Were You There?

Last Sunday, our church's orchestra played, "Were You There?"

I've heard that song countless times, and yet this particular time as I listened, I found myself all caught up in the question. Does my life look like one that was scarred by the sight of her Savior being nailed to the cross for her sins? Do I make the kind of choices that one would even have to wonder if I knew what was done for me? How differently would our lives look, I wonder, if we had stood with that cold grass beneath our feet, enveloped in that heavy darkness as crowds raced around in panic and fear, as the earth shook, the temple curtain ripped violently from top to bottom, and blood seemed to endlessly flow from Jesus' side and down the rough, splintered cross, while His piercing cry rang out in words weighted with depths of love too strong for us to fathom, " . . . It is finished."

Because if "you were there," my train of thought continued, wouldn't it show in the kind of music one listened to in the car on the way to work? Wouldn't it show in the kind of attention one brought to themselves by the clothes they chose to put on each morning? Wouldn't it show in the value one put on their little brother's or sister's struggles and needs? Wouldn't it show in how one spent their time in the evenings, even when they were exhausted? And in what kinds of foods they snacked on? And in their choice of friends? And in their response to parents' correction? And in their faithfulness to the body of Christ? . . . Wouldn't it show? In everything?

I remember Dad saying in an afternoon service several months back, that our faith should be none the less stronger than those who did stand there that monumental day. Our belief in the Scripture's recounting of the story should stir in us images so vivid and faith so strong that our grief, and our pain, and our joy would measure equally to those who touched the very skirts of Jesus's garments.

So then, were you there? Were you there when they crucified my Lord? Is your life being changed into the image of a purposeful, focused, valiant soldier, because you visited Calvary? I don't know what your church is like, but when the worship begins, ask yourself if it seems in keeping with the death Jesus Christ suffered that we might be delivered from the bondage of this world and live victoriously set apart, not to mirror the world's pattern of sensuality and narcism, but to worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness.


Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?


Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they nailed him to the tree?


Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?


Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when God raised him from the tomb?

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