About ten years ago, our family visited Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia. Julie and I had both visited Williamsburg as children, and we couldn't wait to share the experience with Eric and Molly.
We were not disappointed. Our time there was filled with a multitude of fun and moving moments.
One particular event, however, stands out for me.
One day our daily schedule informed us that the fife and drum corps would be making its way from the Governor's Palace to the Capitol, marching down Duke of Gloucester Street. At the appropriate time, we took our place on the street and waited for the procession. We had every intention of simply sitting there and watching the fife and drum corps pass by.
But that's not what happened.
When the corps approached, we found ourselves doing what everybody else was doing. We were quite literally swept up in the movement of the multitude. There was simply no way to sit and watch. We began to march with the musicians as they moved down the street. Rarely in my life have I felt that kind of pull. The experience was moving in every sense of the word.
That kind of pull is exactly how I would describe my walk with Jesus.
Many people, I think, have every intention of watching Jesus go by. They hear that he's on the move. Like Zacchaeus, they choose their spot and settle in. Maybe it's up in a tree; maybe it's on a bench. But once Jesus comes close, it is impossible merely to watch. Even before they understand what's happening, they find themselves swept up in the movement of the march. It happened to Simon and Andrew. It happened to James and John. It happened to Zacchaeus.
And it happened to me.
That day in Williamsburg, we were worn out from a long day of history. We had walked ten miles (it seemed). We were tired and we settled in for another performance, one more thing to observe: the fife and drum corps. Suddenly, though, we found ourselves caught up in something living and real. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the excitement of the crowd. Maybe it was the faces of the young people marching with fifes and drums. Maybe it was the sudden realization that people just like us long ago had the courage to make momentous decisions. I honestly don't know exactly how it happened, but all of a sudden I was marching.
And I never intended to.
Don't imagine for a minute that you can settle in and watch Jesus pass by. It is simply not possible. If you even glance in his direction, you will find yourself swept up in the march of his kingdom. You might not even intend for that to happen - but it's what he has intended for you from the very beginning.
Do you hear the music? Do you see the crowd? Do you sense what's happening? Do you feel the pull?
That pull is God at work.
And even if we don't know exactly how it happens, we understand that we were made to march.
Sometimes, we like to pretend that we're in control. But once in a while, we find ourselves swept up in something holy and mysterious.
Jesus is on the move. Don't get too comfortable; you won't be sitting there for long . . .
But that's not what happened.
When the corps approached, we found ourselves doing what everybody else was doing. We were quite literally swept up in the movement of the multitude. There was simply no way to sit and watch. We began to march with the musicians as they moved down the street. Rarely in my life have I felt that kind of pull. The experience was moving in every sense of the word.
That kind of pull is exactly how I would describe my walk with Jesus.
Many people, I think, have every intention of watching Jesus go by. They hear that he's on the move. Like Zacchaeus, they choose their spot and settle in. Maybe it's up in a tree; maybe it's on a bench. But once Jesus comes close, it is impossible merely to watch. Even before they understand what's happening, they find themselves swept up in the movement of the march. It happened to Simon and Andrew. It happened to James and John. It happened to Zacchaeus.
And it happened to me.
That day in Williamsburg, we were worn out from a long day of history. We had walked ten miles (it seemed). We were tired and we settled in for another performance, one more thing to observe: the fife and drum corps. Suddenly, though, we found ourselves caught up in something living and real. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the excitement of the crowd. Maybe it was the faces of the young people marching with fifes and drums. Maybe it was the sudden realization that people just like us long ago had the courage to make momentous decisions. I honestly don't know exactly how it happened, but all of a sudden I was marching.
And I never intended to.
Don't imagine for a minute that you can settle in and watch Jesus pass by. It is simply not possible. If you even glance in his direction, you will find yourself swept up in the march of his kingdom. You might not even intend for that to happen - but it's what he has intended for you from the very beginning.
Do you hear the music? Do you see the crowd? Do you sense what's happening? Do you feel the pull?
That pull is God at work.
And even if we don't know exactly how it happens, we understand that we were made to march.
Sometimes, we like to pretend that we're in control. But once in a while, we find ourselves swept up in something holy and mysterious.
Jesus is on the move. Don't get too comfortable; you won't be sitting there for long . . .