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I remained silent


While getting dressed in the locker room the other day, I heard someone attempt to comfort a gentleman, who had been battling with cancer, by telling him that there is life after death. The sick man responded with something like this, “Well, I would prefer to go on living since as far as I know, no one has ever died and come back to life to tell us that death is not so bad.”

I was silent.

Fortunately, another man spoke up nearby and said that there was someone else who died and came back to life–“Elijah or Elisha in the Old Testament, I can’t remember which.”

I remained silent.

This morning I read Mark 11:1-11, the triumphal entry of the Lord Jesus into Jerusalem. What struck me was verse 9 in which Mark tells us, “Both those who went ahead and those who followed, kept on shouting, Hosanna.”

Hosanna originally meant, “O Lord, save us”, but likely by the time of Jesus had become equivalent to something like, “Hail to the King.” Before Jesus arrived and after He had passed, they kept on shouting, “Hosanna”. No one was silent that day.

My mind travels to Romans 1:16 in which Paul proclaims that he is not ashamed of the gospel that has the power to save and bring about life transformation for all who believe in it. And I am flooded with thoughts like, “Am I ashamed of my king? Would I throw down my cloak before him on the ground to honor him? Would I be brave enough to go into town and take a colt for my master and believe that I would not be arrested as a thief?”

The Lord does not need anything from me but he does want my life, my gifts and talents, my energies, my thoughts, my longings and desires, my heart, my mind, my body, my family, my resources, my ambitions. As I throw everything at the feet of my master and my king, maybe I will not be silent the next time.

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