WHAT WILL I DO-TODAY?
I talked earlier in the week asking what would I do if I lived in Jerusalem this last weekend two thousand or so years ago and Jesus came into town riding a donkey. He came in a ‘King,’ the people said, solving everyone’s issues and just a few days later, he was put to death at the chanting of those same people who laid their cloaks and palm fronds down in front of him as he road that donkey. In that writing, I asked what I would have done then. Now, I ask myself what will I do-today?
Now, it has been three days.
Today, Sunday, I wonder what I would have done then?
On this, the third day?
…I would have to know….
First, I would have to know the scriptures enough to think the three days mentioned in the Old Testament meant this three days. Assuming I did, what would I have done? Would I have gone to the tomb and beat Mary to the viewing?
No. I wouldn’t have done that.
Just like I would not have stood up in the crowd as they yelled crucify him and oppose those yelling. I like to think I would have. But I wouldn’t have.
Would I had been there waiting for him to die on the cross? Probably not. Just another false prophet and here they are, crucified like the last ones.
I would have quit him. I would have quit him early on. Everything he says I want to hear but it hurts too much because I believe it’s not true. The Son of the God of the Universe, became a guy who bleeds and feels and came here to this rock just for me? He lived in poverty and worked with his dad as a carpenter and a rabbi-a teacher?
Then spoke words he was able to tie into things I had heard all my life, but never-ever thought I would live to see it. Why-why me-why now?
If I lived back then….
If I lived back then I had one thing I wish I had now. Actually seeing—Him. The Son of God, God Himself, wanting to call me his adopted brother.
But I don’t have that.
I just have faith. Faltering as it is. Bent as it is.
But I have centuries of teaching. I have heard it if once then a thousand times “…the stone was rolled away.” In Luke 24 and Matthew 28. Oh, and there was a gaggle of Roman guards sitting in front of it.
…the last ten years….
It seems lately, like the last ten years, especially the last five or six years, I wake up even earlier on Easter Sunday, before dawn. It’s just me, the snoring dogs, and —God. We don’t speak to each other. Sometimes I sit outside. Sometimes at my desk. I make a good cup of coffee.
And we continue to not saying anything. Then, the sky begins to change. From midnight black to deep purple. I find a smile on my face. Still, we do not speak. I make another cup and look out the window and it’s getting lighter when I walk out front and look. Trees and cars and houses down the street can be seen now.
With the wisdom of age, I realize its not about me. It’s all about Him. Which, in turn, makes it all about me. He took my spot. Finding one thing—just one thing I can and would do. I would stand in the middle of my yard, with a cup of coffee, and receive the gift one more time. I already own it. He gave it to me years ago I don’t even remember when, but every year, on this morning, it’s like I get it again. It’s in the center of my chest. Right there. Living in the center of my chest. The God of the Universe. I have been his kid for years. Sometimes, I forget. Sometimes, I shake my head. But as I get older and crest the hill and look down at the finish line, still far off, I realize who I am. Just a guy, standing in his yard, watching a sunrise with his dad-one more time.