“All right—this is a toss for the sandals.”
“How about the cloak?”
“Come on—hurry up—it’s my turn!”. . .
Casting lots for the possessions of Christ. Heads ducked. Eyes downward. Cross forgotten. The symbolism is striking. Do you see it? I’m thinking of us. Those who claim heritage at the cross. The stuffy. The loose. The evangelical. The Spirit-filled. Ameners. Robes. Collars. I’m thinking of us!
“Those selfish soldiers,” we smirk. And yet, are we so different? Our divisions are so numerous we can’t be cataloged. Is it that impossible for us to find a common cause? “May they all be one,” Jesus prayed. One church. One faith. One Lord. Just Christians. No hierarchies. No traditions. Just Christ. Can we be the soldier who jumps to his feet and reminds the rest of us, “Hey, that’s God on that cross!” …It’s just a thought.
