I'm listening to Driscoll's Matthew 26 sermon on the gethsemane prayer in his "Pray like Jesus" series. How humbling it is to stop and think about God becoming man.
To think about the Creator and King of the universe coming into this sin stained world to walk among sin obsessed people like me.
Not just walk next to them but become intimately involved in their lives, to love them.
To die a painful, humiliating, horrible death.
To be hated, rejected, despised.
And through the death of this King, King Jesus, I have gained reconciliation to God. I have gained undeserved forgiveness. I have gained life and peace. And there is nothing I can even do to be worthy of this King's sacrifice.
Needless to say, when I stop.
My only response to this weighty truth has to be:
Thanks and devotion to the King who saved my life from inevitable destruction.
Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper,
a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table.
And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, "Why this waste?
For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor."
But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, "Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me.
For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me.
In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial.
Truly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her."