More than once I have been outside weeding and accidentally pulled up a fistful of thorns. Usually it’s a blackberry vine, though stinging nettles are not far behind on the list. Either one makes for pain and blood loss for at least a little while and I try hard to look a little closer before the next pull.
Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.” It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings. You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill. It is heat and drought tolerant. Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.
The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head. I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines. I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.
We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:
I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4. “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.” Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory. If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me. And you. Even that prickly crown.
Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others? Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties? Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter? Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one? Can I let someone else have the last word?
Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word? Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely? Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?
Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer? Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word? Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?
None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?” If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good. That’s why we sing those songs. They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.
When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns. Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.
Dene Ward
Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.” It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings. You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill. It is heat and drought tolerant. Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.
The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head. I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines. I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.
We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:
- My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. - I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. - I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now. - In mansions of glory and endless delight,
I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4. “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.” Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory. If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me. And you. Even that prickly crown.
Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others? Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties? Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter? Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one? Can I let someone else have the last word?
Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word? Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely? Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?
Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer? Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word? Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?
None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?” If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good. That’s why we sing those songs. They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.
When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns. Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.
Dene Ward
RSS Feed