Voices
-B. Thomas Clark

The room is large and crowded. Over the commotion you can hear the voices of your friends. Some are saying, “Come with us tonight, there’s going to be a great party. There’ll be dancing, and booze, and a whole lot of cleavage.” Somewhere in the room you hear a faint whisper. Another of your friends says, “Don’t be afraid to have a drink. Alcohol isn’t bad if used in moderation, and one drink won’t hurt you.” You can almost swear someone is calling your name, but the voice is unfamiliar.

A small group of friends sees the people you are with and approaches you with this advice of their own; “You don’t need to be with these bozos, they aren’t true friends. We are your real friends, come with us and we’ll show you a good time and give you acceptance.” The unfamiliar voice gets louder, but so do all the others. It’s a world of confusion like you’ve never experienced before. Suddenly everyone wants something out of you. There are so many voices, every one of them promising acceptance, popularity, friendship; things you’ve wanted all your life. Yet something doesn’t feel right.

The lights dim. The people disappear, and the voices fade. Except for one. It is the one you couldn’t recognize earlier, but you know it all to well now. Standing in the dark room are just two figures... You, and Jesus. “I figured this might help you hear me.” He says softly. He senses your questions and knows what you are going through. He knows that you are afraid. He knows that the mask you wear isn't the real you. He knows that you don't like what you've become but that you can't find your way out. “This isn’t like you. You used to be able to tune out all the others and focus on me. Now, you seek acceptance and my voice is muffled.” His voice is filled with longing and you notice a tear glinting out of the corner of his eye. You can tell by his expression that he misses you, that he longs for the days when you listened to him and when you valued his friendship more than the acceptance of others. Seeing him like this causes you to have the same desire and makes you teary eyed as well. Rather than force himself on you, or point fingers, he asks you just one kind, simple, loving question. “Is this what you want?”

Is it? Everywhere you turn there are voices. Some of them are loud and pushy, some are demanding, others demeaning. Some are offering something while others are making deals. Some are short and seductive. They are the voices of the crowd and while their tones may be vastly different, they are all calling for the same thing. Compromise. They all want you to give something up or start something new. They want you to be more like them and they will do their best to mold you into something acceptable to them. Something that was never you to begin with.

Then there’s the other voice. It is a unique voice unlike any other. It comes as a soft whisper that you will only hear if you are truly listening. The gentle loving voice of Jesus. The very one who created you and even gave up all he had for you calls your name in affectionate and loving tones. His voice is different from all the others. He cares about you, the person. Not the body, not the mind, not what you say, what you do, or where you are. None of that matters to him. He loves you for you. He accepts you as you are and would never pressure you to change.

The crowd of voices pulling you in sixteen different directions could never care about you as much as this one voice that overcomes all the confusion. They wouldn't take the time. He will. They have no idea how much confusion they are causing you, no idea what you are being put through. He does. He’s been there.

That morning he was told that his friend, John the Baptist, had been beheaded. John as the only one at that time that Jesus could easily relate to. They were the only two people that had felt God’s hand on their life, knew His will, and had His calling so prominently placed in their lives. Now John was dead and Jesus was alone. He had also been told that Herod would be after his head next. Just what he needed. Jesus was facing a knock-down, drag-out emotional struggle and what he wanted most was to be alone with his Father. He had so many personal issues to work out with Him in prayer and needed the comfort that only a quiet retreat could offer.

Just when he was down on his knees seeking relief, the crowd came. Thousands of voices, all expecting something different of him and all wanting something more out of him. They wanted moral teaching. He gave it to them. They wanted him to make them happy. This didn’t come easily. How could he give them happiness when he was in a state of great loss and emotional angst? Somehow, he gave it to them, even though he knew it would anger the authorities and possibly give Herod the extra motivation to capture him. They wanted miracles. That was the last thing he felt like doing on this particular morning. He performed them anyway.

They wanted to make him their king. That’s pressure. Become a king, lead a huge rebellious army, and reign with glory and honor. Remain a servant and die on a cross with pain and humility. Which choice sounds more appealing? On the one hand, there is the voice of the crowd. On the other, the voice of God. Over 5,000 people shouting and hailing him as their king. One God, softly proclaiming Him as Son. One promised a kingdom right here on earth where he could live all his days in paradise. The other promised a kingdom of 12, an angry mob, a wooden beam, and a hollow tomb. The crowd wanted a leader. What they needed was a servant. They wanted him to wear the crown. God wanted him to wear a different crown. They wanted him clothed in splendor. For his mission to be complete, he needed to be clothed in shame.

Hear the shouts as they become earsplittingly loud:

The Crowd: “Let’s arm ourselves and nail those Romans.”
God: “Let the Romans drive the nails.”

The Crowd: “Say good-bye Caesar.”
God: “Good-bye, my son.”

The Crowd: “You can free us from Roman oppression.”
God: “Freedom from sin is more important.”

The Crowd: “Long live Jesus the Christ!”
God: “Two more years.”

The Crowd: “To the palace!”
God: “To the cross.”

This is the stuff stress is made of. Jesus was just as human as the rest of us. Don’t ever think for a moment that he wasn’t at all swayed by the voices of the crowd. The choice was his. He could choose to be their king, or he could choose to die for them. Glory or pain. Victory over the Romans, or victory over sin. The stakes would be high either way. He knew full well what he was supposed to do. That doesn’t mean he wanted to do it. Pain was not something Jesus was ready to have on his agenda, but if there was one thing he knew to do, it was not to focus on the pain he would be experiencing on earth. Jesus remained focused on Heaven. Listen to his words and teachings, the man's mind was always focused on the joys of Heaven over the sorrows of earth. In times of pressure and doubt, Jesus warded the stress away by setting his eyes on his father. He had no reason not to, because God had great plans in store for His son.

There was one more thing that God had promised. His very own kingdom in heaven, sitting at the right hand of the Father. But that was so far off. Right now, He could be king. He could be the one in the palace wearing the garments of royalty and Caesar could be the one on the cross wearing the nails. Jesus could have so much luxury on earth if he went along with the crowd. He could have clean hands with no dirt or grit to be seen anywhere on his body. It beat having five-inch spikes driven through them and being covered in blood.

There were thousands of people, but there were only two voices. The voice of God, and the voice of the crowd. Black and white. There was no gray area. Either Jesus went with God, or he went with the crowd. He couldn’t have both. He had to choose one. Two voices. Two Choices. God, or the crowd. His own will, or God’s will. It’s a tough choice for anyone, and everyone has had to make it at some point.

You have to make it now. Go back to the room and back to your friends. Listen to the hodge podge of voices all begging for a piece of your attention, but don’t ever forget the faint whisper. Are you listening for it? The choice is yours. You can listen to His voice, or theirs. He won’t pressure you. He will ask only one question. “Is this what you want?” You’ve heard His voice. Make your choice. And remember, whatever you choose, He will still accept you. The crowd may not.

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