Do you ever think about the difference between knowing ABOUT Jesus and knowing Jesus?
A friend told me this story last week.
At a funeral, the pastor offered the opportunity for anyone to say a few words.
The first man rose quickly and strode boldly to the podium. He removed his prepared remarks from his pocket, looked over the audience, and spoke in a deep baritone voice.
He talked about sheep and pastures and safety and rest. He quoted multiple scripture passages to paint a lovely picture of animals under the watchful eye of a loving, caring master. Everyone listened quietly.
When he finished, he smiled and returned to his seat. A few more people spoke, and finally no one rose. The pastor asked if there was anyone else.
A man stood slowly. He hesitated, then walked to the microphone. As he faced the crowd, the pain was etched in his face. He spoke in a halting voice.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters.
A long pause—he wasn’t reading, but he wasn’t reciting either. It was a prayer, spoken aloud, as though it had been repeated a thousand times before.
He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.
His voice cracked, his knees buckled, but he braced himself against the podium and composed himself. Those who watched carefully saw the smallest hint of a smile.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Tears streamed down his face, tears of grief and joy. If anyone had looked around the room, they’d have seen the same tears on nearly every face. They’d also have seen nearly every set of lips move as the congregation whispered the final lines of the prayer.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Toward the back of the room, a boy leaned toward his father. “Dad, I don’t understand. Both of those men talked about sheep and stuff. Why was the second one so different?”
His father thought for a moment. “Well, son, I think the first guy knew how to talk about sheep.
“But the last guy knew the shepherd.”
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