Easter is a week from tomorrow.
Which means that tomorrow is Palm Sunday.
Which means Thursday is Maundy Thursday.
Which means Friday is Good Friday.
Do you know the paintings of Jesus? You may not have seen all of them, but I'm sure you've seen 'The Last Supper' by Leonardo DaVinci. If not, It's pictured below:
Jesus is the one in the very center. He's the one I want you to picture when I tell this story. So, take a nice hard look at him.This is what artists think that Jesus looks like; long, brown hair. A beard. My dad looks similar; long brown hair, beard. They both have brown eyes as well. I've always thought that my daddy looked kind of like Jesus -at least what Earthly artists think He looks like.
When I was about three or four, my mom joined a group at our church called "Women Who Sing". It consisted of six to eight women from the congregation who would sing on some Sundays and on some of the "special" services. (i.e. Good Friday, Christmas Eve.) They were going to do a song at the Good Friday service that year.
I don't know who thought of it, but someone decided it'd be a good idea to have "Jesus" hanging from the cross while the song was sung. (I'm pretty sure that two other people hung him, too, but I can't remember.) That same person, or maybe another person, evidently thought that Dad looked like Jesus, too. So, he/she asked Dad to be "Jesus" and "hang" from the Cross while Women Who Sing sung their song.
Since my mom was in Women Who Sing, I was dragged along to rehearsal with my parents. I'd been to a few other rehearsals in my time, simply because Mom had no place for me to go. I didn't really think anything of it; that and the fact that I was, like, four.
When Dad stepped up to the Cross and stretched his arms out, closed his eyes, and didn't move, I started crying. THEY WERE KILLING MY DADDY!!! I actually thought that the people at the church were crucifying my dad. It hurt me more than anything, to think that Dad was dying. Now that I think about it, it'd be a pretty horrific way to die.
In his sermon tonight, Pastor Mark told a story about a reenactment of the crucifixion he'd heard of. Basically, it was a drama that a church put on, utilizing the youth pastor as Jesus. The youth were the jeering crowd. Pastor Mark tells that the group dragged the youth pastor, "Jesus" out and "hung" him on the cross. The pastor that witnessed this said he saw a girl, standing at the front of the group, tears streaming down her face. "For her, it was the real thing. She was there." He said.
How scary would it be to picture someone you care about A LOT or someone you LOVE being crucified on a Cross? To picture that same person doing what Jesus did for you and me? I've seen it, I've heard it, and trust me. You never want to.
Even at the tender age of four, I was scared. I didn't want him to die. It felt REAL. Even though it wasn't. The same thing happened with the teenage girl.
I don't really know what the moral of this story is. But every year, about this time, I always remember. I just felt like I needed to share it.
PeAcE,
M
