Fulfilled

"When Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, 'It is finished....'" - John 19:30

Never in the history of the world have those words meant so much... or held such consequence. When Jesus said, "It is finished," His suffering was coming to an end, yes, but more than that, so much more than that... so was ours. Our suffering began when sin entered our world way back in the Garden. It was there that a promise was first made about a Rescuer who would come to save His people from their sins, turn darkness into light, fear into hope, condemnation into salvation... death into life.

With those words our debt was paid, our slate wiped clean. Only the Son of God could have done that. Our feeble attempts come to nothing in securing such treasures. Jesus fulfilled the purpose for which He came, the significance of his birth, life, and death... and the story's not over yet. It's only Friday... and Sunday's comin'! I love that statement, that profession. It was the title of a famous sermon by Tony Campolo I heard decades ago, and I think of it any time life throws a curve my way.

Those words... those three words, are bittersweet for me. It saddens my heart, convicts my spirit, that my sins were resposible for Jesus' suffering and death. Yet. Yet, I also rejoice that He loved me enough to willingly sacrifice Himself, His perfect, sinless self... for my sake. I was hopeless, helpless...drowning by the weight of sin pulling me under. Jesus stretched out His hands and saved me.

This is a strange comparison, I know, but it was one of those poignant moments when a thing reaches out and grabs you, making you understand in a fresh and more meaningful way something you hadn't grasped as significantly before.

It was an accident, really. I was doing my usual Thursday morning cleaning. I had left a bottle of Mrs. Meyer's on the tile floor in the bathroom and hadn't noticed that I knocked it over as I walked out. After a few minutes I walked back in, saw my blunder, and grabbed some paper towels to start sopping it up. I was shocked! I mop that floor every week. I considered it clean. I was wrong. Mrs. Meyer had shed light on the fact that there was dirt so deeply embedded, so dulling the finish, that I, on casual glance, had missed it.

I grabbed a scrub brush and started the arduous task of spritzing, scrubbing, rinsing, and repeating. I did this for three hours, I kid you not... and it's just a tiny bathroom! For all my efforts it looked better, but there was no way... NO WAY... that floor was coming completely clean. There were tiny places, miniscule cracks in the tile where no brush could reach, no bleach could penetrate to make it pristine.

"The only way this tile will EVER be completely clean again is to get a new floor put in," I said to myself. That's when the realization hit me. That's exactly what Jesus did for me and for you by His death on the cross. His blood cleanses us from all unrighteousness, and because His was an acceptable sacrifice - the ONLY acceptable sacrifice - for the Father, Jesus makes all things... new. My heart. My life. My purpose.

"It is finished."

Those words. Those words make me want to cry...and to shout for joy... and to drop to my knees in humble thanks and grateful adoration. He fulfilled... He finished... He accomplished what I NEVER could have done. My heart was black within. Sin had seeped into all the cracks and crevices... but I am washed in the blood of the Lamb, and now... I am clean. "It is finished."

Never in the history of the world have those words meant so much... or held such beautiful consequence.

Nothing But The Blood Of Jesus

What can wash away my sin

Nothing but the blood of Jesus

What can make me whole again

Nothing but the blood of Jesus

Oh, precious is the flow

That makes me white as snow

No other fount I know

Nothing but the blood of Jesus