it is finished.

i fumbled the rusted nail in my hand.  i ran my fingers over its head as i hid it in my bible.  i knew what it represented, and i knew what i must do with it. 

without a word spoken, hundreds of us filled the dim aisle way, headed to the cross with nails in our hands.

i picked up the hammer, and i choked back tears.  and i nailed my sin to the cross, once and for all.  as we left the cross, we left the nails in His hands, to be unreturned to us, eternally.  we headed to the Lord's table before returning to silently pray at our seats. 

the tangibility of it spoke conviction sharper than any stake, yet it was not the dagger of guilt and condemnation.  it was not a feeling of responsibility for what took place on that Friday, two-thousand years ago (albeit, our sinful nature should dictate that we are indeed responsible for the death that he had to suffer).  in the stead of blame, i felt gratitude.  for perhaps the first time ever in my life, i got it.  and even then, i still don't get it all.  but for just a moment, the beauty of the grace of this day became apparent to me, as it became personal and palpable.  

Jesus died. for me.  i hung the nails in His hands, and He opened them up with love and grace and mercy.  it is finished.

finished, it was.  but, it didn't end there.  My Savior, my King, is risen! He is risen, indeed! He is alive, and the same power that conquered the grave, resides in each of us.  Thank you Jesus for the gift of your Spirit.  Thank you for the generous mercy that poured out with your blood.  Thank you for a love that covers every wound, every sin, every ounce of guilt and shame. 

and, just like the thief that was crucified next to Christ, it is never too late to choose Him.  His grace is sufficient to purify even the dirtiest of hearts.  the criminal did no good works before or after His conversion, and yet Christ still told him He belonged to the Kingdom of God.  Thank you Jesus for your grace.  I pray you awaken hearts to the beautiful, plentiful, valuable, yet inherently free grace and mercy this weekend as eyes and ears recount what you endured two-thousand years ago.   trust and believe: it is finished.