My Small Cup, Christ's Bitter Cup

Yesterday, I was given a new insight into the sacrifice of the Savior and the Atonement due to a trial that I am facing (that's so often the case, isn't it?)

Three days ago, I somehow came down with Strep Throat - not sure where I got it from, but boy has it been miserable! My tonsils are very swollen and just to swallow is agonizing! I had two sleepless nights because just having to swallow my own saliva production was keeping me in constant pain. 

With that, Sunday approached. I debated if we should take the Sacrament, as I did not want to pass any germs to my family. We decided to do so, and I sanitized my hands and wore a mask during the ordinance. 

I usually look forward to the Sacrament, but I was dreading that piece of bread (I chose the smallest piece) and cup of water because of the pain I felt when swallowing.

I thought of the Savior, and this account from Matthew 26:36-39:

"Then cometh Jesus with them unto a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples...My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

It suddenly felt very appropriate that this small cup that I was to drink - representing the bitter cup that the Savior drank for me - was to be excruciating to me. I grimaced as I swallowed it because of the pain I felt, and yet that pain was nothing - NOTHING - compared to the pain and sorrow and anguish and grief inherent in the Savior's Bitter Cup.

It seemed fitting that this cup - which represents not cool, refreshing water but the blood of the Savior - should be bitter to me instead of refreshing.

If for nothing else, I am grateful for this illness because of what it has allowed God to teach me about His Son, and the Atonement, and the Sacrament.

And I am grateful - so grateful - to my Savior Jesus Christ for partaking of His Bitter Cup, when it was infinitely more painful than what I took, and full to the brim instead of a mere sip.

How I love Him!

In Jesus' name, Amen.

(Adam Abrams, Gethsemane, © 2008 Adam Abrams.)

Not a Cinderella Atonement

"Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.

"And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."

(Matthew 26:38-39).

The moment depicted in these verses is - to me-  the most tender, the most sacred, the most sublime moment in all of human history.

Jesus Christ - the Son of God, the Only Begotten of the Father, the Great Jehovah - descended below all things and took upon Himself the overwhelming load of our sins and pains and woes (Mosiah 3:7-9; Alma 7:11-13).

His humility in washing the feet of His Apostles when He was the King of Kings pales in comparison to His descending from His Throne above to suffer and die for one and all.

Much has been written and will be written about our Savior and His atoning sacrifice. I wish to focus on only one crucial point.

It is infinite.

It does not wear off. It is not limited. It is not, as my title suggests, a magical spell that breaks when the clock strikes midnight.

We will not be waltzing around in heaven only to suddenly realize that we have been transformed back into our rags of mortality, the stains from former sins seeping through the facade of our regal attire.

When we fully repent, the atonement of Jesus Christ fully cleanses us from our sins.

When asked about our former self, we can say as did Shakspeare's character Duke Senior, “Twas I; but ’tis not I:"

I love these stirring words from a favorite author, C.S. Lewis (you really should read the whole quote):

"That is why He warned people to ‘count the cost’ before becoming Christians. ‘Make no mistake,’ He says, ‘if you let me, I will make you perfect. The moment you put yourself in My hands, that is what you are in for. Nothing less, or other, than that. You have free will, and if you choose, you can push Me away. But if you do not push Me away, understand that I am going to see this job through. Whatever suffering it may cost you in your earthly life, whatever inconceivable purification it may cost you after death, whatever it costs Me, I will never rest, nor let you rest, until you are literally perfect— until my Father can say without reservation that He is well pleased with you, as He said He was well pleased with me. This I can do and will do. But I will not do anything less.’"

I love the phrase "infinite atonement", especially when broken down into smaller parts.

In-finite.

In negates finite. 

Not finite.

Finite meaning having limits.

This is without limits or bounds.

At-one-ment.

To take two estranged or different things and make them one.

"That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us... I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one"

John 17:21, 23

There is no limit to the Savior's ability to make us one with the Father.

The only limit is our agency. 

Will we choose Him?

Or, as He stirringly asked His Apostles, "Will ye also go away?" (John 6:68).

 

Thoughts on Good Friday

This Good Friday I am perhaps more aware of than others in the past. I have, of course, always recognized and celebrated Easter. But with President Russel M Nelson's invitation to participate in a Worldwide Fast this Good Friday, it has caused me to stop and think more about it.

I wonder how Christ feels about it being called "Good" Friday. It was certainly not a "good" day for Him in the traditional sense. It started with a sleepless night during which He suffered in Gethsemane for the sins and pains of all mankind, followed by a betrayal of one closest to Him. Then followed a series of illegal and unethical "trials", a charge as a blasphemer which - in His case only - was inaccurate as He truly is the Son of God.
He was spit on, He was mocked, He was blindfolded and struck and asked to prophesy who had hit Him.
The whole time, Christ had the power - at any moment - to end this ridicule and injustice. He had the power, as He reminded Peter, to ask the Father and have "more than twelve legions of angels" to come to His aid and protection (Matthew 26:53). 
It was not a "good" day in the sense we think of when we ask our kids after they come home from school, "did you have a good day?"
But it was a very good day in the sense of the evil overcome, the sacrifice made that would save the world from darkness and sin and death.

Here are a few brief thoughts as I read the scriptures detailing the events of the Thursday night and Friday of Holy Week.

First, Barabbas. I owe this insight to Camille Fronk Olson, a beloved religion professor of mine. Barabbas means "son of the father". He was a seditionist and murderer, we are told. The punishment for this crime was most likely to be the exact punishment that Christ received - public crucifixion. As Pilate asks if the Jews would have him release Jesus Christ - the true "Son of the Father" - to them, they instead ask for Barabbas to be released. 
And so Barabbas - the man guilty of sin and "worthy" of crucifixion - goes free. And Christ - the man who is wholly innocent and devoid of sin - goes on to scourging and crucifixion.
He took the place of Barabbas.
We are Barabbas.
He takes the punishment for our sins - our sentence of crucifixion - and puts it upon Himself, so that we can go free.
So that we can truly become sons and daughters of the Father.
So that we can live with Him again.

Second, in John's account of the confrontation in the Garden, the guards approach and Christ asks, "whom seek ye?"
"Jesus of Nazareth", they say.
"I am He," Christ responds.
Or, more properly written, "I Am He"
The guards fall back. 
(John 18:5-8)
I love this account of the betrayal. I have often assumed they fell back in fear because of the majesty, the fearlessness, and the absolute power and goodness they perceived in Jesus in that moment.
And I think that has something to do with it for sure.
But as I read it this morning, I perceived more.
The Egyptians worshipped many gods, and so Moses asked God, if the children of Israel ask what is the name of the God who sent me, what should I tell them? (I'm paraphrasing).
"I AM that I AM" was the answer. "Thou shalt say unto the children of Israel, "I AM hath sent me unto you."
(Exodus 3:13-14).
I believe that the reason the guards fell back was not only because of Christ's majesty and power, but because of His declaration that He was - and is - the Jehovah of the Old Testament, the God who freed the Children of Israel from Egypt - the very liberation that was being celebrated during that Passover season. 

He is our God, and we are His people - or we can be, if we choose to follow and serve Him.
I testify of His divinity. I glory in His life and His infinite sacrifice. I love and worship Him.