plea

Psalm 118:17-29
Psalm 24:1-10
Matthew 26:36-56
Luke 20:9-18

Hallel, Day 15

I will not die, but I will live
and proclaim what the Lord has done.
The Lord disciplined me severely,
but did not give me over to death.

The words came flooding like so much mockery as the events of the previous hours replayed again and again, unbidden, in my mind. These were words my lips had sung hours before in swirls of confusion beneath the dark sky of Gethsemane. It was the same garden, the same piles of rocks, the same swath of olive branches where I had sat with these brothers of mine for countless hours over the last three years.

Here, I’d heard Jesus teaching the masses.
Here, I’d heard been confronted with truth.
Here, we had learned to pray.
And mere hours go, here is where my brothers and I had fallen asleep while…….
the sobs gathered with overwhelming force in my throat, choking me, as I called to mind my failings.

I ran aimlessly through the now empty garden.
I could not hold back the screams of agony.
Falling to the ground, my fists pummeled the soft earth, and I wished for death.

Here, just hours ago, I had watched Jesus heal a soldier’s ear from Peter’s reckless sword.
Here, I had been jolted awake from Jesus’ emotion-filled plea to please, please pray with Him. But I didn’t. I just couldn’t stay awake.

My hands reached up and grabbed at nearby olive branches in self-loathing and anger, plucking new leaves into my balled-up fists.

Softly, the words came again.
I will not die, but I will live
and proclaim what the Lord has done.

Proclaim?!
I scoffed!
Proclaim what??
That Yahweh had parted the Red Sea?
So what…
That He brought us out of exile?
That was centuries ago….
None of it was relevant now.
Our Messiah is… dead.

Anger overtook me again as my fingers dug into the dirt.

Open the gates of righteousness for me;
I will enter through them
and give thanks to the Lord.
This is the Lord’s gate;
the righteous will enter through it.

The melody came like whispers.
As if Jesus Himself were singing the words, and my mind easily recalled the lusty sound of His voice, fraught with emotion, as He had sung those words while leading us here last night.

This is the Lord’s gate;
the righteous will enter through it.

What did any of this mean anymore in light of all the new happenings.
In light of death….
The only understanding hitting me hard on repeat was the knowing that I was not righteous. I was not righteous. I was not righteous. Too many sins, like the dirt pressed beneath my fingernails, my sin colored everything.
I knew the truth, I was not righteous.

Not like Jesus. Certainly not like Jesus. He was innocent. Holy. Pure.
And again, the tears flowed with the blatant injustice of it all.
Holiness murdered. Messiah dead. Hope gone…..

I will give thanks to you
because you have answered me
and have become my salvation.
The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone.
This came from the Lord;
it is wondrous in our sight.

My lungs held their air as the words seemed to wrap around me, insisting I gaze at them longer. My body trembled, but something about those words I hadn’t recognized before. I turned my head as if to hear the words sung again in Jesus’ voice. Was there a deeper message in these age-old lyrics?

You…have become my salvation.
The stone that the builders rejected
has become the cornerstone.
This came from the Lord;

They were jagged pieces of a puzzle, but like a hazy fog gathering around me, realization was slowly creeping over me.
Salvation.
The stone the builders rejected….
This came from the Lord.

I inhaled sharply, suddenly remembering I had forgotten to breath, and my mind raced to the day Jesus had spoken those very words.
We were all gathered around Him in Jerusalem, walking around the breathtaking edifice of Herod’s Temple. He had told a strange parable, as most of them were, about the owner of a vineyard who, while out of the country, had sent a servant to gather fruit. But the tenants of the vineyard, whom the owner had left in charge, beat up the servant and sent him back empty handed. Three times the owner sent a servant, and three times the tenants abused the servants. Finally, the owner sent His own beloved Son, saying surely, the tenants will respect my son. But they didn’t. Instead they killed him. Then Jesus had quoted this portion of the Hallel, “The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone”.

Soft rain began mixing with my tears as I lifted my face to the heavens.
Christ was the cornerstone.
Christ was the rejected son, killed by the ones intended to care for the Father’s people.
Salvation.
This came from the Lord.

“There must be more to the story, Jesus”, I felt my lips move, and peace began easing my clenched muscles.
I didn’t have the answers, but, here, as before, in this Garden, I was being confronted with truth.

The Lord is God and has given us light.

Yes, Lord, You are the giver of Light.
Jesus, He is Your light of the world.
But, God, they crucified Him!
My questions still hung in the air
His answer came with power as the words to the end of the Hallel opened my heart, “Bind the festival sacrifice with cords to the horns of the altar…”

Jesus.
The bound sacrifice.
The cross was the altar.
Death traded for life!

I still had questions to be sure, but as I rose, dropping the olive branches to the dirt by my sandaled feet, I felt washed. I felt peace.
No, I didn’t know the answers. Christ was still in the grave, but there was more to the story, I knew it would be so because God has always, always been faithful, and always would be.

Yes, He parted the Red Sea.
Yes, it still mattered.
Yes, He set us free from slavery.
Because He has always brought Life out of Death.

You are my God, and I will give you thanks.
You are my God; I will exalt you.
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
His faithful love endures forever!

—–
As is the case with each of our first-person narratives at Gracefully Truthful, these stories of Hallel have been imaginative creativity based in the truth of Scripture. We don’t know what the disciples’ exact actions or personal internal wrestlings were after the final Passover meal, the betrayal, the denial, the flogging, and finally the crucifixion of their Lord, Jesus Christ. But, here in the Garden, we hope you find small pieces of your own journey with Jesus, and you, like the disciples, discover He is indeed faithful and true, as He always brings Life out of Death!

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