Nowhere have I seen a King who would die for His people. A God who would leave His throne and in perfect humility serve those who would eventually nail Him onto a tree. We have pierced the hands which created the stars and the mountains and the seas. How beautiful the love of God, how extravagant His compassion. He came not to be served, but to serve. He came for the blind and the lame and the sick. He came to set people free. He came and painted for us the love of God in the most breathtaking way–upon a cross, with His own blood. The cross, where the most earth-shattering exchange took place, where the Son of God became sin for us so that we can be covered in His perfect righteousness–a violent collision of man’s wickedness and God’s holiness. Christ becoming sin; the Father turning away from Him. The wrath of God being poured out upon the Son so that we didn’t have to taste any of it. Christ absorbed all bitterness of the violent collision upon that cross, and buried it with Him; three days later overcoming death and proving Himself to be mightier and more victorious than the sting of sin and the powers of darkness.
This is the gospel. When we couldn’t come to God, God came to us, and opened up the way to Heaven through the death and resurrection of a Son.