Not One Bone Broken
By Shery Abdelmalak
The climax of the greatest love story ever told with the ultimate sacrifice of the most perfect Bridegroom. Every moment of human history came down to this one fateful day. The final covenant between God and His creation, a promise of salvation and freedom for the faithful.
Every little detail on this day had profound meaning and a tremendous cost. Nothing was by accident, all the prophecies led to this final moment of the Lord’s crucifixion. Our God, the author of Love, orchestrated every little detail to show us His Love truly knows no bounds. While there were moments that seemed unnecessarily harsh, these were glimpses into His everlasting love. For it was in His affliction that we hear His call, “I am my beloved’s, And my beloved is mine” (Song of Solomon 6:3).
The Jews were relentless, but they stopped short in one instance. When they went to break the legs of the crucified, they found that Jesus had breathed His last and there was no need. Some early church fathers have contemplated the question, why the legs? Why not the head, for a swift death? Breaking the legs caused the greatest pain, while speeding up death slightly. They wanted them to die faster, but not without pain. They needed the bodies to be taken down before the Passover so that the stench of the dead bodies did not defile the atmosphere. God-forbid they appeared to be an unclean nation. They were completely blinded to reality and fixated on an honourable appearance, and so, our Bridegroom still had more ways of showing His love to soften even the hardest hearts.
To their surprise, Christ had died already. Could it be that this was a sacrificial death? Could He really be the Saviour they had waited for? We know He died out of free will, out of love. This was His choice to grant us freedom. By His death, He overcame death so that it could no longer have dominion over us. Through His victory in love, He gave up His Spirit at a time He chose, at the fulfilment of all the prophecies, and not at the expected time.
The Jews knew their prophecies and maybe it was in this moment that they recalled the sacrifice the Israelites offered in remembrance of their freedom from the Egyptians. The one sacrifice that the Lord commanded, “nor shall you break one of its bones” (Ex 12:46), was Christ the sacrifice of freedom;
He guards all his bones; Not one of them is broken. – Ps. 34:20
If Christ had endured the height of suffering already, why stop at the breaking of bones? Beyond the prophecies, there is more the Bridegroom has to offer to you and I, His bride. We are the bones of Christ. We may endure suffering, but we do not break away from Him. We remain in Christ and by His stripes we are healed (Is. 53:5). For it was in the crucifixion that we were freed from the death of sin and united with Christ for eternity, so how could any one of His bones be broken?
We may leave Christ, but Christ will never leave us. There were so many signs, calling out to the hardest of hearts. When we look upon the hidden brokenness of the heart, the pain almost physical yet unseen. The brokenness we experience, caused by our own accord or otherwise, represents a detachment from the Bridegroom.
When a bone is broken, modern medicine teaches us that it will never be as strong as it was before. If you repeatedly break the same bone, extra precautions are taken to prevent future breakages. To protect a heart that has been broken, we harden its surroundings, we don’t let people in, just in case it breaks in the same way it broke before – just in case that the next time it breaks, it is beyond repair.
Don’t show love. Don’t show weakness. Don’t show any sign of humanity that can lead to being hurt.
‘There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.’
C.S. Lewis
That is option one.
Option two, the option that Christ gives us on the Cross – choose love. Choose love that breaks. When a broken heart is given to God, He heals it so that it is stronger than it ever was before.
“I am dark, but lovely” (Song of Solomon 1:5). I may be tainted by mistakes, sin, brokenness, but this does not cause God to love me any less. On the contrary, He calls for the one lost sheep among the hundred. For every mistake I make and the subsequent hurt I feel, He heals my heart, He makes me capable of loving more than I ever could before. He helps me fight the reflex to harden against things that hurt me. To harden against pain is to choose a bandaid over the healing Hands of God. He can only heal wounds that are given to Him as they are, as wretched as they may be. May we always remember that on Good Friday, Christ endured all suffering but did not allow His bones to be broken, He did not allow His children to be broken away from Him. There is no hurt too great that He cannot repair.
Our brokenness is a calling to love, to be reunited with Christ in repentance. When we come back to Christ in repentance, we are not just healed, but renewed. Let it break, let it be renewed, for this is the purpose of His Crucifixion. On the day of Resurrection, we are renewed. We put to death all that leaves us feeling broken and we prepare to be risen in Christ.
“A broken and a contrite heart, these O God, You will not despise.” Ps 51:17