The cover picture is by ChilVera, via Pixabay
Saturday before Easter Day (continued from ‘Bad Thursday’)
“C’mon Wendy, talk to us” we said, as she flitted too and fro amongst the dozen-or-so other café customers. Saturday morning was ‘peak hour’ when working people joined us ‘economically inactive’ folks. A leisurely breakfast cooked by somebody else is a nice treat at the end of a busy week, so I seem to remember.
“Sorry, you lot, you’ll have to bide your time ‘till it’s quietened down.” She furrowed her brow in mock strictness, then winked.
-o-O-o-
Ben, Alice and I had all been surprised by the Good Friday service, how it was alive and emotionally powerful.
“That music at the beginning,” said Alice, “it was so menacing, I felt I was watching a thriller.”
“Tell you what,” added Ben, “when they carried up the cross and put it into its stand, it seemed so oppressive. Jesus had everyone against him, nobody prepared to stand up for him.”
“Then those monologues,” I added. “Judas betrayed him, Peter lost his nerve, Governor Pilate let the crowd persuade him to do the wrong thing…poor Jesus didn’t have a chance!
“Tell you what I liked,” added Alice, “I loved the hymns – or were they songs? I recognised that one Wendy told us about, with the wretch being made a treasure. I kept the service booklet.” And, burrowing into her handbag, Alice fished it out, found the page and read,
“It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished.”
“I don’t quite understand”, she said, “but I think it means Jesus died instead of me. And whatever he’s done, that’s the end of it.”
-o-O-o-
“Now then, you’ve been busy nattering,” said Wendy, glancing at the other now-empty tables. “I’m dying to know what you made of last night.”
As the three friends shared their thoughts once again, Wendy nodded and smiled. Then I asked,
“Tell us, if we want to sign up for this Jesus lark, what do we have to do next? I assume it’s a bit like AA, is it – we’ve got to say sorry to the people we’ve harmed, and try to make amends? Then make a list of faults…it’s going to be a long process, for me at least.”
-o-O-o-
For Wendy’s benefit I told my own story, which wasn’t a pretty tale. Life had felt good, married with three kids, a satisfying job as a printer. Then came my motorbike accident. A young upstart in a swanky German car cut me up just after I’d overtaken him, closing the gap I’d planned to ride into. Several months, many operations later, more metal than bone, I finally limped into work where they kindly gave me a desk job. I was in constant pain, which eventually I learnt to numb with whisky. This had less immediate side effects than my medicines, but – oh why did I not listen? – I couldn’t stop drinking it and needed more and more. As you can imagine, the job went first, then longsuffering Linda finally lost patience, and I was left without a family.
“So, as you know, I went to AA. I couldn’t stick with the programme but I managed to pull back. I’m still in pain but it’s gradually got better over the years. I drink mainly lager nowadays but I can’t help myself having a whisky session once, maybe twice a week. I feel awful ‘cos of what I put Linda and my kids through. And I let myself down pretty badly. So many regrets.”
-o-O-o-
“John,” said Wendy to me, “I can’t answer all your questions. All I do know is that Jesus died for everything you’ve done, so it can be forgiven. It may help you to do make amends like in AA, but you’d do it with Jesus alongside you, not as a way of earning his favour.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t seem right,” countered Ben. “I mean, why should God let people get let off scot free when they break his rules? I had no choice but to sack people who behaved irresponsibly. Doesn’t God do what any boss would?”
“That’s the point, Ben,” said Wendy. “God did impose the punishment, but Jesus took it instead of us. That’s because he really, really loves us. You up for church tomorrow morning? It’s Easter Day!”
-o-O-o-
It took another week of breakfast discussions before Ben, Alice and I decided we’d follow Wendy’s example and belong to Jesus. She wasn’t quite confident of helping us take the final steps, and asked Rev Judy to join us at the café. We were a bit nervous when Judy showed up in her dog collar, but she showed herself genuinely interested in us and in our ‘journeys’. But then she said,
“Wendy, you’ve brought your friends to Jesus. I think I should leave you to guide them through their first steps to faith. These booklets explain what they need to do.”
“I suppose this mean we’ll be coming to church from now on,” mused Ben with a mock grimace.
“Well, Ben, I hope you will! Think of church as a family home, not a religious building,” said Judy. “But – I think the four of you are a mini-church in your own right! Why don’t you carry on exploring the Christian faith together, right here? You may even find the ‘café church’ starts to expand!”
…to be continued
[The quotation is from Stuart Townend’s song, ‘How Deep the Father’s love for us’, last 4 lines of the final verse.]
johnhearsonwrites.com 