I recently spend a night on the roof the school where I am principal as a "bet" I made with the students concerning summer school registration. The details of the event are not relevant, just the fact the students made their goal, and I was relegated to one evening on the roof.
The date selected for the events was, by coincidence, Friday, May 13. After a school-wide movie party, with many students and families watching, I climbed a ladder, tossed down some candy, and settled in for what I imagined would be a relaxing night of wifi binge watching, snacks, and solitude. I soon discovered I was mistaken.
Quickly I learned that in the Ozarks, temps in May can still get uncomfortably cold if out in the open. The wind kicked up, the temps dropped, and I soon realized it was going to be a long night. Hat, gloves, and sleeping bag could not keep the wind at bay. At one point I had my lawn chair tented over my head in an effort to deflect the chilly wind that was gusting and swirling.
As I lay on the roof longing for sleep, my thoughts went to my homeless friends. My weather-exposed experiment was only one night. A lark. A stunt. There was a ladder and warm building available if the rain began to accompany the clouds and wind. But for those living on the street, there is not that option. My short stint gave me a small sample of what their lives are each and every night.
My one night spent out of doors was a brief glimpse into the life of others. Imagine Christ giving up the opulence of heaven for a life on earth, not just for one night but for 33 years. He traded perfection for imperfection. Opulence for squalor. Wealth for poverty. Streets of gold for dusty alleys.
Much is said and written about Christ's sacrifice on the cross and the pain, humiliation, and abandonment he experienced during his Passion. And it is right to do so. But let's not forget the 33 years he spent away from his rightful place in heaven. No palace. No worshiping angels. No adoring cherubim.
I am not discounting the excruciating pain he suffered or superhuman effort it took for Christ to survive his trial and crucifixion, but let's also remember the 33 years of sacrifice he made leading up to those three days.
Would I be willing to give up my modest life to live in poverty? My house for a hovel? Three squares a day for soup kitchens? A warm bed for a pallet in an abandoned building? By comparison that is what Christ did for us for a third of a century. His death was the ultimate sacrifice, but his life was a whole-life sacrifice. Let's praise and thank him for both.
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