To Suffer More than All

Image from LDS Media Library

The crucifixion is always a tender moment in the scriptures, especially when really picturing the suffering that Christ went through in those final days of his life. He was mocked, most likely starved, and scourged with a whip that ripped through his skin until his entire back was an open wound. 

The Romans took particular care to make his suffering even more acute. They crowned him with thorns and laid a robe onto the festering wound on his back, only to rip the robe off again after blood had surely dried on it.

And after all that, it didn't end there. They continued to mistreat him, inducing more pain that I could ever imagine experiencing. He was even expected to carry his own cross! It's no wonder, after the loss of blood and the lack of food, that Christ was unable to endure the cross's burden.

It wasn't until I had really thought about what Christ was going through—the complete agony he must have felt—that I realized the significance of this passage in Luke 23, as he is walking (staggering) to Golgotha:

27 And there followed him a great company of people, and of women, which also bewailed and lamented him.
28 But Jesus turning unto them said, Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.
29 For, behold, the days are coming, in the which they shall say, Blessed are the barren, and the wombs that never bare, and the paps which never gave suck.

 When I read this, I was absolutely blown away. Here was Christ, going through a horrifying experience, and he says "Weep not for me"! Of all people, he certainly deserved the sympathy. All the world should have been weeping for him. But Christ didn't care one wit about the suffering he was going through. Instead, he was still thinking of others, concerned for their welfare more than his own. In the highest point of his agony, he turned to those he loved and felt sorrow for them.

And here I am, laying in my bed bemoaning my upset stomach and wanting all the attention of my husband, thinking, "You should feel sorry for me!" How pitiful. How humbling.

It makes me want to lay all of my pains and my fears at Christ's feet and say, "I know this isn't much, but I can't get through this without you. I need you more than you ever needed me."

The miracle of his Atonement is that Christ truly suffered more than all, and yet his love for us ran more deep than any pain.

Her Story Can Be Our Story

It's Christmastime, one of the best times of the year! I love the worldwide focus on Christ and his love. I have been thinking this week about the real reason we celebrate Christmas. Christ's birth is so important because of what he came to do for us—he broke the bands of sin and death!

He died for us, and he returned as our resurrected Savior.

After his resurrection he visited many of his disciples, and my favorite story is that of Mary Magdalene. Christ's visit to her is one of the most personal. It can be found in John 20:

15 Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.

16 Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master.

17 Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God.

Mary was the first person to see our resurrected Lord! Is this not significant?

There are some that use this fact as a basis for the theory that Mary was the wife of Christ. Why else would she have been first, right?

While this theory might be true, I like the way that a guest speaker in my religion class put it. She thinks of it in a much more personal and applicable way.

What was it that really made Mary special enough that Christ appeared to her first? It was the fact that she lingered. She stayed by the tomb, mourning for her Messiah with a love that kept her eyes wet with tears. Perhaps Mary's story could have been anyone's story, if only they had lingered.

I like to think that Christ would have appeared to any disciple who did the same in that moment. That's who Christ is, after all; he is the Savior of all mankind. He loved not just the crowd, but the individual. And what made Mary special to him is that she was his disciple and his friend.

If it had been me or you that day by the tomb, would not Christ have had equal love enough to show himself to us? Yes, I think he would.

For truly, he shows himself to each and every one of us that turns our heart to him in love. It's when we linger on his words and truly sorrow for our sins that we too can see the light of our resurrected Lord.

The Sinner, the Accuser, and the Savior

Image from LDS Media

How often do we find ourselves looking down on someone for their sins? How many times have we ourselves been looked down upon? We've each been, at one time or another, either the sinner or the accuser in our own lives.

Studying the story of the adulteress woman in John 8 (watch the Bible Videos version for a powerful take on it), I noticed that this story exemplifies Christ's role as mediator between those who are accused and those who do the accusing.

In this story, the Pharisees rudely push a woman in front of Christ and present the question, "This woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?" (John 8:4–5).

If we had been there that day, where would we most likely be looking? A crowd has just come barging in, dragging a woman and accusing her of one of the three greatest sins (Alma 39:3–5). Not only is the accusation condemning, but the Pharisees had caught her "in the very act." She probably is not looking like someone who expected to be out in public. And by the time they got her to the temple, she would have been a mess. So again, where are everyone's eyes likely to be?

Directly on her.

What shame she must have felt. She must have sensed everyone's eyes boring into her as she hid her face from their stares.

But the very first thing that Christ does to answer the Pharisee's question shows his deep understanding and love for her: "Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground" (John 8:6). Again imagining that we are there, what is Christ doing to our attention in that moment? We are staring at the woman, when suddenly, our gaze is caught by his movement. All eyes would have been drawn to his finger, all thoughts focused on his writing.

No longer would the crowd be concentrated on the woman and her sin, staring at her with condemning or sorrowful eyes. He pulls everyone's attention away from the sinner and onto Him.

This is symbolic of what Christ does for all of us. We are all sinners to one degree or another, and we all have the opportunity to "go, and sin no more" (John 8:11). Through the Atonement, Christ has taken upon himself our sin. And because of the Atonement, we will no longer have to feel the shame that comes from our past mistakes.

But in this story, Christ doesn't just stop there. Not only did he stoop down and draw all attention onto him, but when he stood back up, he continued to teach. The first words out of his mouth were, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her" (John 8:7). This is the second lesson of the Atonement that we can find in this story. For Christ's role is to not only to take upon himself our sins, but also to encourage us to repent. With this invitation, Christ turns the attention of everyone in the crowd back onto themselves. 

All eyes started on the sinner but were drawn to the Savior and then were commanded to turn to themselves and their own lives. For that's what the Atonement is about. We can't experience the full saving power unless we stop judging others and change ourselves.

We've all made mistakes. We've all sinned. Maybe today, it's the adulteress woman in the middle, but what if it were you? For it could be you, couldn't it? Isn't that what Christ is saying here? That we all stand no higher than this woman? So why do we judge her?

Truly, none of us would be able to cast that first stone.