I was backstage at our church one Sunday prior to the start of the morning service. I had been asked by our teaching pastor J.R. to do a monologue during that weekend's worship services. J.R. is an awesome brother of Christ, transparent, loving, and real. As my brother Rob would say, "the pastor is anointed." J.R. Has now moved to plant Apostles Church; may God bless his work and his family. Before J.R. left, he began to introduce new and creative elements into our corporate worship. On this specific Sunday, he wanted to add a short dramatic monologue to the beginning of his sermon. He asked if I would play the part and I gladly accepted. I miss him and think of him often.
As I paced backstage, I remember feeling a little misplaced being dressed in 4th century Jewish military garb and all; dagger included. The looks and glances from the band and choir members didn't exactly help either. I was playing a soldier in Herod's army who had spent the day butchering little boys in Bethlehem (Luke 2:16-17). The sermon was entitled "Christmas with a Madman". Brilliant. The pastor had taken a well known but seldom discussed aspect of the gospel and Christmas story and preached a powerful message on how even when we try and defy God, our efforts actually fulfill God's purposes. This is illustrated in the actions of all the 'Herod's' found in the Bible. Again, brilliant.
This specific Sunday was to be extra special. In addition to my 'appearance' my daughter was on stage performing with the church children's choir. On a side note, I found it eerily strange listening to the beautiful sound of children singing Christmas songs on 'that' Sunday with 'that' message (butchering children). Let's just say that it heightened the drama a bit. Not only was my daughter singing on stage, my neighbors oldest son Jonah was getting baptized. Jonah is an 8 year old boy who lives three houses down from us. Like the many several children on Sawgrass, Jonah's basically an adopted child of ours. The Sawgrass kids (about 30) move in packs, they always outnumber the adults and they can secretly raid kitchen pantries at any of the Sawgrass homes. God has blessed Sawgrass Lane with abundant community, love, and life. Anyway, a few months prior Jonah's dad and mother split for the first time. His came home, packed up and left. We 'Sawgrassians' were shocked and in utter disbelief. This from a couple who professed to be believers; from a father who professed to believe in Christ and a mother who grew up in the evangelical church. As time went on, Jonah's parents got back together; for the first time. We all prayed for the sustaining of the marriage, that the father would stay home, and that both he and the mother would begin to look beyond themselves and their own needs.
This is how we found out that they got back together the first time. On a normal Sunday 9:30 worship service the entire family walked into church together and sat right where we Sawgrassians always sit. There was the father. Our group was back together again. I cried. We all cried. Upon seeing them shuffle through their row into their seats I thanked God for answering our prayers; bringing him home and for working in the heart of the mother. A prayer answered. But God's ways are not always our ways. And God does not work on man's time.
Two weeks after that glorious Sunday I received an email from Jonah's dad stating that he was leaving for good. He and his wife "tried to work things out but after two weeks its over". "Things will never change". I felt nothing. All I could think about was Jonah being put through this emotional bout of vertigo again unable to get solid footing- "I have a dad"; "I don't have a dad". "I have a mom"; "I don't have a mom". In that moment I truly hated Jonah's parents for doing what they had done. I suppose that if after two weeks things ain't working out then they ain't working out. I often wonder what week three would have done.
Present time. I'm standing in the back of the church waiting to go on and do my soldier monologue, "sacks of grain, I told myself they were just sacks of grain..." blah, blah, blah. I catch the video monitor in the back which helps people know what's going on out front and when they need to get out on the stage. The baptismal curtain pulls back and there's our head Pastor. White robe, great hair; glorious. I remember that Jonah's mom was excited because Jonah's dad agreed to be in the tank with him and JR. She was hopeful. We all were hopeful. This news was encouraging. If the dad was actually going to come back to church, back to his family if only for one Sunday and get inside the tank to be with Jonah for his baptism, maybe he would change. The glorious pastor departs and JR enters the baptismal tank; I'm watching this on the video monitor in full 4th century soldier attire. J.R. Says, "I'd like for you to meet my friend Jonah". And Jonah comes into the screen, white robe, deer in the head lights- he's eight. As I fiddle with my fake armor I realize that there is no dad. Where is he? Suddenly, whoever was working the video camera on the baptismal moves the camera slightly and quickly to the left and I see Jonah's dad in a suit and tie standing by the water out of the tank and out of view for the congregation to see on the video monitor. He was there. He was out of sight, in the baptismal, but not in the water beside his son. I broke down. Jonah's dad was there, out of sight, not in the water by his boy.
At that moment of bewilderment, anger, and sorrow I hated Jonah's dad for his cowardice and inability to be the father which our Father calls men to be. He was to ashamed to be seen. Then I realized something; only God puts you in the water. I looked at the monitor, at Jonah's dad off to the side, out of sight, in his best suit. I had the same thought again; only God puts you in the water. Without God's regenerating work in our hearts, no man seeks Him. No man dead to sin is capable of crawling into the baptismal waters. I know this is true because I hated God once too. It is the regenerating love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit which puts us in the tank. This realization humbled me and revealed the awesome sovereignty of the almighty. More importantly turned my hate for Jonah's dad into compassion. I can no more judge and hate a man for something that he is utterly incapable of doing on his own. I thank God for humbling me. I thank God for drawing me to Him, that through the atoning work of Christ on the Cross and power of the Holy Spirit I might leave death in the baptismal waters and arise anew.
As I paced backstage, I remember feeling a little misplaced being dressed in 4th century Jewish military garb and all; dagger included. The looks and glances from the band and choir members didn't exactly help either. I was playing a soldier in Herod's army who had spent the day butchering little boys in Bethlehem (Luke 2:16-17). The sermon was entitled "Christmas with a Madman". Brilliant. The pastor had taken a well known but seldom discussed aspect of the gospel and Christmas story and preached a powerful message on how even when we try and defy God, our efforts actually fulfill God's purposes. This is illustrated in the actions of all the 'Herod's' found in the Bible. Again, brilliant.
This specific Sunday was to be extra special. In addition to my 'appearance' my daughter was on stage performing with the church children's choir. On a side note, I found it eerily strange listening to the beautiful sound of children singing Christmas songs on 'that' Sunday with 'that' message (butchering children). Let's just say that it heightened the drama a bit. Not only was my daughter singing on stage, my neighbors oldest son Jonah was getting baptized. Jonah is an 8 year old boy who lives three houses down from us. Like the many several children on Sawgrass, Jonah's basically an adopted child of ours. The Sawgrass kids (about 30) move in packs, they always outnumber the adults and they can secretly raid kitchen pantries at any of the Sawgrass homes. God has blessed Sawgrass Lane with abundant community, love, and life. Anyway, a few months prior Jonah's dad and mother split for the first time. His came home, packed up and left. We 'Sawgrassians' were shocked and in utter disbelief. This from a couple who professed to be believers; from a father who professed to believe in Christ and a mother who grew up in the evangelical church. As time went on, Jonah's parents got back together; for the first time. We all prayed for the sustaining of the marriage, that the father would stay home, and that both he and the mother would begin to look beyond themselves and their own needs.
This is how we found out that they got back together the first time. On a normal Sunday 9:30 worship service the entire family walked into church together and sat right where we Sawgrassians always sit. There was the father. Our group was back together again. I cried. We all cried. Upon seeing them shuffle through their row into their seats I thanked God for answering our prayers; bringing him home and for working in the heart of the mother. A prayer answered. But God's ways are not always our ways. And God does not work on man's time.
Two weeks after that glorious Sunday I received an email from Jonah's dad stating that he was leaving for good. He and his wife "tried to work things out but after two weeks its over". "Things will never change". I felt nothing. All I could think about was Jonah being put through this emotional bout of vertigo again unable to get solid footing- "I have a dad"; "I don't have a dad". "I have a mom"; "I don't have a mom". In that moment I truly hated Jonah's parents for doing what they had done. I suppose that if after two weeks things ain't working out then they ain't working out. I often wonder what week three would have done.
Present time. I'm standing in the back of the church waiting to go on and do my soldier monologue, "sacks of grain, I told myself they were just sacks of grain..." blah, blah, blah. I catch the video monitor in the back which helps people know what's going on out front and when they need to get out on the stage. The baptismal curtain pulls back and there's our head Pastor. White robe, great hair; glorious. I remember that Jonah's mom was excited because Jonah's dad agreed to be in the tank with him and JR. She was hopeful. We all were hopeful. This news was encouraging. If the dad was actually going to come back to church, back to his family if only for one Sunday and get inside the tank to be with Jonah for his baptism, maybe he would change. The glorious pastor departs and JR enters the baptismal tank; I'm watching this on the video monitor in full 4th century soldier attire. J.R. Says, "I'd like for you to meet my friend Jonah". And Jonah comes into the screen, white robe, deer in the head lights- he's eight. As I fiddle with my fake armor I realize that there is no dad. Where is he? Suddenly, whoever was working the video camera on the baptismal moves the camera slightly and quickly to the left and I see Jonah's dad in a suit and tie standing by the water out of the tank and out of view for the congregation to see on the video monitor. He was there. He was out of sight, in the baptismal, but not in the water beside his son. I broke down. Jonah's dad was there, out of sight, not in the water by his boy.
At that moment of bewilderment, anger, and sorrow I hated Jonah's dad for his cowardice and inability to be the father which our Father calls men to be. He was to ashamed to be seen. Then I realized something; only God puts you in the water. I looked at the monitor, at Jonah's dad off to the side, out of sight, in his best suit. I had the same thought again; only God puts you in the water. Without God's regenerating work in our hearts, no man seeks Him. No man dead to sin is capable of crawling into the baptismal waters. I know this is true because I hated God once too. It is the regenerating love of God and the power of the Holy Spirit which puts us in the tank. This realization humbled me and revealed the awesome sovereignty of the almighty. More importantly turned my hate for Jonah's dad into compassion. I can no more judge and hate a man for something that he is utterly incapable of doing on his own. I thank God for humbling me. I thank God for drawing me to Him, that through the atoning work of Christ on the Cross and power of the Holy Spirit I might leave death in the baptismal waters and arise anew.
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