His hands were up as He starred down the barrel of the sins of the world. He couldn’t move – rather He didn‘t move – held there by fear, pain, and humiliation. Ultimately what kept Him surrendered to hate was love. Love best defined is caring without the hope or possibility of that care coming back. Love when others hate.
And that is what Jesus did on this night 2000+ years ago. Hands up – nailed to a cross. Feet kept in place by the six inch spike driven through the fleshy part of his ankles. At any point He could’ve disappeared like He did when the crowd threatened to throw Him over the cliff a few months before. But He didn’t. Because He knew it had to be done this way – for you – for me. Even when we hated Him, He loved us enough to suffer and die.
On this night, Jesus Surrendered to Hate.