“I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Luke 19:40
I know how that niggling one-upmanship in my soul goes. When someone does something that, humanly speaking, looks or sounds better than what I’ve done, what I’ve contributed, or what I’ve said.
“Fine. I’ll show them.” Or “Just wait till you hear this…”
The harder I try, the more I give, and the louder I get ~ with a hand cupped around my mouth, “Can you hear me now, folks?!”
One-upmanship: the art or practice of successively outdoing a friend, a competitor.
But what if my competitor is…a stone?
“Hey, listen up!”
Would I have the same fervor to give a shout out to the truth? As in, the true Truth?
When Jesus approached the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem for what would be His final entrance, He rode in on a cloak-draped colt. A large crowd of Jesus’ followers began to joyfully praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they’d seen (Luke 19:37). Not so the Pharisees. They insisted the raucous crowd be hushed, silenced, rebuked.
Request denied. Adamantly.
“I tell you,” he (Jesus) replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” Luke 19:40
When given an opportunity to give testimony to what God – and only God – has done, I’d hate to think a stone near my feet would cut through my frightened – or stubborn – silence and proclaim His goodness.
He has given me eyes and a mind to see that He is at work all the time. All. The. Time. From the provision of the last parking spot to His peace and wisdom when I’m being thrashed about in a storm to the salvation of a lost soul. And why have I been given the eyes and mind to see? That I may boldly tell others. Ahem, that I may boldly tell others! Jesus invites me to shout joyfully in a loud voice regarding His miracles sounding something the likes of a Divine cheerleader for Holy Trinity on High.
Do I seriously want to be outdone by a stone? I think not.
“If you don’t speak up, I will.” A stone.
I’ve witnessed a miracle recently, the redemption of a soul previously lost. His eyes and mind had been shut tight against the Truth for many years. He’d kept his stiffened hand up to God’s face with a willful “Not now.” His authentic surrender was nothing short of a mountain-moving miracle.
Can I get an amen?
Er, that is, “Can I get an AMEN?!” (me shouting – before those yapping stones beat me to it)
Because far be it from me to be outdone by a stone.