Once I had the opportunity to teach two brothers, who were about a year apart in age. They had probably heard the word, “Jesus” but when they started coming to class in December they were amazed to find where Christmas came from. I’m sure they’d seen cards and manger figures but they didn’t know who was nestled in the straw. The boys listened quietly and carefully every week to the teachings of Christ, and  were amazing at the miracles and seemed touched by His love and care for the people around him but something  shook them to the core midway through the year.

In the spring one lesson showed Jesus taking on punishment for our wrong doings. The next week Christ was arrested; the boys were angry, were not silent this time but I kept teaching. They were amazed at the putting back of the soldier’s ear, even though he was acting as an enemy. They were again angry at His fake trial, but evidently they expected him to perform a miracle and get away like a TV movie character or that His father would step in and save the day and show up all the bad guys. They expected the same justice and love Jesus gave out to come to his rescue.

I told my class those people Jesus loved did kill Him.

Both boys broke into tears.The entire class, including me, were shaken, not so much by the two boys bent double in their chairs weeping but because of them. This was not a distant even, we were there with our crying class mates at the crucifixion, it was as if we knew this for the first time. When I could speak I say, “Wait, wait,you’ve got to hear what comes next.” I’ve never seen boys so relived when their God had not been killed by men.  nancymauerman.com

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