On Acts Chapter 2 and Daydreams

Imagine the center aisle of your church. Now imagine the center aisle of your church long and filled with runners. Just in front of the platform is a huge banner that reads Finish Line hanging between two brightly-colored poles. Under the banner is a crowd of people waiting, reaching for you, cheering you forward, clapping you on the back and hugging you when you arrive. Picture their faces. You know who they are. Your Sunday school teacher and small group leaders are there, ready to hang medals around your neck. Your pastor. The senior saint who gives you a hug each week. All cheering and celebrating with you. Balloons and confetti join the laughter and applause.

Slowly, things wind down. The cheering turns to happy conversation as the last pieces of confetti flutter to the carpet. The smiling crowd makes its way to the back of the sanctuary and into the foyer. The last person to leave reaches an arm back through the doorway and snaps off the lights as the banner, too, falls gently to the floor. The sanctuary is dark and still.

But you keep watching the platform.

Imagine now the faintest light begins to glow from the back edge of the platform, from behind the place where the banner had hung. As the light grows slowly and steadily brighter, you recognize the form of a man sitting in a chair. He looks like a man, but you realize He is so much more. This is merely a man like Aslan is merely a lion.

"Why didn't they come? I was right here. Waiting. Arms outstretched. But no one came. Why did they stop just short of where I was waiting?"

The wretched thought hits your forehead and stomach all at once. No one finished the race.

The colors, once festive, are garish and gaudy. The memory of medals--dime-store trinkets--sickens and embarrasses you. The path had been disguised, a false goal set up, and no one knew. Not even the ones in charge.

You stand, weak-kneed and heart-sick, and make your way slowly up the few stairs and across the platform. As you approach, you look deeply into the eyes of the Man and know that He can look deeply into you. You sink, curling your feet under you and sit at the feet of the Man. Ready to learn.

Ready to finish the race.