I suppose we have all had such a moment. You can’t explain the feeling, but you just know it is special in a way unlike any other moment you have had or will have. Truth be told, I have had many of those moments that sing to me in a music I can appreciate. Marrying the woman I loved. Holding my baby the first time. Catching that HUGE bass on a rickety old rod and reel. But this moment was different. Not better, necessarily, but different. It had a different feel.

         We had a full, finished basement at our house in Ohio. It was Super Bowl, 2004. The basement had a couch and chairs and a weight set and a heavy punching bag and a pool table. In a cabinet were all kinds of board games. The Youth were over for a Super Bowl party. The party started a couple of hours before kick off with a supper that would have fed a small army. But, with wall to wall teenagers, we had a small army. A pool tournament went on all night. A single Monopoly game lasted hours. Other kids were playing other games. I remember seeing some of the kids playing Chutes and Ladders and wondering where that came from, since we didn’t have that game. Off in one corner, two of the brighter kids were quietly involved in a game of chess. Oh well. And there were three of the guys actually watching the game. Whenever the game would break for a commercial, one of them would yell out, “COMMERCIAL!” Everything would stop while we all watched the silly commercial. Marsha kept bringing the snacks and I remember being amazed at how much those hoodlums could pack away.

         At one point I was leaning against the wall, watching everything. Playing pool and beating all the guys was Mary. Seven years earlier, when she was ten, she had told me what she wanted in her wedding and she had confidently told me I would be the minister at her wedding. No boy had been picked yet, but she knew what she wanted. The previous summer I had taught her how to drive. She never walked past me without reaching out and touching my arm or shoulder. Getting badly beaten by Mary was Jason. Crazy about football, he was never the less playing pool with Mary instead of watching the game. Made me wonder. Just a month before I had stood next to his bed in the ER trying to calm him down. He had been on his way to school and had lost control of his truck on the ice and had rolled it. There in the ER he was worried his Dad was going to kill him. When his Dad came in, Dad couldn’t talk because he was so relieved Jason wasn’t really hurt. Amanda was playing Andy in chess. They were cousins and had a genuine rivalry going on all the years they were growing up, but they were pretty close. Simon, over there playing Chutes and Ladders, always had a cocky streak, but he could play Chutes and Ladders and laugh himself silly. That basement was a mass of teenage humanity. All of them having fun.

         We always had fun. Some of them worked with me at the Food Pantry, some did home repair for our elderly, a couple of our boys did oil changes and such like. Always some kind of project going on. Whatever we did, we had fun doing it. I can say it now…..I had more blessings with those kids than I ever did with the adults.

         So, I stood there leaning on the wall, looking at those kids. It came to me as I looked around, “I really love these kids!” And I did. Still do. I always referred to them as ‘my’ kids because it felt that way. And it wasn’t just those kids. I go back to the 1970s and Youth. It was always like that. But there, somehow, as I stood there looking around, I felt in my soul that this was a special moment in time. Then Mary beat Jason and she came over and touched my arm and told me it was my turn to play her.

         I have thought back to that many times. Was that something like Jesus felt as He looked at His men there at the last supper? Just pure love. So much love He was going to die for them. And for us, too. As He looked out at those men as they talked and visited over their meal, did He think about plucking Peter from the water? Did he smile a little bit as He remembered the mother of James and John asking for her boys to sit next to Him in His Kingdom? Did He look over to plain spoken Thomas and remember His simple, yet insightful, questions? As He looked at them in love, did He feel a sadness knowing how they would die and what they would endure for their faith in Him? I wonder. I did do the wedding for Mary, but I also held her in my arms as she sobbed when her four month old baby died suddenly. I told Jason that his father had died of a heart attack. I had to sit Amanda down and confront her with some of the things in her life. In a few years I was going to be preparing Simon’s body for burial. There was going to be a lot of sadness amongst the kids there that night. If I had known that at the party, I don’t think I could have handled it. Jesus, though, knew all of that as He looked around. It all had to happen.

         Jesus would have known that Peter and Andrew and Philip and Nathanial would be crucified. He would have known Thomas was going to be sold into slavery. He would see that Matthew was going to be stabbed to death, the other James was going to be stoned and the other Judas and the other Simon were going to be beaten to death. How much pain and sadness did He feel as He watched those men talking and joshing?

         It wasn’t just a simple sacrifice for Jesus. People have died for others all through history. But Jesus was laying down His life for all of us. And He didn’t have to do so. He loved us, though, so much, that He did it willingly.

         It is a rare day that I don’t hear from one of my former Youth. Sometimes it will be hearing from several, like at my birthday. Mary has gotten her life back. Amanda had that wild period, but she straightened out. Andy lives in Colorado and puts in garage doors while his wife, also one of our Youth, is a doctor. Jason is living his life long dream of being a football coach. Andy’s brother John is wrestling with the possibility of going into the ministry. We have had some good talks. Noelvys, of Cuban heritage from Miami, and now a nurse, is always grilling me on my health. They are still my kids, they still come to me with questions. But they also tell me about their kids and their families and their jobs.

         For Jesus, as He looked out at His men, I believe He saw the coming trials. But He would have seen the victories, too. He would have seen the world turned upside down by those men. Mostly, when I look at my kids today, I am pleased. When Jesus looks at us, at you and me, is He pleased?

         As we remember His sacrifice, remember to be a sacrifice, yourself, for the world.