Now, to all eternity, the cross remains at the heart of God, stands as the truest symbol of God, offers the most exact and precise exposition of God. Part of the point of the doctrine of the Trinity is that what happened to Jesus of Nazareth on the first Good Friday happened to God; and, having happened to God, it has, so to speak, made God decisively and in practice, once and for all, what he always was in principle. That is why, on Good Friday, those who come to church do so, not to venerate a piece of wood (that, after all, would be the grossest pagan folly), but to use the cross as the truest possible icon of the living and loving God. The Heart of God Seen in the CrossAs with any icon, the point is to look through it at the reality, of which, like all true symbols, the cross speaks more deeply than words.

—N. T. Wright, For All God’s Worth: True Worship and the Calling of the Church, 57

As at creation God worked for six days, completing on the Friday the loving and generous work of creation, and resting on the seventh day, the Saturday, so on Good Friday God finally completes the loving and generous work he had set himself to accomplish.

—N. T. Wright, For All God’s Worth: True Worship and the Calling of the Church, 57

This day is good precisely because God was in control at Calvary. The crucifixion of Jesus was not some bad deal that God had to try to make the best of; it was a working out of divine intention with a view to the salvation of an otherwise doomed creation.

—Laurence Hill Stookey, Calendar: Christ’s Time for the Church, 96

” . . . this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God,
you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.” (Acts 2:23)

” . . . for truly in this city there were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed, both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and the peoples of Israel,
to do whatever Your hand and Your plan had predestined to take place.” (Acts 4:27-28)

And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you want, you can do good for them. But you will not always have me. She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for burial. And truly, I say to you, wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.” (Mark 14:3-9)

This beautiful account of an event which probably took place on Monday or Tuesday of Holy Week) is framed by signs of the mounting opposition to Jesus during the last week of his earthly life, both from the chief priests and scribes (9:1-2) and even from within the band of disciples (Judas, 9:10). Against that backdrop of growing hostility and treachery, Mark recounts an incident of striking contrast, a beam of light that shines all the brighter for the growing darkness surrounding it. It is the account of a remarkable act of love and worship. As G. Campbell Morgan wrote, “Here was He, in a dark and desolate land; and lo! out of the heart of a woman, a spring of fresh water sprung for the thirsty Christ! He valued it.”

Most of those in attendance responded negatively to what they had just observed. But Jesus’s response was quite different. Far from seeing Mary’s act as waste or inappropriate, he commends her and her instinctive act of sefless devotion. ” He calls it a “beautiful thing.” Mary had a unique opportunity to serve the Lord and express her love for him—and she took full advantage of it. Literally, Jesus is saying, “what she had, she did”—and he rejoiced in her spontaneous display of devotion.

And God rewarded her faithfulness with a very special place in the unfolding story of redemption, and a continuing role as well: “Wherever the gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in memory of her.”

Undoubtedly Mary’s act of total commitment and love meant so much to Jesus because it was itself so Christlike—it was suggestive of what he was about to do: to give himself completely for the sins of the world, to allow himself broken and spilled out in an act of total selflessness. What he had, he did: he had the unique opportunity to give of himself fully for the salvation of humankind, and he did so willingly. “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). He held nothing back; he gave it all.

We need to not only honor Mary, but to follow her example as well. What she had, she did. She held nothing back; she gave it all.
She gave lavishly of herself to her fullest. Hers was a heart brimming with grateful devotion. She gave her very best.

May we learn to live like her, give like her, worship like her!

When we gather together to worship, we are indeed becoming what we are called to be. 

—Edith Humphrey, Grand Entrance: Worship on Earth as in Heaven, 3

One cannot know the full implications of God the Father until one understands truly that there is God the Son.

—Edith M. Humphrey, “The Gift of the Father: Looking at Salvation History Upside Down,” in Trinitarian Theology for the Church: Scripture, Community, Worship, 91 n6

“Oh come to the Father through Jesus the Son,
And give Him the glory, great things He hath done!”

The Son, in plunging into our world and assuming our flesh, revealed the Father and accomplished all things so that we could, in reality, join him in his prayer, “Abba! Father!” (Romans 8:15).

—Edith M. Humphrey, “The Gift of the Father: Looking at Salvation History Upside Down,” in Trinitarian Theology for the Church: Scripture, Community, Worship, 100

I sought the Lord and afterward I knew
He moved my soul to seek Him, seeking me;
It was not I that found, O Savior true
No, I was found of Thee.

Thou didst reach forth Thy hand and mine enfold;
I walked and sank not on the storm vexed sea,
T’was not so much that I on Thee took hold,
As thou, dear Lord, on me.

I find, I walk, I love, but O the whole
Of love is but my answer, Lord, to Thee;
For Thou wert long beforehand with my soul,
Always Thou lovedst me.

—anonymous (1878) (hymn)

With a glance back to Herbert’s two treasures [see yesterday’s Quotable], we see that the revelation of the incarnation and the Trinity, though hinted at for long ages, was not, in every sense, a gradual unveiling. No sooner is the lock of the incarnation undone, than the lock on the treasure chest of the Trinity springs open. Granted, it took several centuries for all that treasure to be unpacked, to be taken into inventory, so to speak, but the doctrine of the Trinity was not dreamed in a vision, not framed as an utter novelty in the ecumenical creeds. Indeed, the truth about the triune God is implicit in the knowing confession that Jesus is Lord (as we think about his relation to us and the world) and in our careful contemplation concerning his self-revealed and proper identity as Son to the Father, with the Holy Spirit.

—Edith M. Humphrey, “The Gift of the Father: Looking at Salvation History Upside Down,” in Trinitarian Theology for the Church: Scripture, Community, Worship, 91-92

Thou hast but two rare cabinets full of treasure,
The Trinity, and Incarnation:
Thou hast unlockt them both,
And made them jewels to betroth
The work of thy creation
Unto thy self in everlasting pleasure.

—George Herbert (1593-1633), “The Temple”