A Walk to Remember

A friend called me and told me that I just "had to go" to this display at the Second Baptist Church.  We are both Pentecostal but she had gone with a friend who attends there and said it was amazing.  I was not far from there.  I was alone and so I decided to go.  I am so glad that I did. 

It was called the Passion Week Experience or Stations of the Cross. 

Click here to watch a clip about it from their website:
http://bcove.me/h23yyigf

The experience was unforgettable. At the self-guided tour, there were eight areas displaying items associated with the events surrounding the betrayal and crucifixion of Jesus. You are asked to walk up and observe each item. If you wish, you may touch, pick up or even smell any of the items.  Everyone was so polite and provided me with a printed guide which described each display to help you reflect on each element’s relevance to the story of Good Friday and how its truth can make an impact on your life today.

There was such a reverance, a peace that I felt the moment I walked in. I first came to the water basins where the priest had to wash their hands before entering.  I was hesitant at first about participating because I was only a visitor to this church, but the people at each display were so kind and inviting.  I put my hands out and the lady at the basin poured cool water over my hands.  The moment the water touched my hands,  I burst out in tears that I did not even realize were at the surface.  I had been struggling with some issues in my life that week and it was like a dam broke inside me and the tears just began to overflow onto my face. It felt like every sin had been washed off of my hands as the water poured over my hands and down into the basin below. I felt like a heavy load had been lifted off of me.  It was incredible. 

From there on I could not stop crying as I walked to each display. I tasted the last supper, sat in the Garden of Gethsemane, smelled the spices, touched each of the thirty pieces of silver, felt the crown of thorns and spikes and imagined the pain. There was dramatic music playing in the background with the distant sound of a hammer hitting nail which you found out at the end was an opportunity to physically nail your burdens and sins to a large cross. By the time I reached the cross and make the long walk down the altar to where the cross was laid, my knees were trembling.  I wrote down the burdens I had been been carrying on a piece of paper they provided, picked up a hammer and nail and nailed them to the cross.  I felt bad for hitting the nail so hard, because I knew that is what they did to Jesus, unmercifully inflicting pain on his body.  But I knew that is what he came, to away take all our burdens, our sins, and our failures. By the time my paper was firmly nailed to the cross I could not contain my spirit and I began speaking in tongues as the spirit gave the utterance. Although I was not loud, there was a young man there at the display and I am certain he heard me.  But he did not seem offended. He smiled when I shook his hand thanked him for what they were doing. 

I walked away .... touched and very thankful for the experience.