It's the sounds that get me...that move me to a place of...well...I'm not sure how to describe just where.
I'm here in the Youth Suite of Johns Creek Baptist Church where we've created a Stations of the Cross experience. The visuals are meaningful...but the sounds, for me, are riveting and powerful.
The background music is driving and ominous. Sad. Dark. I can feel a pit in my stomach as I begin to imagine the emotions and sense of doom that His followers must have felt on that Friday long ago.
I hear my friends groan as they press their fingers against the sharp, penetrating tips of the thorns. They groan as they are reminded that Jesus suffered the pain of thorns...and on the cross...took on all our thorns. "Then Pilate took Jesus and had him flogged. The soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head. They clothed him in a purple robe and went up to him again and again, saying, “Hail, king of the Jews!” And they slapped him in the face. "
I hear our people gasp as they taste the bitterness of the vinegar on their tongue reminding them of the bitterness in their own lives...I hear softly uttered, yet urgent prayers for strength carry on. "The soldiers also came up and mocked him. They offered him wine vinegar 37 and said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself. There was a written notice above him, which read: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS."
The most striking sound has to be the pounding of the hammer...driving nails into the wood. I know it's coming...I can see the swing...but yet, I jump with every blow. Something shoots through me...it echos. It rings... "There they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle."
I hear dice tinkling on the table top. Normally...the sound would be followed by cheers or laughter as a part of some board game. But not today...the sound...the tinkling dice...sound vulgar and obscene. "Let’s not tear it,” they said to one another. “Let’s decide by lot who will get it.” This happened that the scripture might be fulfilled that said, “They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.” So this is what the soldiers did."
Colored markers squeak. I hear the squeaking as I watch people scribble their names on the newsprint on the wall...asking God to remember them...to know them. "But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
Ripping...tearing...rending...It sounds dramatic and final. I hear the ripping as our people tear pieces of cloth...thanking God for tearing through the barriers in their lives. "The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died,] he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”
I hear clicking...the clicking of a lighter as people stand before the cross draped in black and light a candle. I hear sobbing too...not really sad...more like sobs of relief. As they light the candle, they are reminded that from all this pain and suffering...the light of the world emerges. Jesus...Jesus...Jesus. "When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
The sounds are ominous, sad and dark. I hear gasps and groans. I hear pounding, tinkling, squeaking, and clicking. I hear sobbing. I hear hope. It's Friday people...But Sunday's Coming! Peace.
