First off, I just want to take a few lines to acknowledge the sacredness of this day, Good Friday, that marks the death of our Lord. Jesus, may I always remember your sacrifice and continue to feel the gravity of your pain and excruciating suffering in my place. You save me every day.
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I have a starring role in an orchestral-ish presentation of the Easter story this weekend. Okay, so maybe it's not exactly a starring role...okay, really, it's not even important enough to make the cast picture. (Although there have been jokes about my inclusion in said picture.) I'm the page turner. Literally. That's all I do. Turn pages so that my Dad, the guitarist, can play fluidly. Those of you who know my music history can imagine my lingering issues with my role in this story. Anyhow, what does this have to do with 7?!
As I sat in the orchestra pit last night during dress rehearsal, (yes, I had to practice page turning) I experienced something that was 7 blog-worthy. This particular Easter account is told from the perspective of the Sanhedrin Council, and we see, through the eyes of Joseph of Arimethea, how the council begins to form a plan to crush the Jesus movement that was sweeping their nation. We watch Jesus fully overturn the traditions of these religious leaders. We see Him begin a movement from the bottom. He did not seek to be-friend those who were considered high in their culture. Instead, he stood beside the lowest of the low and won their affection with His kindness. In Jesus, those who were hurting found hope. This was so counter-culture. The religious leaders were furious. As I watched the Council form their plan to kill Jesus, I literally fought the urge to get out of my chair and to tell them, "Stop! This is Jesus! He just loves people! That's it." I wanted to come to His rescue. (How ironic, because He was coming to mine.) Instead, I sat sick in my chair knowing that my voice would probably have been heard in agreement with the Council not long ago. Jesus was revolutionary! He told rich people to sell everything they owned and follow Him. He told His disciples to leave everything they worked for and follow Him. That freaks me out.
This has been nearly impossible for me to work through. I've held onto my lifestyle for so long, sincerely believing that Jesus can't possibly expect me to give it all up...and, if He does, hoping that He'll show mercy on me and understand my place in this culture. But, Jesus calls us to follow Him, and we just can't bring our stuff on the journey. It couldn't be any more clear. Let it sink in. We have to choose...Jesus or Riches. Sometimes, I'd rather try to fit through the eye of a needle.
Certainly, I'm aware of the fact that Jesus, on stage, was really Mr. Cox with a flowing wig and fake blood. But, last night, as I sat with tears running down my cheeks (when I was actually supposed to be turning pages), I watched my Jesus die in my place...because "following Him" looks much differently on my terms than it does on Jesus' terms. I feel this overhaul in my heart...like, the down deep feeling that something's brewing, that something's happening in my soul. It's like, I'm either going to make changes or live in regret for not doing so? I feel like if I walk away from this, I'll personally break the heart of my Lord. I don't know how to eloquently show you what's happening right now, but I promised you candidness on my 7 journey. So, there it is. Funny what a little page turning'll do for ya.
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