Telling the Story

…and they were amazed at His teaching, for His message was with authority.

-Luke 4:32

On my second trip to Russia this year (I can’t believe I took a second trip either), my sweet fiancée and I visited Moscow and Saint Petersburg.  I could tell perhaps a hundred stories from that visit.  I could tell you about becoming overwhelmed in the Moscow Metro.  I could tell you about our existential crisis in the Hermitage Museum.  I could even tell you about our varied encounters with Asian tourists.

However, one of my favorite memories of our Russia adventure was our visit to the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood.  The church is named in memory the Russian Tsar who was assassinated in the very location the church was built.

In addition to having a pretty spectacular name, the church itself is one of the most awe-inspiring things I have ever witnessed.  It is dripping in mosaic tiles, having arguably the most mosaics of any structure with tiles covering over 7,500 square meters.  It took over 20 years to build and, like most churches, suffered from vandalism and neglect under the Soviets.

Nevertheless, when you walk through the doorway of this onion-domed cathedral you are immediately thrust an elaborately beautiful depiction of the gospel.  Each mosaic section was roughly 10 feet tall and each one depicts a different scene from Jesus’ life.

Towering above the crowds of people you see Jesus teaching the disciples, breaking bread, walking on water, and blessing little children.  My personal favorite was a mosaic of Jesus and the women at the well from John’s Gospel.  The clarity of the images was phenomenal despite being composed entirely of tiny, colored tiles.

It’s difficult for me to overstate how moved I was at this site.  I was surrounded by the story of Jesus.  The Story.  The one I knew but somehow I still needed to be told.  I felt as if I had been bathed in the gospel; that the truest and deepest parts of Jesus’ life had penetrated my core, my soul.

Looking back, I am reminded of the wonderful hymn “The Old, Old Story:”

Tell me the old, old story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.
Tell me the story simply, as to a little child,
For I am weak and weary, and helpless and defiled.

Tell me the story slowly, that I may take it in,
That wonderful redemption, God’s remedy for sin.
Tell me the story often, for I forget so soon;
The early dew of morning has passed away at noon.

Tell me the old, old story, tell me the old, old story,
Tell me the old, old story, of Jesus and His love.

There are many ways to read scripture.  We read scripture to learn and to find answers.  We  read in times of stress or worry. Yet, it is also important to engage the gospel with the expectation to be amazed.

Even during Jesus’ lifetime he was literally amazing his followers.  His teaching, his miracles, and his presence had a tendency to overwhelm those around him.  His disciples would lose themselves in awe and wonder.

Being lost in wonder is the heart of true worship, and that wonder holds the potential to transform the soul.  The words and actions of Jesus still hold the power to bring the believer into a state of awe, even if we have heard the story a thousand times.

Although we may not always be in a beautiful or awe-inspiring place, I believe that we need only open our hearts in order to be lost in wonder to the story of Jesus.