It Should Have Been Me.
Rom 6:3-5 Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection:
Being a preacher had it's "perks". It was not all suffering and sacrifice. Do you remember the movie "The Passion of Christ" directed by Mel Gibson? It came out in 2004 and turned out to be a blockbuster. May I hasten to say that there were parts of it that I didn't understand. I surmise that they were drawn from some esoteric tradition; not Biblical; but the treatment of Jesus during His arrest, trial, and crucifixion was probably more realistic than other passion stories I have seen.
Before it came out, all of us preachers in the area were invited to a "sneak preview" at a local theatre. The place was packed with over 200 of us. There are only 165 churches of all denominations in our county, so some probably came from far away. It was uncharacteristically quiet as the movie ran. During the crucifixion scene I heard gasps and some weeping. Also odd; when the movie ended, there was not a sound from the audience. All solemnly stood and began to file out in an orderly fashion. What happened next was spontaneous and a bit eerie. No one left the theatre. All stood in the lobby. Men who didn't know one another began to talk. Then there were groups of 3, 4, 6. I sauntered from group to group, curious as to what the topics of conversation were.
You must understand that preachers have a hard time getting serious when they are together. It is loud. There is usually a lot of noise coming from professionally trained voices that carry and echo. Lots of laughing and joking. There was none of that here. Everything was hushed and there were no smiles. A lot of furrowed brows and staring at the gaudy carpet, the shaking of heads, tears.
Here was the recurring theme of the conversations: "IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!" Priests, Protestants, Pentecostals, Pastors, and just plain old preachers; high flyers and nobodies; local televangelists and bivocational strugglers with grease on their hands; shepherds of thousands and shepherds of a handful. The movie was shown on the Friday before Resurrection Sunday. Normally our spellbinding Easter sermons that would "wow" our paritioners and put us on the map would have been at the front of our thoughts; but for a few brief moments we were stunned and staggered like boxers, by a blow that caught us squarely on the jaw. There was no posturing or thinly veiled vying for prominence as is common at clergy gatherings. Any fragrance of pretentious cologne was mixed with the odor of perspiration. I, as usual, was pretentiously unpretentious. One theme had captured us: "It should have been me!" All the pomp and pompadours, thoroughly ringed fingers; all the backward collars, all the differences of opinion; all the smug, supposed doctrinal superiority and erudition and preferred titles were, for a blessed moment on that "Good Friday" nine years ago, a million miles away. "It should have been me!" That golden nugget of overarching truth bowed every haughty head. One man said with clenched fists and gritted teeth, "I just wanted to go up there and take Him down and have them nail me there in His place!" This was no self ingratiating rhetoric. It burst forth from waxen bowels. Gradually we all left and got into our fuel efficient rusted out little conveyances and went our separate ways, and things were different for quite a while after that.
We were reduced to a common denominator. We were jerked unceremoniously back to our roots. We were reminded of that first blush of motive that began to steer us toward our respective careers. The Master of ocean and earth and skies....bare, bruised, bleeding; doing something that we couldn't do for ourselves. We came thinking we had plenty, and left in a grinding, humiliating poverty of the soul. We left to gird ourselves about with a towel and to get down on our knees and wash feet.
When Jesus had set His face toward Jerusalem for the last time on earth (and be assured He will set His face that way again) I think some of his disciples thought He had a death wish. He had just restored Lazarus from a state of miasmic decrepitude and incited the furor of His enemies to white heat. He was walking into a buzz saw and they knew it. Some thought they may become collateral damage. Thomas said, and I don't believe in a noble way, John 11:15b Let us also go, that we may die with him . I believe it was a tongue in cheek rebuke of His master's seemingly "bulletproof" bravado. But isn't that the first decision anyone who wants to be a follower has to make? Didn't He say, Matt 10:39 He that findeth his life shall lose it : and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it. Did He not turn the rich man away, saying, Matt 19:21 If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come and follow me. ? Jesus didn't spurn him because he was rich; the scriptures say He loved him. He knew this man had some dying to do before he could ever live. And so do we all.
I remember a TV ad for some menopause medicine that had a frustrated daughter yelling at her mother: "Mother! Please! I can do it myself!" We seem to want that from the day we are born. Even as little children when trying to do a task that is above our heads; someone reaches down to help and we jerk it away. "No! Me do!" You know it is a matter of pride. Perish the thought that we should display a vulnerability to someone else! "I am a rock! I am an island!"
Remember that scene in Samaria at the well: A hot, bedraggled, thirsty, hungry, utterly exhausted Lord of the universe beseeches a prostitute for a drink of water (water that He created, by the way). Water that no one is making any more of. The same molecules that quenched His parched throat that day may have fallen upon you as rain today. Who made the Sun to lift it into the Heavens where the cool upper reaches would purify and condense it and let it fall again, and again, and again; and yet He is in need.
You are in need and I am in need. There is a man in South America that has himself crucified every Easter season. He has himself scourged and crowned with thorns; nails driven through his hands and feet and languishes on a cross for a few hours before they take him down. He heals enough to do it again the next year. I don't go to that extreme but I certainly understand why he does it. The preachers in the theatre foyer came nose to nose with their desperate need. Certainly we cannot turn back the hands of time and carry His cross like Simon. I'm not sure Simon wanted to then. For all he knew, this was just another insurrectionist getting what he deserved. Little did Simon know that his name would be forever etched into the pages of history as one to be extolled for easing the burden of our Lord. No. We cannot go back. But the Lord knows our need. He knows our need when in our contemplation of the gospel message, though we have heard it again and again, it's full impact finally runs over us like a freight train. It will someday if it hasn't already. And we say, "Oh, my God! Let me die!" Dying is the whole duty of the sinner. Not once. "Dying" is in the continuous tense. Dying is not what we do to save ourselves, nor could it be. It is our nature, a natural response to what we have heard. A need we must accomplish, because it is our nature. "If I can't die in Your stead, then let me die with You Lord."
He says, "So you want to die like I am dying? Well; then come up on this cross with Me. You need to. I needed to die so that I could be raised again, and so do you." John 12:24 Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. Perhaps some do not understand the symbolism behind our conversion, especially our baptism. It is precisely the manner in which our Lord has instructed us to get up there on the cross with Him. Go ahead! Get up there and die! For after all, truly have we said, "It should have been me."
