I came up to sit down to a bowl of Frosted Flakes, with some Strawberries to sweeten it up (as if it wasn’t sweet enough), and heard an old familiar song, Grace Flows Down off the Passion One Day Live album. Tears rushed to my eyes as I immediately remembered the importance of this day. As Good Friday is upon us, I am so overwhelmed with emotion.
The sacrifice.
The debt paid.
The pain inflicted.
The life given.
Today is the day we remember the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross for you and for me. An undeserved gift of pardon for us. Even in the story of Jesus’ trial the people there wanted to set a murderer free and sentence Jesus to death. We are that murderer, glutton, thief, liar, undeserving prisoner set free in place of Jesus the innocent.
Below is a short story from an amazing story-teller Jeff Pratt. Take a look as we reflect on Jesus’ heroic actions that we might go free today.
“I should of looked more carefully before I stepped off that sidewalk curb there in Manila, the Philippines. A Jeepney came barreling around the corner as my Samoan friend, Paulo, in an effort to protect me, through himself between me and that overstuffed means of public transport. His body was immediately thrown into a crowd of people across the street. I ran to his side and looked down on his half smiling face, and a couple of deep, bloody gashes across his chest, as he stammered in his oh so familiar accent, ” It’s no problem Jeff, a couple cuts on the belly, it’ll all be fine in a moment . . . how are you?” Then he was carried to a nearby clinic where he received much need medical care.
Imprinted forever in my memory is those moments that I would see him walk by me the next couple of days, with his shoulders hunched over a bit, so he wouldn’t rip opened the new stitches. Every time I saw him I was reminded of his sacrifice. In the moment of crisis on that street corner he hadn’t thought of himself, he thought of me. He had saved me the pain I deserved for my carelessness.
Months later Paulo returned to his homeland and I to the States, and we didn’t see each other again till there was a special Youth With A Mission gathering in Kona, Hawaii. My heart leapt with joy when I heard his voice behind me say, “Is that you Jeff?” After a crushing embrace, and a quick catch up, we scampered down to the beach like old times to body surf once again. I’ll never forget, before racing down to the ocean’s edge, the moment I glanced over to Paulo, to signal our run together. His shirt had just been taken off and my eyes fell upon the scars upon his chest. Suddenly the memory of what he had done and given, a couple years before, became fresh, new and real to me again.
Paulo I don’t know where you are in the world today. Sadly we have lost each other. However I will never forget your sacrificial love for me. Thank you my dear friend.”
Jeff Pratt
P. S. My prayer for us this Easter weekend is that we may know the present riseness of Jesus, and that the love song that echoes from an empty tomb two thousand years ago may echo within our hearts today. May we hear again the inner music of our belovedness to God, as C. S. Lewis said; “It’s a music that resembles an earlier music that men are born remembering.”
