Whom They Pierced

Transcript

Hello, my friend… so glad you're with me today. This is By God's Call — day 289, Whom They Pierced.

"And I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and pleas for mercy, so that, when they look on me, on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a firstborn." Zechariah 12:10.

This is one of the most mysterious and startling verses in the entire Old Testament. Notice: it's God speaking in the first person — "they will look on me, on him whom they have pierced." God, pierced? That kind of language puzzled readers for centuries, until the Gospels revealed exactly what stood behind it: John quotes this precise verse when describing the moment a spear pierced Jesus's side on the cross. The prophecy had been waiting for centuries for that exact moment.

But before we get to the mourning, notice what comes first: "I will pour out a spirit of grace and pleas for mercy." Before repentance comes a gift. God doesn't expect the people to see what they've done on their own strength — he pours out a spirit that enables them to truly see, to truly feel, to turn their hearts toward him. This is mercy working backward: God prepares the heart before he asks for the heart's response.

And then comes the look. "They will look on me." Before mourning can happen, there must be a direct look. How often do we avoid looking at what we've done, or what was done for us, because it's simply too painful? But genuine change of heart almost always begins right there — in the moment we stop looking away and face the cross head-on.

And what image does Zechariah choose to describe that mourning? Like one who mourns the loss of an only child. There is no deeper grief in human experience than that. Zechariah isn't describing a shallow sadness, a passing twinge of regret. He's describing a genuine grief, slow and full, moving through the whole chest — the kind of response the cross of Christ deserves, and one we rarely give it.

I want to ask you: when was the last time you truly looked at the cross? Not automatically, not out of memorized habit — but really, letting it land, like someone mourning an only child. The cross isn't just a religious symbol hanging on a wall. It's the place where the one pierced for us paid the price we owed.

So today, I want to invite you to set aside a few minutes — truly, without rushing — to look at the cross of Christ. Not with guilt, but with gratitude. Let that look produce in you the same spirit of grace Zechariah prophesied: a soft heart, a sensitive heart, a grateful heart.

Stay close to God. Pray — then act. I'll see you tomorrow, my friend.