He was wounded because of our rebellious deeds,
crushed because of our sins;
he endured punishment that made us well;
because of his wounds we have been healed. (Isaiah 53:5)
Jesus left the glory of heaven for the purpose that I might enter it. He went homeless on earth to give me a mansion in paradise. Refused hospitality in many towns, he ensured my permanent welcome into the New Jerusalem. And by relinquishing his rights of sonship he legalized my adoption forever.
Nails in Jesus’s hands and feet, thorns in his head, gasping for air as his lungs collapsed, he voluntarily endured crucifixion so I will never know those agonies in hell, which was my due for treacheries against God. He silently accepted the abuse meant for me—tied to a post, whipped with shards, spit upon and jeered. He was stripped naked and his head was beaten with a rod, and that is exactly how the demons would have treated me for eternity had Jesus not taken my place.
The humbling shame of Jesus when spread eagle before the public replaced the embarrassment I would have suffered when every secret is exposed on judgment day. After a lifetime of insolence and apathy my sins filled many pages in the books of heaven. Before the angels and humans from all history, the list was to be read aloud and the images replayed. But when the books are opened, my every sin will be lined out with the red blood of Jesus. My public shame is shifted to the Lamb of God while his virtue flys to me.
Jesus lived a sinless life, and when he was done, he laid the robe of his righteousness around my shoulders. He took up my ugly guilt and, though his nostrils burned at the stench, he pulled it over his head. He wore my filth, I wear his purity.
Prayer: My blessed Lord Jesus, thank you for trading places.