The Wounds of Christ

Every now and then a mainstream preacher will actually preach a sermon.  The old preacher at the rural community church we attend at times did it today.  He told us at the beginning that he would be preaching a different kind of sermon.  I’ve kept notes over the last few months and generally he preaches the standard 3 point, 20 minute sermon.  He’s a dear, elderly man who I believe truly loves the Lord, but he bought in to the pre-packaged Twinkie approach to preaching and teaching which is sad.  But, I digress.  (I’ve been waiting for a long time to use that phrase.)

It was a child’s sermon, but God in his sovereignty placed my 6 year old grandson strategically to hear it.  The old preacher started with a 9/11 reference to all those who died 10 years ago (I groaned silently.)    Then, he quickly moved on to those who were wounded, and how though their wounds could have been horrific they paled in the face of the wounds Christ bore for us.  He went on in his 20 minutes to describe, as best as an old man can, what Christ went though – beating, scourging, spitting, thorns, blood, nailing, spears. . . .  My grandson would look up at me with questioning eyes and I would nod.  I’ve told him the story, over and over.  A boy, however, needs teaching from a man.  Oran can tell the story himself now, and he can tell how Christ didn’t have to subject himself to it; how He did it for us elect sinners.   I thanked the old preacher, though I suspect next week we’ll be back to 3 points.