Out Our Way: "Charlie's Trailer" - John 12: 31 - 32

Out our way, there is something special about the end of the trail. After a hard day of riding in some often tough country, there finally comes the time to finish and head for home. If there was ever a time I did not need spurs or a quirt with Doc it was when we turned around and headed for the barn.

Charlie transported us out to the Tiger in his big pickup and large red horse trailer which we we parked down by the first gate. Then up into the hills and along various trails as we rode fence, checked units, and now and then moved cattle. Doc did all the work, but I certainly felt the hours in the saddle, and when it was time to head back, I was ready. But Doc was even more so.

Long before we hit that final ridge where we could see the trailer waiting, Doc had already picked up the pace, his head up high and despite the sweat that flew off his neck and back, he seemed to have a new lift to his trot and was ready to break into a canter or gallop the moment I loosed the reins. Indeed, I had to rein him him like a young colt when he spotted the end of the trail and that red trailer in the pasture.

Now that we have entered the season of Lent, things pick up in the Gospel story for this is the time to remember the “end of the trail” for Christ’s earthly mission. There is a sense of urgency in making this last trip to Jerusalem and celebrating the Passover for the last time with His disciles. It is a time of anxiety for all — for Jesus knew of Gethsemane and Calvary. He tried to warn His disciples of it, but they were not willing to accept it. Calvary was the end of the trail to their minds. Yet Christ knew better.

Years ago, a black preacher proclaimed a marvelous message called, “It’s Friday but Sunday’s Coming.”

   The theme began with the reality of Gethsemane — the emptiness, the fear — yes, even Christ knew fear — the sense of abandonment by His disciples who could not stay with him in the darkest night — and of course the betrayal by Judas, one of His own.

Then came the mock trials, the rabble rousing priests and rabbis who worked up the ignorant crowd into near rioting mobs — and even Peter denying him. Beaten near to death with the flogging, forced to carry the cross piece through the jeering crowds to Calvary, nailed to the cross, ridiculed and mocked by his enemies who had largely turned the crowds against Him with their “fake news” and openly false accusations. Many of the ignorant and foolish actually came to believe it. And then there was his mother’s heartbreak displayed before Him as she screamed her agony.

Finally, He died. The Romans ran a lance into his heart to be sure before they would allow his body to be taken down, for under Roman Law — the executors’ lives would be forfeit should anyone escape death on the cross. Normally the bodies of the crucified were simply thrown into the dump, for the dead had to be disposed of before sundown and there was no time to dig a grave and bury the body.

But a wealthy man and secret follower offered the use of his own tomb near at hand, and the body was laid there. The tomb was closed with a large stone and then sealed. Later guards were placed to prevent the body to be taken away. Indeed, it was the end of the trail. Or was it?

Though Jesus told His disciples about Good Friday — He also told them that Sunday was coming! The sorrows of the garden, the humiliation of the mock trial, the betrayal of Judas and the abandonment of His closest followers, the brutal flogging, further humiliation and torture of His hideous death  were all known to Him. But He also knew that the tomb was not the end. Death itself was about to die.

On the third day He arose from the dead, appeared to His disciples and many others, and ascended into Heaven with the promise He would be coming back.

Lent is a time remember the whole story, especially when we are facing our own dark Gethsemane. Although the dark nights and emptiness can come at any time in our lives, one might think the darkest nights are those at trail’s end. We can, like the disciples, think that the grave is the end — or we might, like Christ, know it’ s just “Charlie’s Trailer” taking us home.

Those last miles of hard trail, when we are worn out, weary and barely plodding along might seem to be the hardest part of the ride.  But then I think of Doc — breathing hard and head low, sensing Charlie’s Trailer is over that next ridge. Suddenly his heart beats faster with anticipation, his head comes up and his ears stand straight up. He nostrils flare, his mane flows out, and sometimes he lets loose with a joyous whinney.

It is the end of the trail on the Tiger Ridge, but the start of the journey back to the barn.

Lent is ment to help us ride the hard trail and remember — but also to prepare us for the joyful siting of “Charlie’s Trailer”. Like the man says, “It may be Friday — but Sunday’s coming!”

Blessings,

Brother John