Jesus was minutes from death. The clock was ticking down on His life, His muscles exhausted from hoisting His body to sneak each breath and avoid suffocation.
From all we know, the last time Jesus had anything to eat or drink was the night before at what we now call the “Last Supper.”
Each time Jesus speaks from the cross carries weight because of the scarcity of His words and the effort they require. One of those phrases is simple: “I am thirsty.”
Never forget the power of what is happening here. God has taken on the weakness of human flesh.
- God bleeds
- God hungers
- God weeps
- God tires
- God dies
At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, after 40 days in the wilderness without food or drink, angels attended to Him. Not this time. This time, it was a sponge on a stick.
I can’t begin to comprehend. Jesus made Himself nothing. He took on the nature of a servant. He suffered, and then He died.
Meanwhile, I type while sipping on coffee, in a climate-controlled room, clothed and comfortable. I suppose the emotion this could elicit is guilt; it is my fault He hung there, as much as anyone else’s.
But I’m really just thankful.