A couple of days ago our back-fence neighbors invited us to a Maundy Thursday contemplative Way-of-the-Cross activity their congregation had planned. My wife and I had been members of this congregation back when it was meeting in a storefront next to the bowling alley, but we’d left because our commitment to Christ was greater than our commitment to that congregation’s ideals. Still, besides a strong dislike for the group’s first pastor (now long gone), I harbor no bad feelings toward the group.
So, yesterday evening, after my young son and I got through washing the Green Car, and after he’d had supper, we drove out there to do the walk through. My boy was probably a year or two too young to “get it,” and was bored but asked me some good questions. We didn’t stay long, and I took him to play on an unusual swingset on the property. Personally, I experienced no revelation nor anything spiritual or even emotional. I didn’t go seeking experience, anyway, but thought my son might find it interesting.
This morning, Friday 18 April, while my wife and son had gone to The Donut Palace for a special treat-breakfast, I was installing a Velociraptor tire onto the rear wheel of my recently acquired Bridgestone MB-4, and listening to a Derek Webb album (I’d got as a free download) on my Iphone when this song, Lover, came up. Stupid term, lover, and I’ve never liked it no matter the context in which used. But this song, as I listened to it, was like hearing from Christ, himself. I got to this part, here –
…I’ll still be your defender, you’ll be my missing son
And I’ll send out an army, just to bring you back to me,
Because regardless of your brother’s lies, you will be set free
Oh, you will be set free
And I said, “Shit,” then wept a bit, leaning on that wheel.