His first crown

Last week, as I was preparing for the church service and reading the lyrics of the hymns we'd be singing, many phrases caught my attention and moved my heart to worship.  But one phrase in particular seemed to hit me right in my gut.

That love of truth, those deeds of love, 
That death so steeped in hate and scorn --
These all are past, and now above, 
He reigns, our king, first crowned with thorn.

I understand the overall emotion of this stanza is supposed to be a victorious one but my words got caught in my throat when I read the last four words - first crowned with thorn. In the split second that I read it, I caught a glimpse of Jesus crowned in glory next to His father, as images of His head hung down with a crown of thorns flashed like lightening across my mind.  It was just a brief moment, really, but it stayed with me and I continued to be disturbed by images of Royalty being abused in such a scornful manner.

Yes, He is with His Father, and He stands tall and beautiful with a victorious crown on His brow, but the fact that His first crown was one made out of hate is more than my heart can handle in this moment.  It makes me angry and it hurts me because I know who He is and I know what He deserved.  I know that it has all been made right but it still happened and it should never have been.

I have said, before, that when I choose sin it is almost as if I'm putting yet one more thorn in His crown.  And that breaks my heart.  And I don't want that sin in my life because I don't want the pain in His heart.

We will wince in pain when we catch our finger on one thorn.  Can you imagine someone asking you to walk on a pile of thorns?  There would be pain in your feet that you wouldn't even be able to register.  And your feet are actually pretty tough.  Imagine now, that those same thorns were placed on the delicate skin of your face and head.  That crown of thorns was not placed gingerly on our Savior's head.  It was firm and stayed in place, possibly throughout the entire crucifixion.  The blood dripping down his face was mingled with the tears He shed on behalf of those who were hurting the ones He came to save.  Jesus cried for the one who made the crown, too.

Who made it?  Who decided that this humble Galilean needed a crown fashioned out of tiny painful spikes?  What kind of human being, created by God Himself, takes the time to collect branches of thorns and works it to fit a man's head?  Did this person hurt themselves while they were making it?  Did their fingers bleed once or twice?  What would they have done if while they were making the crown, Jesus walked up to them, placed His hands on their wounds and healed them?  Would that man have stopped making the crown and bowed before Jesus instead?  Yeah, I kind of think he would have.  Would that man have felt that the crown belonged to him and placed it on his own head, instead?  Maybe. But Jesus would never have allowed it.

That's the kind of Savior we serve.  And that is what He does.  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us so that we could be forgiven.  While we were making the crown, He came to us and healed the wounds of our own hurtful efforts.  We don't deserve it any more than the guy who fashioned the thorn crown, and yet we are recipients of such a great love, nonetheless.

How often I forget to acknowledge every part of His sacrifice.  I tend to see the crown as just another part of the crucifixion image and yet it was a message in and of itself.  Because when I realize that my King donned a crown that was the painful opposite of what He should have had, my heart is moved.

My heart is moved into worship, adoration, devotion, praise... all these (and more) are the emotions and desires of my heart when I reflect on this one element of His sacrifice - the crown of thorns.