I've been getting butterflies in my stomach as I get nearer to the end of Matthew. They aren't good butterflies, they're dreadful and sad. I've spent almost a month examining the life and ministry of the man who is God that I call my Lord and Savior and though I've heard the rest of the story for most of my life, my heart is preparing itself for the inevitable. The brutal betrayal, torture, murder, death, and separation of ultimate unity. I know that it doesn't stop there, but the depth of pain He experienced for my sake is not something that is pleasurable to ponder.
The beginning of the end that leads to the beginning...(haha) starts in chapter 21- The Triumphal Entry. Jesus is welcomed by Jerusalem with celebration and palm leaves. He knew those shouting "Hosanna" would be the same that would shout "Crucify Him!" only days later.
After His arrival, He stopped at the temple to rebuke some moneychangers, healed some lame and blind, and was then encountered by the religious leaders. The next day, He's confronted by them again and He tells them two parables- in both of them, they lose out on eternal life.
As I read more about the scribes and pharisees and chief priests of the temple, my heart breaks for their state of blindness. These guys have dedicated their entire lives to The Law, the Torah. The Pharisees were also known as chasidim, which means loyal to God, or loved of God. It is tragically ironic that the very God these guys spent their lives striving to please came to earth as a man, stood in front of them, taught in their temples, healed their sick, and challenged their hypocrisy, only to be hated and eventually killed by them. Which was of course, all part of His plan.
I'm humbled by the fact that indeed all my righteous acts are as filthy rags to Him and as I lay helpless, He took away my blindness and made me see.
Thank you, my gracious and all powerful Father for rescuing me, for clothing me in robes of righteousness, for setting me free.
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