“I remember the sheep crying out that day… Samuel seemed pretty angry. No, I’m not the king; I am just a soldier in the army. But that day, Samuel was infuriated with King Saul. It was as though Saul had done an atrocious act. All he did was take some sheep and oxen. And not only so, but he did it because we, the soldiers, told him to. But Saul always seemed to do that. He always did what we wanted him to, even when it wasn’t the best thing for us. That day, it seemed that he really got himself into a pickle.
There was another moment I remember when we were fighting the Philistines. They had a giant warrior on their side, taller than any man I’ve seen before. This man, Goliath, roared against the people of Israel and against our God… But Saul did nothing. Wouldn’t the king come and stand up for his people and his Lord? Saul himself was a head taller than any other man in Israel – it only made sense. But Saul, again, was cowering with us, the rest of his men.
Then I remember a kid, no older than a young teenager, strut with a righteous anger towards the king. His brother and others were hurling insults behind him, but I could tell it didn’t faze him. This boy went up to King Saul and said he would fight the Philistine giant! I remember standing from afar as David tried on the king’s own armor. But the weight and size was too much for him.
As David walked out onto the battlefield to stand against Goliath the silence seemed to permeate across the field. All the men stayed hidden behind the rocks, in expectancy to flee if things went awry. But with the swing of an arm the giant went tumbling, and moments later his severed head was held up high in the air. At that moment, every Israelite knew that the battle was won for them. I remember running out knowing that the people had gotten something they didn’t deserve: a victory.
I remember deciding that day that though this boy wasn’t the king that the people deserved, he was the one that would be given to them… King David”
“I remember the people crying out that day… Pilate seemed okay with what was happening. ‘Crucify him! Crucify him!’ echoed eerily in the crowds cries. I was shouting along. No, I’m no one important; I am just a Roman centurion. But that day, the Pharisees and the people seemed to be infuriated with this man called ‘Jesus’ – who they said was the self-acclaimed ‘King of the Jews.’ Jesus hadn’t really done an atrocious act, but the people pleaded regardless. I have to admit, I myself found it a bit humorous.
As I stood outside the city that day, watching this man hanging from a tree, my heart suddenly stopped. I remember him crying out amidst the screams, ‘It is finished.’ At that point the earth shook, and the clouds stirred up in the sky unlike anything I have ever seen before or since. And as this ‘King of the Jews’ took his final breath, I remember being filled with awe at what had taken place. Truly this man was the Son of God.
I don’t deserve the forgiveness of this man who I now call Christ. But I know that this is what grace is all about; my sins deserved death, but my Savior gave me life. He won the victory over sin and death, and all I had to do was receive it.
I decided that day that though this Man on a cross wasn’t the King that the world deserved, He was the King that was given to them… and to me… Jesus Christ.”