Linens
Linens are the clothes we put on to cover our skin, protecting us from the cold of winter and refreshing us in the heat of summer. They are the fabric we use to cover our beds, enveloping our bodies as we rest from a hard day’s work. They welcome us into morning filled with refreshed bodies and new mercies.
At times finely sewn with the finesse of an artist ablaze. Adorning us with a softness that gives comfort as life sweetly sits with us. Woven with the moments that fill our lungs with breath and bring life to our souls. The patterns sewn with purpose to celebrate the goodness of the day. The design stamped into place with care to commemorate the union of friendship nighttime brings.
Other times coarsely tied together with the crudeness of a toddler stringing a guitar. Covering us quickly as life hurries around us. Stained with the moments that catch our breath and take life away. The frayed ends smeared with dirt filled tears running off our face as we lay in the mud of our broken bodies. The knotted seams blackened by the tar of life that sludges our hearts and sticks to our steps of sorrow.
In our state of breathlessness These stained linens are ripped off our bodies.
Stripped from us as we walk with feet broken by our mistakes. Torn away by the weight of the world’s darkness as we run. Removed in haste by our tear filled hands as we stand looking into the mirror of our sorrow.
The grime and stench holding our steps past the point of rest as we slip onto the brink of death. Death of our joy. Death of our goodness and light. Death of our calling and mission. Linens ripped off because we would rather stand naked in shame than in the muck of what is stealing life from our heart and soul.
And a young man followed him, with nothing but a linen cloth about his body. And they seized him, but he left the linen cloth and ran away naked. — Mark 14:51-52
But standing naked in shame is not how our life was designed to be lived.
Our stained linens do not remain on the ground. They are handed over to The One who was sent to put them on to conquer the death of our souls. Our Savior Jesus chose to take off His finely woven, perfectly clean clothes so we could wrap the shame and muck stealing life from us around Him. In His sacrifice, He became encased in death by us.
And Joseph bought a linen shroud, and taking him down, wrapped him in the linen shroud and laid him in a tomb that had been cut out of the rock. — Mark 15:46
Sinners binding our frayed edges and tar-filled knots onto The One who was once perfectly dressed in linens unstained. He remains still as we wrap the fabric around Him. Lovingly taking on our stained linens. Freeing our bodies to be covered by His unstained robe: so pure it is a white brighter than light. His finely woven, unstained white robe never dirtied by the ground of earth. No longer covering the body of our Perfect Savior, it was given to us to put on. His linens removing our shame, healing our brokenness, and breathing life into our souls.
And Jesus was transfigured before Peter, James, and John and his clothes became radiant, intensely white, as no one on earth could bleach them. — Mark 9:2-3
Because of Jesus being bound by our sin, we are no longer left standing in our shame of nakedness.
We are clothed in His robe of goodness and light. His linens, now on our body, cover us with His grace and mercy as we walk through our new life. The moments taking our breath away no longer stain us, but mark us with joy. They remind us we are clothed by The One who loves us so much, He allowed Himself to be wrapped in our torn linens then died so we could live.
And entering the tomb, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, dressed in a white robe, and they were alarmed. And he said to them, “Do not be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here.” — Mark 16:5-6
His perfect robe stays crisp and clean on our skin redeeming us into a new life.
Our muck no longer carried with us. The dirt still present, blows off like dust in the wind instead of smearing grime into our frayed edges. The tar still black, rolls off like water over a rock instead of sealing our seams with sludge filled knots.
The celebrations still present, become sweeter. Our tears of happiness stamp pure designs on His bright cloth. The sorrows still present, cease to stain us. Our tears of sadness weave new white patterns into His unblemished linen. Marking all our moments with His love, the threads joyfully embellish the robe He gave us to wear as new life overflows from our soul.
Both tears stamp us with the beauty of The Artist who wove this whole story together. Beginning with coarsely sewn leaves covering Adam and Eve and ending with God covering our naked skin with His perfectly woven robe, He is saving His whole broken world, one ripped off stained linen at a time.
With His robe Jesus has given us an eternity of joy-filled take our breath away moments.
Friday was the day we laid in the dirt and sat in the tar, full of sin we did not yet see. Saturday was the space in the middle, our bodies standing naked with Jesus wrapped in the stained linens of our shame and sin. Today is the day we celebrate new life. We rejoice because we no longer stand naked in shame. We are wrapped in His finely woven perfectly clean linens. Our sin no longer sludges our souls because Jesus has shared his eternal life with us!