He Chose the Nails
He chose the nails
Long ago, even before he made the world,
God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy
and without fault in his eyes.
His unchanging plan has always been to adopt us into
his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ.
And this gave him great pleasure.
So we praise God for the wonderful kindness he has poured
out on us because we belong to his dearly loved Son.
He is so rich in kindness that he purchased our freedom
through the blood of his Son,
and our sins are forgiven.…
God’s secret plan has now been revealed to us;
it is a plan centered on Christ,
designed long ago according to his good pleasure.
And this is his plan:
At the right time he will bring everything together
under the authority of Christ—everything in heaven and on earth. Furthermore, because of Christ,
we have received an inheritance from God,
for he chose us from the beginning,
and all things happen just as he decided long ago.
EPHESIANS 1:4–7, 9–11 NLT
He Chose the Nails
What God Did to Win Your Heart
Max Lucado
WORD PUBLISHING nashville A Thomas Nelson Company
He Chose the Nails
© 2000 Max Lucado. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations used in this book are from the Holy Bible, New Century Version, copyright © 1987, 1988, 1991 by Word Publishing, Dallas, Texas 75234. Used by permission. Those marked (nlt) are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.
Other Scripture references are from the following sources:
Max Lucado, He Chose the Nails: What God Did to Win Your Heart, electronic ed. (Nashville: Word Publishing, 2000).
Contents
Acknowledgments
1. You Did This for Me?
2. “I Will Bear Your Dark Side”
God’s Promise in the Soldiers’ Spit
3. “I Loved You Enough to Become One of You”
God’s Promise in the Crown of Thorns
4. “I Forgive You”
God’s Promise in the Nails
5. “I Will Speak to You in Your Language”
God’s Promise Through the Sign
6. “I Will Let You Choose”
God’s Promise Through the Two Crosses
7. “I Will Not Abandon You”
God’s Promise in the Path
8. “I Will Give You My Robe”
God’s Promise in the Garment
9. “I Invite You into My Presence”
God’s Promise Through the Torn Flesh
10. “I Understand Your Pain”
God’s Promise in the Wine-Soaked Sponge
11. “I Have Redeemed You and I Will Keep You”
God’s Promise in the Blood and Water
12. “I Will Love You Forever”
God’s Promise in the Cross
13. “I Can Turn Your Tragedy into Triumph”
God’s Promise in the Burial Clothing
14. “I Have Won the Victory”
God’s Promise in the Empty Tomb
15. What Will You Leave at the Cross?
Final Words
Study Guide
Max Lucado, He Chose the Nails: What God Did to Win Your Heart, electronic ed. (Nashville: Word Publishing, 2000).
1
You Did This for ME?
The gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
ROMANS 6:23 NIV
Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!
2 CORINTHIANS 9:15 NIV
And God has reserved for his children the priceless gift of eternal life; it is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay. And God, in his mighty power, will make sure that you get there safely to receive it, because you are trusting him. It will be yours in that coming last day for all to see.
1 PETER 1:4–5 TLB
Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created.
JAMES 1:17–18 NIV
He deserves our compassion. When you see him, do not laugh. Do not mock. Do not turn away or shake your head. Just gently lead him to the nearest bench and help him sit down.
Have pity on the man. He is so fearful, so wide-eyed. He’s a deer on the streets of Manhattan. Tarzan walking through the urban jungle. He’s a beached whale, wondering how he got here and how he’ll get out.
Who is this forlorn creature? This ashen-faced orphan? He is—please remove your hats out of respect—he is the man in the women’s department. Looking for a gift.
The season may be Christmas. The occasion may be her birthday or their anniversary. Whatever the motive, he has come out of hiding. Leaving behind his familiar habitat of sporting goods stores, food courts, and the big-screen television in the appliance department, he ventures into the unknown world of women’s wear. You’ll spot him easily. He’s the motionless one in the aisle. Were it not for the sweat rings under his arms, you’d think he was a mannequin.
But he isn’t. He is a man in a woman’s world, and he’s never seen so much underwear. At the Wal-Mart where he buys his, it’s all wrapped up and fits on one shelf. But here he is in a forest of lace. His father warned him about places like this. Though the sign above says “linger-ie,” he knows he shouldn’t.
So he moves on, but he doesn’t know where to go. You see, not every man has been prepared for this moment as I was. My father saw the challenge of shopping for women as a rite of passage, right in there with birds and bees and tying neckties. He taught my brother and me how to survive when we shopped. I can remember the day he sat us down and taught us two words. To get around in a foreign country, you need to know the language, and my father taught us the language of the ladies’ department.
“There will come a time,” he said solemnly, “when a salesperson will offer to help you. At that moment take a deep breath and say this phrase, ‘Es-tée Lau-der.’” On every gift-giving occasion for years after, my mom received three gifts from the three men in her life: Estée Lauder, Estée Lauder, and Estée Lauder.
My fear of the women’s department was gone. But then I met Denalyn. Denalyn doesn’t like Estée Lauder. Though I told her it made her smell motherly, she didn’t change her mind. I’ve been in a bind ever since.
This year for her birthday I opted to buy her a dress. When the salesperson asked me Denalyn’s size, I said I didn’t know. I honestly don’t. I know I can wrap my arm around her and that her hand fits nicely in mine. But her dress size? I never inquired. There are certain questions a man doesn’t ask.
The woman tried to be helpful. “How does she compare to me?” Now, I was taught to be polite to women, but I couldn’t be polite and answer that question. There was only one answer, “She is thinner.”
I stared at my feet, looking for a reply. After all, I write books. Surely I could think of the right words.
I considered being direct: “She is less of you.”
Or complimentary: “You are more of a woman than she is.”
Perhaps a hint would suffice? “I hear the store is downsizing.”
Finally I swallowed and said the only thing I knew to say, “Estée Lauder?”
She pointed me in the direction of the perfume department, but I knew better than to enter. I would try the purses. Thought it would be easy. What could be complicated about selecting a tool for holding cards and money? I’ve used the same money clip for eight years. What would be difficult about buying a purse?
Oh, naive soul that I am. Tell an attendant in the men’s department that you want a wallet, and you’re taken to a small counter next to the cash register. Your only decision is black or brown. Tell an attendant in the ladies’ department that you want a purse, and you are escorted to a room. A room of shelves. Shelves with purses. Purses with price tags. Small but potent price tags … prices so potent they should remove the need for a purse, right?
I was pondering this thought when the salesperson asked me some questions. Questions for which I had no answer. “What kind of purse would your wife like?” My blank look told her I was clueless, so she began listing the options: “Handbag? Shoulder bag? Glove bag? Backpack? Shoulder pack? Change purse?”
Dizzied by the options, I had to sit down and put my head between my knees lest I faint. Didn’t stop her. Leaning over me, she continued, “Moneybag? Tote bag? Pocketbook? Satchel?”
“Satchel?” I perked up at the sound of a familiar word. Satchel Paige pitched in the major leagues. This must be the answer. I straightened my shoulders and said proudly, “Satchel.”
Apparently she didn’t like my answer. She began to curse at me in a foreign language. Forgive me for relating her vulgarity, but she was very crude. I didn’t understand all she said, but I do know she called me a “Dooney Bird” and threatened to “brighten” me with a spade that belonged to someone named Kate. When she laid claim to “our mawny,” I put my hand over the wallet in my hip pocket and defied, “No, it’s my money.” That was enough. I got out of there as fast as I could. But as I left the room, I gave her a bit of her own medicine. “Estée Lauder!” I shouted and ran as fast as I could.
Oh, the things we do to give gifts to those we love.
But we don’t mind, do we? We would do it all again. Fact is, we do it all again. Every Christmas, every birthday, every so often we find ourselves in foreign territory. Grownups are in toy stores. Dads are in teen stores. Wives are in the hunting department, and husbands are in the purse department.
Not only do we enter unusual places, we do unusual things. We assemble bicycles at midnight. We hide the new tires with mag wheels under the stairs. One fellow I heard about rented a movie theater so he and his wife could see their wedding pictures on their anniversary.
And we’d do it all again. Having pressed the grapes of service, we drink life’s sweetest wine—the wine of giving. We are at our best when we are giving. In fact, we are most like God when we are giving.
Have you ever wondered why God gives so much? We could exist on far less. He could have left the world flat and gray; we wouldn’t have known the difference. But he didn’t.
He splashed orange in the sunrise
and cast the sky in blue.
And if you love to see geese as they gather,
chances are you’ll see that too.
Did he have to make the squirrel’s tail furry?
Was he obliged to make the birds sing?
And the funny way that chickens scurry
or the majesty of thunder when it rings?
Why give a flower fragrance? Why give food its taste?
Could it be
he loves to see
that look upon your face?
If we give gifts to show our love, how much more would he? If we—speckled with foibles and greed—love to give gifts, how much more does God, pure and perfect God, enjoy giving gifts to us? Jesus asked, “If you hardhearted, sinful men know how to give good gifts to your children, won’t your Father in heaven even more certainly give good gifts to those who ask him for them?” (Matt. 7:11 TLB).
God’s gifts shed light on God’s heart, God’s good and generous heart. Jesus’ brother James tells us: “Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven. The gifts are rivers of light cascading down from the Father of Light” (James 1:17 MSG). Every gift reveals God’s love … but no gift reveals his love more than the gifts of the cross. They came, not wrapped in paper, but in passion. Not placed around a tree, but a cross. And not covered with ribbons, but sprinkled with blood.
The gifts of the cross.
Much has been said about the gift of the cross itself, but what of the other gifts? What of the nails, the crown of thorns? The garments taken by the soldiers. The garments given for the burial. Have you taken time to open these gifts?
He didn’t have to give them, you know. The only act, the only required act for our salvation was the shedding of blood, yet he did much more. So much more. Search the scene of the cross, and what do you find?
A wine-soaked sponge.
A sign.
Two crosses beside Christ.
Divine gifts intended to stir that moment, that split second when your face will brighten, your eyes will widen, and God will hear you whisper, “You did this for me?”
The diadem of pain
which sliced your gentle face,
three spikes piercing flesh and wood
to hold you in your place.
The need for blood I understand.
Your sacrifice I embrace.
But the bitter sponge, the cutting spear,
the spit upon your face?
Did it have to be a cross?
Did not a kinder death exist
than six hours hanging between life and death,
all spurred by a betrayer’s kiss?
“Oh, Father,” you pose,
heart-stilled at what could be,
“I’m sorry to ask, but I long to know,
did you do this for me?”
Dare we pray such a prayer? Dare we think such thoughts? Could it be that the hill of the cross is rich with God’s gifts? Let’s examine them, shall we? Let’s unwrap these gifts of grace as if—or perhaps, indeed—for the first time. And as you touch them—as you feel the timber of the cross and trace the braid of the crown and finger the point of the spike—pause and listen. Perchance you will hear him whisper:
“I did it just for you.”
Max Lucado, He Chose the Nails: What God Did to Win Your Heart, electronic ed. (Nashville: Word Publishing, 2000), ix–9.
6
“I Will Let You Choose”
God’s Promise Through the Two Crosses
There Jesus was nailed to the cross, and on each side of him a man was also nailed to a cross.
John 19:18 cev
The prison has been stormed, and the gates of the prison have been opened, but unless we leave our prison cells and go forward into the light of freedom, we are still unredeemed in actuality.
Donald Bloesch
On the wood of the Cross the world was saved all at once, and whoever is lost loses himself, because he will not receive the Saviour, because he falls again and repeats the fall of Adam.
Count Nikolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf
Meet Edwin Thomas, a master of the stage. During the latter half of the 1800s, this small man with the huge voice had few rivals. Debuting in Richard III at the age of fifteen, he quickly established himself as a premier Shakespearean actor. In New York he performed Hamlet for one hundred consecutive nights. In London he won the approval of the tough British critics. When it came to tragedy on the stage, Edwin Thomas was in a select group.
When it came to tragedy in life, the same could be said as well.
Edwin had two brothers, John and Junius. Both were actors, although neither rose to his stature. In 1863, the three siblings united their talents to perform Julius Caesar. The fact that Edwin’s brother John took the role of Brutus was an eerie harbinger of what awaited the brothers—and the nation—two years hence.
For this John who played the assassin in Julius Caesar is the same John who took the role of assassin in Ford’s Theatre. On a crisp April night in 1865, he stole quietly into the rear of a box in the Washington theater and fired a bullet at the head of Abraham Lincoln. Yes, the last name of the brothers was Booth—Edwin Thomas Booth and John Wilkes Booth.
Edwin was never the same after that night. Shame from his brother’s crime drove him into retirement. He might never have returned to the stage had it not been for a twist of fate at a New Jersey train station. Edwin was awaiting his coach when a well-dressed young man, pressed by the crowd, lost his footing and fell between the platform and a moving train. Without hesitation, Edwin locked a leg around a railing, grabbed the man, and pulled him to safety. After the sighs of relief, the young man recognized the famous Edwin Booth.
Edwin, however, didn’t recognize the young man he’d rescued. That knowledge came weeks later in a letter, a letter he carried in his pocket to the grave. A letter from General Adams Budeau, chief secretary to General Ulysses S. Grant. A letter thanking Edwin Booth for saving the life of the child of an American hero, Abraham Lincoln. How ironic that while one brother killed the president, the other brother saved the president’s son. The boy Edwin Booth yanked to safety? Robert Todd Lincoln.
Edwin and James Booth. Same father, mother, profession, and passion—yet one chooses life, the other, death. How could it happen? I don’t know, but it does. Though their story is dramatic, it’s not unique.
Abel and Cain, both sons of Adam. Abel chooses God. Cain chooses murder. And God lets him.
Abraham and Lot, both pilgrims in Canaan. Abraham chooses God. Lot chooses Sodom. And God lets him.
David and Saul, both kings of Israel. David chooses God. Saul chooses power. And God lets him.
Peter and Judas, both deny their Lord. Peter seeks mercy. Judas seeks death. And God lets him.
In every age of history, on every page of Scripture, the truth is revealed: God allows us to make our own choices.
And no one delineates this more clearly than Jesus. According to him, we can choose:
a narrow gate or a wide gate (Matt. 7:13–14)
a narrow road or a wide road (Matt. 7:13–14)
the big crowd or the small crowd (Matt. 7:13–14)
We can choose to:
build on rock or sand (Matt. 7:24–27)
serve God or riches (Matt. 6:24)
be numbered among the sheep or the goats (Matt. 25:32–33)
“Then they [those who rejected God] will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life” (Matt. 25:46 niv).
God gives eternal choices, and these choices have eternal consequences.
Isn’t this the reminder of Calvary’s trio? Ever wonder why there were two crosses next to Christ? Why not six or ten? Ever wonder why Jesus was in the center? Why not on the far right or far left? Could it be that the two crosses on the hill symbolize one of God’s greatest gifts? The gift of choice.
The two criminals have so much in common. Convicted by the same system. Condemned to the same death. Surrounded by the same crowd. Equally close to the same Jesus. In fact, they begin with the same sarcasm: “The two criminals also said cruel things to Jesus” (Matt. 27:44 cev).
But one changed.
One of the criminals on a cross began to shout insults at Jesus: “Aren’t you the Christ? Then save yourself and us.” But the other criminal stopped him and said, “You should fear God! You are getting the same punishment he is. We are punished justly, getting what we deserve for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus said to him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:39–43)
Much has been said about the prayer of the penitent thief, and it certainly warrants our admiration. But while we rejoice at the thief who changed, dare we forget the one who didn’t? What about him, Jesus? Wouldn’t a personal invitation be appropriate? Wouldn’t a word of persuasion be timely?
Does not the shepherd leave the ninety-nine sheep and pursue the one lost? Does not the housewife sweep the house until the lost coin is found? Yes, the shepherd does, the housewife does, but the father of the prodigal, remember, does nothing.
The sheep was lost innocently.
The coin was lost irresponsibly.
But the prodigal son left intentionally.
The father gave him the choice. Jesus gave both criminals the same.
There are times when God sends thunder to stir us. There are times when God sends blessings to lure us. But then there are times when God sends nothing but silence as he honors us with the freedom to choose where we spend eternity.
And what an honor it is! In so many areas of life we have no choice. Think about it. You didn’t choose your gender. You didn’t choose your siblings. You didn’t choose your race or place of birth.
Sometimes our lack of choices angers us. “It’s not fair,” we say. It’s not fair that I was born in poverty or that I sing so poorly or that I run so slowly. But the scales of life were forever tipped on the side of fairness when God planted a tree in the Garden of Eden. All complaints were silenced when Adam and his descendants were given free will, the freedom to make whatever eternal choice we desire. Any injustice in this life is offset by the honor of choosing our destiny in the next.
Wouldn’t you agree? Would you have wanted otherwise? Would you have preferred the opposite? You choose everything in this life, and he chooses where you spend the next? You choose the size of your nose, the color of your hair, and your DNA structure, and he chooses where you spend eternity? Is that what you would prefer?
It would have been nice if God had let us order life like we order a meal. I’ll take good health and a high IQ. I’ll pass on the music skills, but give me a fast metabolism … Would’ve been nice. But it didn’t happen. When it came to your life on earth, you weren’t given a voice or a vote.
But when it comes to life after death, you were. In my book that seems like a good deal. Wouldn’t you agree?
Have we been given any greater privilege than that of choice? Not only does this privilege offset any injustice, the gift of free will can offset any mistakes.
Think about the thief who repented. Though we know little about him, we know this: He made some bad mistakes in life. He chose the wrong crowd, the wrong morals, the wrong behavior. But would you consider his life a waste? Is he spending eternity reaping the fruit of all the bad choices he made? No, just the opposite. He is enjoying the fruit of the one good choice he made. In the end all his bad choices were redeemed by a solitary good one.
You’ve made some bad choices in life, haven’t you? You’ve chosen the wrong friends, maybe the wrong career, even the wrong spouse. You look back over your life and say, “If only … if only I could make up for those bad choices.” You can. One good choice for eternity offsets a thousand bad ones on earth.
The choice is yours.
How can two brothers be born of the same mother, grow up in the same home, and one choose life and the other choose death? I don’t know, but they do.
How could two men see the same Jesus and one choose to mock him and the other choose to pray to him? I don’t know, but they did.
And when one prayed, Jesus loved him enough to save him. And when the other mocked, Jesus loved him enough to let him.
He allowed him the choice.
He does the same for you.
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