I love thee because thou hast first loved me,
and purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow;
if ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
As I sang, a picture of a crown of thorns hung suspended in my head. I began to think about each thorn, each barb as though it represented one of my sins. How could the Lord of Heaven and Earth subject himself to such cruelty, such pain for the unworthy? My heart breaks with the knowledge that it was not a Roman guard or a misguided High Priest who did this to Jesus.
It was me.
And yet this image has brought such hope to my life. The wounds Christ bore were inflicted by me. And yet with each one, I became more free.
By the wounds of his crown, he set my mind free to hear and see God.
By the wounds of his hands, he set my hands free to do his will.
By the wounds of his feet, he set my feet free to follow him.
By the wounds of his back, he set my back free from the burden of sin and judgment.
By the wound in his side, he opened the locked vault of my hardened heart.
By his broken heart, he filled my heart with life and joy in the Spirit.
By his wounds he has made me whole again. He has taken upon himself the most beautiful crown of glory, that I might wear a heavenly crown of precious jewels.
If ever I loved thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.