Passover and Easter link intimately together offering the story of our Perfect Jewish Passover Lamb in His victory over death through His shed blood. God instructed the Jewish community to celebrate their freedom from Egyptian slavery when the Angel of Death passed-over the lamb’s blood-marked doorposts in their simple dwellings in ancient Egypt. Jews have celebrated their festival of freedom for 3,000 years. For 2,000 years, Christians have celebrated the debt payment Jesus secured for us when we invite Him to live in our hearts under the freedom of His shed blood. At His last Passover in Jerusalem, Jesus inaugurated the first Last Supper.
While reading from The Passion Translation bible this morning, I ran across this beautiful verse, James 1:22, “So always let His Word become like poetry written and fulfilled by your life.” The verse reminded me of my husband whom I call The Poetry Man. He wrote one of my favorite poems and I share it here as a Lenten Meditation.
MY KING LIVES.
My King left His throne, born into the human race as a baby, crawling, gurgling, drooling; the Creator of sound unable to utter a word.
My King grew into an uncrowned royal toddler, learning to walk, touching everything around Him, experiencing, with human hands, all that He created. My King, unrecognized, grew into a Jewish teenager, talking with the Temple Rabbis who marveled at His words, not grasping His royalty or the fact that their Messiah was enlightening for them the very words He wrote.
My King grew into manhood working in the carpenter shop with His earthly Abba making chairs, tables, cabinets. Then suddenly, His Highness put down the tools, kissed His mother good bye and walked to the Jordan where John recognized His Royalty, baptized Him, and Father affirmed His call.
My King, knowing this earth was not His kingdom, served as a Rabbi at thirty, a teacher, a healer, a lover of the unlovable, calling those whom He created to walk with God the Father in a relationship rather than a rulebook.
My King was obedient to His earthly call as completely God and completely man, fulfilling the scripture He wrote; not uttering a word of revenge as they shed His Royal blood. On the cross, it was “Father, forgive them” under the sign “King of the Jews” scornfully tacked over His head.
My King died! Soldiers pulled His limp body from the cross. How frail He seemed! Only six hours, so little time to kill the greatest Man to ever live. Overcome with tears, not understanding, those who loved my King carried Him the tomb.
My King did not remain in the tomb. He conquered death. Six hours to die, three days dead, and then victory! The King of the Jews became the King for all humankind giving us the gift of eternity.
My King now lives high and lifted up at the Father's side and in the hearts of all of us who believe. My King Lives!
Is your King alive?
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