Were You There?

Good Friday was quite an event in PB’s dad’s church. Seven pastors from local congregations gathered to preach on the seven last words of Jesus from the cross. Each speaker was allowed ten minutes. But if you know anything about pastors, you know ten minutes doesn’t cut it.

That service was a marathon—
a true experience of long-suffering.
It definitely was not the day to volunteer for nursery duty.

In between each message there was a hymn or special music. One year, a man with a deep baritone voice sang an old hymn with incredible depth of emotion.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh – Ooohhh – Oh.
Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

As his voice soared, my heart trembled.
For a moment, I was there.

I still find myself there, in the cast of characters that were eye-witnesses:
Malchus and Pilate and Barabbas;
Simon of Cyrene, the centurion, and the thief;
the Pharisees, Joseph of Arimathea, and Mary Magdalene.

As Holy Week approaches, I’m preparing a series of ten reflections called “Were You There?” I’ll post five of them here, from Monday, April 7 through Friday, April 11, and five more the following week, ending on Good Friday.

Come with me over the next two weeks
and see if you can’t find yourself there, too.

Today, Baseball

Today is Opening Day for the Major League Baseball season—
a national holiday in our household.

Today, we eat hotdogs.
Today, we wear our team T-shirts.
Today, we gather in front of the TV for the first pitch.

Today, all 30 Major League teams have legitimate dreams of glory.
Today, all 780 players have hopes of a break-out, record-setting season.
Today, 162 games lay before us, stretching from March to September.

Today, Dodger fans by the thousands will buy tickets starting at $144.
Today, Marlins fans by the tens will purchase tickets for $8.

Tomorrow, fifteen teams will be undefeated
and fifteen teams will have a losing record.

What a difference a day makes.

Play ball!

Rest Assured

It’s the first day of spring.

It doesn’t look like it.
It doesn’t feel like it.
But it’s the truth.
And I believe it.

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for,
the conviction of things not seen.
Hebrews 11:1

Recently I was with a friend who expressed a concern. She was worried about her faith. Did she have enough? What if she didn’t? How would she know? What would happen if she came up short? From her perspective, it didn’t look like she had enough faith. And it didn’t feel like it.

We talked it over and I reminded her that it doesn’t take much. God is happy to work with a tiny amount of faith, even as small as a mustard seed. (Matthew 17:20) She was quiet for a few moments, then said, “Well, then……..I guess I’m ok.” Yes, my dear, you are ok.

We all need a little reassurance from time to time.
We’re in good company.

When God called Moses to deliver the Israelites from bondage in Egypt, Moses was a bundle of doubts and fears. “Who am I?” “What if…?” “Suppose…?” “Why? Why? Why?” He finished with, “Please send someone else.” (Exodus 3-5)

When God called Gideon to lead an army against his enemies, Gideon whined, “But, why…?” “But, how…?” “But…me?” Then he put God through a string of tests, just to be absolutely sure he heard from the Almighty correctly. (Judges 6)

Even John the Baptist had his doubts. John—who introduced Jesus as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29) John—the one who witnessed a voice from heaven declaring, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” (Matt. 3:17) This same John sent a message to Jesus, “So, are you the one or should we look for someone else?” (Matt. 11:2)

These heroes of the faith needed assurance. They hadn’t gone off the rails or shipwrecked their long-held beliefs. They just needed to be reminded of truth they already knew down deep.

On those days when doubts and fears creep in,
turn to the Word of Truth.
And rest assured.

Today is the first day of spring.
It doesn’t look like it.
It doesn’t feel like it.
But it’s the truth.
And I believe it.