Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh! Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Those are the words of one of my most treasured spirituals. Whether sung by Gospel legends or the Jubilee Choir at the New Hope Missionary Baptist Church, those words have moved me since childhood.
Of course,we were not physically there. However, I learned as a child that Jesus Christ had us all on his mind as he hung on Calvary’s rugged cross.
As a child I knew about the story of Christ’s Crucifixion and Resurrection, but it wasn’tuntil adulthood that I learned about “Maundy Thursday” (Holy Thursday) and began to personally observe Ash Wednesday and the weeks in between.
The word “Lent”was not in our vocabulary as Baptists, yet time and space would allow it to find its way into my lexicon and Spiritual life.
For me, this has been an interesting Lenten season where much reflection has taken place. It has been a time to reflect on health, life, ministry, family, and any andeverything in between. It has been a time of searching and waiting. Oh, but waiting must be saved for Advent. Right?
In past years, this would have been a time of running around to malls looking for theperfect dress, matching accessories, and shoes. Excuse me, looking for the perfect dress-es. As a child, I was blessed to have one for morning worship and another for the infamous afternoon Easter program. These days, none of that matters. While the idea of new clothes and new life in Christ are rooted in Baptism, most of us never learned the complete facts about this ancienttradition. We simply donned bonnets, new dresses, and looked forward to unwrapping Easter baskets. I was a spoiled child and often received two or three baskets of sugary goods.
Resurrection Sunday or what I only knew as Easter Sunday has always had special meaning forme. At the age of 12, it was onResurrection Sunday that I was baptized into the Body of Christ. You know, I was “at the age of accountability” and it was time to go down in the water. Revival was held that week and I was instructed to “seek” God kneeling before the congregation. I’m not quite sure what heart change occurred at that time, but I recall wondering if I had been down on my knees a suitable amount of time.The mothers and deacons watched closely.
It was also the morning I watched as one of the older deacons went to the phone to learnhis daughter was unresponsive. She was my godmother and beautician, so her death on the day has never left me. Althoughit was 27 years ago, the memories of that morning are still very fresh. Back then it was a time of mixed emotions, but today I know that death had no victory.
Death does not have the final say! It did not at Golgotha or in April 1986 when it stopped by Meeting Street Road.
“Lest I forget Gethsemane; Lest Iforget Thine agony; Lest I forget Thy love for me, Lead me to Calvary.”
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh! Sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Those are the words of one of my most treasured spirituals. Whether sung by Gospel legends or the Jubilee Choir at the New Hope Missionary Baptist Church, those words have moved me since childhood.
Of course,we were not physically there. However, I learned as a child that Jesus Christ had us all on his mind as he hung on Calvary’s rugged cross.
As a child I knew about the story of Christ’s Crucifixion and Resurrection, but it wasn’tuntil adulthood that I learned about “Maundy Thursday” (Holy Thursday) and began to personally observe Ash Wednesday and the weeks in between.
The word “Lent”was not in our vocabulary as Baptists, yet time and space would allow it to find its way into my lexicon and Spiritual life.
For me, this has been an interesting Lenten season where much reflection has taken place. It has been a time to reflect on health, life, ministry, family, and any andeverything in between. It has been a time of searching and waiting. Oh, but waiting must be saved for Advent. Right?
In past years, this would have been a time of running around to malls looking for theperfect dress, matching accessories, and shoes. Excuse me, looking for the perfect dress-es. As a child, I was blessed to have one for morning worship and another for the infamous afternoon Easter program. These days, none of that matters. While the idea of new clothes and new life in Christ are rooted in Baptism, most of us never learned the complete facts about this ancienttradition. We simply donned bonnets, new dresses, and looked forward to unwrapping Easter baskets. I was a spoiled child and often received two or three baskets of sugary goods.
Resurrection Sunday or what I only knew as Easter Sunday has always had special meaning forme. At the age of 12, it was onResurrection Sunday that I was baptized into the Body of Christ. You know, I was “at the age of accountability” and it was time to go down in the water. Revival was held that week and I was instructed to “seek” God kneeling before the congregation. I’m not quite sure what heart change occurred at that time, but I recall wondering if I had been down on my knees a suitable amount of time.The mothers and deacons watched closely.
It was also the morning I watched as one of the older deacons went to the phone to learnhis daughter was unresponsive. She was my godmother and beautician, so her death on the day has never left me. Althoughit was 27 years ago, the memories of that morning are still very fresh. Back then it was a time of mixed emotions, but today I know that death had no victory.
Death does not have the final say! It did not at Golgotha or in April 1986 when it stopped by Meeting Street Road.
“Lest I forget Gethsemane; Lest Iforget Thine agony; Lest I forget Thy love for me, Lead me to Calvary.”
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