Men of great physical strength have sometimes carried outrageously heavy burdens—six hundred pounds, seven hundred pounds, eight hundred. And even then they have said, “I still have not been fully tested. Put on some more weight! Load me up!” With confidence they have gripped the bar and with great straining and groaning they have lifted it clear of the ground. Yet in every case, they have eventually reached a point where they have had to cry out, “Stop! I have hit my limit. I cannot carry any more weight.”
I wonder if you have ever considered that the burden Christ carried for us was without limit. Have you considered the tremendous weight he bore on Calvary?
There was his own burden of hunger and thirst and bereavement, and the burden of the thousand insults and outrages that had been heaped upon him. On top of that was the burden of seeing the sorrows of his mother and friends as they watched him suffer and struggle for breath. On top of even that was the burden of witnessing the crimes of the soldiers who were putting him to death and the mocking of the criminals who hung beside him.
Even as we consider this our hearts begin to cry, “Stop! Surely he cannot bear anymore.”
Yet Christ says, “Add more. Add to me the sins of the people of Israel as they turned and rebelled and chased after false gods. After that, add to me all the sins of all the earth that are being committed at this very moment and then heap on all the sins of the history of humanity to this day—all the sins of all those who are mine. Give me Moses’ rebellion and David’s adultery and Solomon’s philandering. Give me Adam’s complaining and Jacob’s obstinacy and Samson’s lust.”
The angels of heaven seem to shout, “Stop! Surely he has reached his limit!”
But again he speaks to say, “Burden me more! Add to me the weight of all the sins of the next two thousand years, add to me all the sins of all the ages that will follow. Load on the guilt of the blasphemer, the perjurer, the murderer, the adulterer, then the shame of the thief, the gossip, the hater, the idler. Give me the sins of omission and commission, the spontaneous sins and the carefully planned, the sins that were done and the good that was left undone. Give it to me. Give it all to me until not a single one remains. Give until there is no more left to give.”
The earth seems to tremble as he speaks yet again. “Now give me the sorrows, give me the losses, give me the broken hearts. Give me creation itself as it groans under the weight of what humanity has done, of what they have wrought. Heap it on, for I have room left to carry it, I have strength left to bear it.”
Men and angels alike pause in wonder at Christ receiving without grumbling, accepting without complaining, and bearing without limit
No wonder, then, that the sun is blotted from the sky, that darkness falls over the land. And as the light fades, men and angels alike pause in wonder at Christ receiving without grumbling, accepting without complaining, and bearing without limit—bearing it until at last it is lifted by the only One who has the right to do so.
And maybe this is just the smallest glimpse at what Isaiah meant when he said, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…” (Isaiah 53:4)
Inspired by De Witt Talmage
