The Man on the Ladder 3: A Great Opportunity
The Man on the Ladder 4: Over the Threshold
The Man on the Ladder 5: Labors of Love
The Man on the Ladder 4: Over the Threshold
The Man on the Ladder 5: Labors of Love
The choir at Bethlehem Lutheran Church of Valentine stood at
the front of the sanctuary facing their neighbors. Mrs. Mary Sageser, the barber’s wife, sat at
the piano stage left. Pastor Grant sat on the
other side looking at his flock. There
were guests this Wednesday evening.
The Leader, the Tall One, and the Fat One stood at the
front, hymnals in hand ready to sing along with the worshipers.
Mrs. Sageser began pressing the keys with her pliable
fingers, foot tapping in time. The choir
lead the church.
Weary burdened wanderer,
There is rest for thee,
At the feet of Jesus,
In His love so free;
Listen to His message,
Words forever blest,
Oh, thou heavy laden,
“Come to Me and rest.”
The Leader wasn’t troubled by his work. He knew the song was picked for them, but it
was empty. He sang along quietly with the
congregation for show. He did not
worship God. He served another, in
fact. He cared not for these or any
people. He had purpose. Anything else was hubris.
“Come, oh come to Me,”
“Come, oh come to Me,”
Jesus now is waiting, calling
“Come, oh come to Me.”
The Leader didn’t know Christ well enough to be on a first
name basis. Not an enemy per se, more
like an entity to be avoided, an adversary.
He just didn’t understand the faithful’s infatuation, their dedication
to the Risen one. He was not impressed.
Bring Him all thy burdens,
All thy guilt and sin,
Mercy’s door is open,
Rise and enter in.
Jesus there is waiting,
Patiently for thee,
Hear Him gently calling,
“Come, oh, come to Me.”
Joseph had had many discussions with both Otis and Patty
about mercy. Like the Godhead, the
trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, mercy is part of a trio of sacred significance. Justice, Mercy, Grace. Justice being when you get what you deserve. Mercy being when you do not receive what’s earned. Grace is when you get what you
do not deserve. Three varying degrees of
consequence. It is particularly salient
in Christ's baring man’s sin at Golgotha. This was Grace. Man was forgiven, a pardon not earned.
Linger then no longer,
Come just now to Him;
Ere the shadows gather,
And thy light grows dim.
Thou hast long been waiting
For some better time,
But today He’s calling,
Come and claim Him thine.
The Tall one wanted to suck on his tobacco pipe, filling his lungs with smoldering life. Instead he’d have to patiently sit through an
hour or so of a man giving the same speech he’s heard a thousand times
before. Phony reverence to a God that
abandoned his creation a few thousand years ago. He gave up.
He sent His son to absolve Him of any duty, to say to His subjects, “I
no longer have interest in you. Follow
these rules that I am handing down one last time. You are on your own." And instead of receiving
it as condemnation those fools welcomed it.
The Tall One loved when they were led astray.
For now, he’d stand there moving his lips. Not so much as an utterance would escape his tongue.
The Fat One rarely spoke, but he had a beautiful tenor
voice. He was used to lying. The deception. He sung the hymns. Loudly.
He believed in none of it. He
made sure he was heard. If nothing else,
it aided in the perception that they were good God-fearing men. Just as these fools believed they had free
will, he had choices. And he chose to
sing.
He will bid thee welcome,
At the blessed cross,
Turn to joy thy mourning,
Turn to gold thy dross.
He will lead thee gently,
All along the way,
In the path that shineth,
Unto perfect day.
“And today was a glorious day. The evening is a beautiful one indeed.” Otis always hastily presented himself to the
lectern after worship. He did not allow
for idle time in his service.
“It is our honor to have three gentlemen visitors from the
East. Misters Thom Winston, Jacob Rose,
and Charles Faulkner have business to discuss with many of you. I am told it will be an opportunity that may
be of great interest. I believe that
Saturday evening in the fellowship hall would be sufficient. Maybe at the bottom of the seven o’clock
hour? Mrs. Sageser promised me she
would make a blueberry pie if any of the other wives would volunteer to bring a
dish as well. Mr. Perryman will inform
those of you that our guests would like to speak with. Meantime, let us honor our guests as they spend
time in our town.” He paused very
briefly, “And let us bring forth the offering plates and pray as we honor God with
our first fruits.”
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“Come, Oh, Come to Me”
Lyrics by Lizzie Akers, 1902
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