The closest I have ever come to wearing a crown is at Christmas time, when we don the paper crowns that come out of the crackers. I find them a little annoying at times, mainly because they don't always fit so nicely. After a while, I usually take them off, as they also start to make my forehead sweat, but at least I have a choice to put them to one side.
Jesus didn't have that choice. And the crown he was forced to wear was not made of paper.
"Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face." - John 19:1-3
A crown that was hastily put together.
A crown that wasn't intended to be a perfect fit, but rather stayed on his head because the thorns stuck into his skull.
A crown intended to hurt and to shame.
A crown that mocked Jesus' claim to be King.
Despite the evil intentions of the soldiers, Jesus continued to wear the crown, knowing that indeed he was a King. He probably wasn't even able to adjust it, to make it more comfortable. When his brow ran with blood and sweat, Jesus had no option to discard the thorns.
In silence and pain, he bore their jeers and taunting - all because he knew a greater purpose was being fulfilled. And this was all for me.
Thought: "How could I bear a crown of gold when the Lord bears a crown of thorns? And bears it for me!" - Elizabeth of HungaryLiving in Grace
D3LM3
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