And every time I repeat poor choices, I in fact take the Cross for granted and might as well be personally driving in those nails.
When Christians "die with Christ", the target is supposed to be their "old (sinful) man" in order for the "new (Spirit-led) man" to emulate and grow closer to Christ.
I've found that it becomes imperative for me to continually die with Christ, not only to enjoy life as God intended, but to acknowledge the comprehensive, tragic extent of His redemption.
Otherwise, the "old man" keeps trying to hang around.
Hopefully, Jesus' "Road to Rescue" has encouraged you to great hope and confidence despite the events of this week as He experienced them. Moreover, the value of your salvation should be increased exponentially considering Christ's personal investment.
Please take time this (and every) Good Friday to die with Christ by honoring His all‐encompassing, life‐giving sacrifice. And when you think, "there’s nothing I can do", you can always simply remember and live for Him.