Many Questions

  “The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who hear God’s word, but all too quickly the message is crowded out by the worries of this life and the lure of wealth, so no fruit is produced.” Mathew 13:22

  The idea of thorns cropped up while doing some writing on the Lazarus story from the messenger’s perspective. Sent by Martha and Mary to go get Jesus, in my story he ended up running through the heat of the day. The messenger needed to get out of the sun so he rests beneath a thorny tree, seeking the shade it offered.

  While this passage in Mathew refers to thorns as being the things in life which draw us away from God, I can’t help but reflect on the Crown of Thorns my Lord wore. Having the messenger rest beneath a thorn tree was like placing him safely under the shadow of Jesus. I was pleasantly surprised by how this part of the story unfolded although I didn’t do much thinking about the significance until now.

  There’s not been much thinking about the Crown of Thorns before, either. It’s been one of those passages that have gotten glossed over as part of the Story. Is this verse a foreshadowing of Christ’s crucifixion when the life of King Jesus and all He represented was crowned by thorns?

  It’s as though the world and all the things that keep us apart from God were placing their mark on Him. If each lash He bore represented sin, is the crown an extension of that? I believe it is.

  I can’t help but wonder about the soldier who made the crown. He must have gotten stabbed a couple of times in the process. (All the photos of the type of thorn tree that grows in Israel show nasty two inch spikes.) Is this what happens when we make our own thorn crown for Christ? We end up stabbed?

  At one time I believed Jesus distant and harsh. I believed He couldn’t love me because of the things I had done, the choices I had made; thorns and more thorns.

  As a believer, I have to ponder (with some trepidation) where I continue to build this thorny crown. Where does religion still have a stronghold in my life? Do I view tithing as a cost of admission? Where is my ability to love freely and unabashedly stifled and broken? Where do I condemn? Judge? Where does feeling unworthy still claw at my soul?

  But then, when I get stabbed by these thorns of…let’s call it what it is: sin…my blood on the thorn mixes with the blood from Christ’s brow. His blood, His life, His message, becomes a transfusion of truth and hope, grace and forgiveness that fills my beating heart.

  And I am forever changed.