The late Bob Benson told stories of everyday life in simple ways that illustrated great biblical truths. For this year’s Easter meditation, we’ve selected this excerpt from his 1974 book, Come Share the Being. — Austin
What was it that drew men to Jesus? Yes, he spoke with authority and he did deeds of miracle and wonder, but I really think the one thing that men could not ignore was the compassion and love that drained out of His heart and on to His face and words and deeds.
Jesus’ love was love beyond retrieval. We are all very careful, generally, to love in such a way so that if it doesn’t turn out well, we can back away without having lost much pride, or face. As long as you don’t say “I care,” you’re okay because no matter how it turns out you can always say it didn’t matter anyway. You can’t be hurt because you don’t care.
But Jesus said, “I care.” If you follow me, I care. If you deny me, I care. If you recognize who I am, I care. If you cannot see yet what I have come to do, I care. Whichever way you go, whatever you do, however it turns out, I care.
And you do not go beyond the bounds of His caring — ever, anywhere, at anytime. His love is not based upon your worth or merit; it is based on the steadfast, unchanging quality and attitude of his being, “the very being of God.”
In John 13:1, Jesus spoke of His “hour” (that is, the time for the cross) having come. He spoke of it as the one focal hour for which He had been born. It was the hour for which He had lived. And the verse explains a bit more about it as it says, “He had always loved His own who were in the world, and now He was going to show the full extent of His love.” The finest hour of His life was going to be at the very place when He showed the deepest point of His love. Not the day He preached the Sermon on the Mount, not the day He fed the five thousand, not the times He saved or healed or blessed, but His “hour,” the noblest hour of His life was to become, as it revealed to the world, the fullest extent of His love.
Nearly a year ago Peg and I had a very hard week. Wednesday night: Mike slept downstairs in his room — where children belong and we slept upstairs in ours where moms and dads belong. Thursday night: We were 350 miles away and he was in Ramada 325 and we were in 323 — connecting rooms and we left the door open and talked and laughed together. Friday night: 700 miles from home and he was in 247 and we were in 239 but it was just down the balcony and somehow we seemed together. Sunday night: We were home and he was 700 miles away in Chapman 309.
Now we have been through this before. Bob Jr. had gone away to college and we had gathered ourselves together until we had gotten over it — mainly because he’s married now and he only lives 10 miles away and comes to visit often with Deb and Robert the III.
So we thought we knew how to handle separation pretty well but we came away so lonely and blue. Oh, our hearts were filled with pride at a fine young man and our minds were filled with memories from tricycles to commencements, but deep down inside somewhere we just ached with loneliness and pain.
Somebody said you still have three at home — three fine kids and there is still plenty of noise — plenty of ball games to go to — plenty of responsibilities — plenty of laughter — plenty of everything . . . except Mike. And in parental math, five minus one just doesn’t equal plenty.
And I was thinking about God. He sure has plenty of children — plenty of artists, plenty of singers, and carpenters, and candlestick makers, and preachers, plenty of everybody . . . except you. And all of them together can never take your place. And there will always be an empty spot in His heart — and a vacant chair at His table when you’re not home.
And if once in a while it seems He’s crowding you a bit — try to understand. It may be one of those nights when He misses you so much He can hardly stand it.
This is the Father that Jesus came to reveal and there is no greater song or hymn than the one you learned early in Sunday School: Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. The Bible tells me so.
