Summary: This is a first person dramatic monologue, spoken from the perspective of the beggar healed by Peter and John through the power of Jesus Christ. It covers the material about him in Acts chapter 3 and 4.
[The following is a dramatic monologue, spoken from the perspective of the beggar healed by Peter and John through the power of Jesus Christ. It covers the material about him in Acts chapter 3 and 4].
[This was inspired, an in fact the first part is a direct borrowing of the material, by a sermon by Denn Guptill that can be found at: http://www.sermoncentral.com/sermons/get-on-your-feet-denn-guptill-sermon-on-apostles-peter-30746.asp
It was a day, just a day like any other day. My brothers had gotten me out of bed and gotten me dressed. And on their way to work they carried me to my usual spot at the temple gate.
It was just a day, the sky wasn't any bluer, the birds didn't sing any louder, the sun didn't shine any brighter, it was just a day. Just a day, like any other day. And yet before it was finished it would be unlike any other day in my life.
It was just a day. And as I lay with my shrivelled, twisted legs extended in front of me, I thought of all the days I had laid in front of the temple gate and how those days stretched out like an endless horizon before me.
I wasn’t allowed to go into the temple. I was disabled and disregarded. I knew that as a beggar I was what folks considered one of the lowest have-nots.
I was a man unable to work, a man who could only beg as my only hope to stay alive.
I was cut off from the temple and all it meant in Israel: God’s presence, being able to offer sacrifice, receiving atonement for my sins, just to name a few.
And on this day that was just like any other day, I begged from religious folks on their way into the temple. It’s a good place to beg because when people are on their way to worship God somehow they are just more generous.
Maybe love of man and love of God goes hand in hand. Maybe that was it. Or maybe people gave their loose change to ease their consciences as they went to prayer at the temple!
The fantastic temple, the second temple, the one that Herod had rebuilt as a monument...to his own name. Took him 46 years. It was known as Herod’s Temple. Herod went all out, with gold-decorated roofs and marble columns.
The stones used in the construction were so incredibly white that, from a distance, it looked like a mountain of snow. The sun's reflection from the on it made it painful for onlookers to see.
It was just a day. And I looked down at the useless limbs stretched out on the blanket as I was being carried in. They were mine, but they weren't even a part of me, I had never felt them, really; never had control to move them where I wanted them to go. Never ran as a boy, never walked as a man.
And today was just a day, no better and no worse than all the other days that had made up my life, the life of this poor crippled beggar. But without my knowledge and without my consent today would become the day I would never forget.
And today would take me from being a beggar destined for an obscure life and obscure death, a nameless, lost soul, and today I would find my name.
I would discover my worth. I would learn that there was a God in heaven who cares for me, and who reaches down from glory, through the hands of men in order to lift me up.
I was being carried pretty roughly by my brothers, a helpless feeling, but a familiar one. I hated being so dependant, but it was a feeling that I was use to it.
We’re on the way to the gate called Beautiful. A beautiful gate that only the beautiful, the fully-abled, the blessed I guess, were allowed to walk through.
And as I’m being carried I see two fellows, and I ask them: “Brother, can you spare a dime?” My need is kind of obvious.
My broken and useless body was pretty clear evidence of my need. Surely these fine gentlemen, walking confidently to the temple to worship at the appointed time - surely they would give me something. A toonie, A loonie. A quarter?
And maybe, just maybe, they would look me in the eye when they stopped for a second. That was always something else.
A person who stops and smiles. That always felt as good, even better, than when they would just throw their change my way.
But then the man, the bearded man with a loud, low voice came up to me, looked me straight in the eye and he said the strangest thing.