Good Folks, it is Friday, March 29, 2019. During this season of Lent, we are reminded of what God has done, is doing and promises to do. And we see signs of this everywhere. A story worth repeating during this season. Enjoy.
Dr. Frank Harrington shares this story that every Lent he and his wife arrange to have a massive cross planted on the front lawn that grabs the attention of even the most hurried driver on the busy Atlanta streets. The cross is furled in purple until Easter Sunday, when the Harringtons arrange with a florist to have the giant cross festooned in flowers of every color and hue. Harrington says: “A little drama played itself out on one of our buses. There was a new bus driver who was not familiar with us. It was his first Sunday and he was in animated conversation with someone who was riding the bus. When he drove in, he suddenly saw this huge cross we erect out front …. Right in the middle of his conversation, he interrupted his train of thought and exclaimed: ‘My God, somebody BIG must have died.’ He was thinking about one of those little white roadside crosses that we put up, sad to say, when somebody’s been killed.”
-“The One Who Goes Ahead!” Peachtree Presbyterian Pulpit, April 12, 1998.
At the corner of State Highway 36 and FM 2004, four miles from Brazoria going east, and four miles from Lake Jackson going north, are two small, white painted crosses. I served First United Methodist Church of Brazoria for six and a-half years and saw these two crosses countless times. These crosses etched a picture in my mind and heart.
These crosses bear the names of two young children. What I remember about those two crosses was the fact that they were gently tended to on a regular basis. During Valentine’s Day, before and for some time after, flowers and heart shaped balloons would be attached. During Christmas, a small Christmas tree was decorated and held in place. During other times, you would notice, what was possibly a birthday celebration remembered.
In that particular corner of the world, many vendors would park themselves and sell their wares, from fruits and vegetables, to furniture. It also happened to be at the corner of a maximum-security state prison, with high fences where razor-ribbon wire was the order of the day. Yet, in the midst of these two small crosses, at a corner of this world where hundreds of cars pass daily, where vendors come and go, and a “stone’s throw” from a 1,000+ population of incarcerated felons, left undisturbed, are memories of lives taken all too early.
We see these same crosses as we travel the streets of communities or down the highway. Grief will take its own journey for those who grieve. The state highway maintenance crews do not touch these crosses…if anything, they insure that the weeds do not grow around them. I am reminded of two lives lost. I am reminded of the cross in our sanctuary, for it represents a life lost for my “lostness.” I am reminded never to forget. God bless you in your own journey of grief and sorrow, remembering the cross of Christ and those crosses we see and carry in our own hearts.
Blessings from Duncanville,
Pastor Frank (firstname.lastname@example.org)
For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person–though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Romans 5:6-8