The Love that Shakes the Unvierse

They say love is powerful, but let me tell you about a love that shatters everything we think we understand. Picture this, the one through whom the cosmos was created, through whom galaxies were spoken into existence (Colossians 1:16), barely able to stand as his own creations rain down blows upon his face. Each breath they use to mock him is held together by him (Colossians 1:17). Every muscle used to torture him operates by his design. Their spit that stuck to him, he’s the one who allowed it into existence. Here’s part of the Godhead himself being torn apart by mere created beings. The most ultimate power in the universe stands there just taking it. Why? Love. Love compelled him to endure this ironic fate.

 

Take a moment to let that sink in. Jesus, fully God and fully man, stood silent as fragile, mortal beings, dependent on him for their very breath, mocked him, struck him, and nailed him to a cross. He sat there, unresisting, as they tore apart the body he had willingly taken on for their sake. This is not just a betrayal or an injustice. This is creation rebelling against its Creator in the most visceral way imaginable. Yet he looked upon these creatures who were actively destroying him and said, “I choose them still.” My head hurts trying to comprehend this.

 

Every step toward Golgotha was a choice. Every lash of the whip, every thorn pressed into his scalp, every nail driven through his flesh, he could’ve stopped it all with less than a thought. The same power that keeps the planets spinning could’ve reduced his tormentors to dust. Yet he didn’t. Instead, he took the worst of humanity and gave them his best. Because of love.

 

This is not a God who operates the way we do. If we were in his place, betrayed, mocked, tortured, we’d lash out. We’d fight back, assert our power, and demand justice. But Jesus didn’t come to destroy his enemies; he came to save them. He came to save us.

 

The passion narrative is not just a story of injustice. It’s a story of love so incomprehensible it feels almost reckless. Jesus didn’t just tolerate the mockery and the pain; He embraced it. He allowed Himself to be led like a lamb to the slaughter (Isaiah 53:7) because his love demanded it.

 

And, believe it or not, we’re no different from those soldiers, those religious leaders, those angry crowds. Every time we choose our way over his, every time we pay him lip service while our hearts chase other gods we’re right there with them, hammer in hand. But, his love. Oh his love. While we were staging our little rebellions he was dying for us. Taking the full cup of divine justice, drinking down every drop meant for us. The perfect one, the innocent one becoming sin and taking on every dark thing we’ve ever done or ever will do.

 

The craziest part? He knew. He knew exactly what we would do, how we would fail, how we would cheat on him and betray him again and again. Yet he chose the cross anyway. That’s the kind of love that changes everything. The kind that makes you want to give your whole life in return. Not out of duty. But, out of awe.

 

Because when you really see it, really understand what happened, how can you not give everything? How can you witness love this extravagant and not want to build your entire life around it? This isn’t just a nice story. It’s where divine love crashed into human hatred in the mightiest of ways and won. Love like this changes you. It wrecks all your old priorities and makes you want to live a CIA life where Christ is your absolute all.

 

The wildest thing of all? He’s still loving like that, right now, reaching out to anyone willing to receive it. Ready to lavish them with the same universe shaking love that held him to that cross. Now that’s something worth living for.