In Old Testament times, God summoned his people to Jerusalem three times a year, in pilgrimage. They were to appear before the Lord at the three high festivals—Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles. You know from the gospels that Jesus himself made that trip a few times, as well as one last time.

Today we begin our annual pilgrimage of sorts. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of our 40-day trek through the Passion History of our Lord, visiting familiar places along the way and culminating with us gathered, in spirit, in the upper room, at the foot of the cross, and at the entrance of the empty tomb. Forty days—for the 40 days in the wilderness, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, when he battled temptation to remain sinless for us.

Moses came down from Mt. Sinai after he had been meeting with the Lord for the past forty days (Exodus 34:28-29). He carried two stone tablets containing the Ten Commandments. This is the second time this has happened. The first time Moses came down from Mt. Sinai, he smashed the two tablets after finding the Israelites worshiping a golden calf. The first tablets were carved by the finger of God. This time, the Lord instructed Moses to “chisel out two stone tablets like the first ones” (Exodus 34:1). Since Moses broke the first set, it was natural that he should replace them with new ones.

This time, when Moses came down the mountain, the Israelites had behaved themselves in Moses’ absence. They were gathered to hear what God had to say to them.

When someone asks, “How are you?” You will usually reply, “Fine” or “Good.”

If you ask me how I’m doing, I will reply, “Fantastic!” My dad will answer, “Better than I deserve.” I know one pastor who will always respond, “I’m living the dream!”

But what if you aren’t fantastic or fine? What if you feel like God is pounding on you because of what you deserve? What if your life seems more like a nightmare than a dream?

What did Jesus see in Simon Peter? Or in Peter’s brother, Andrew? Or James or John, the sons of Zebedee?

I suppose Jesus saw hardworking fishermen washing their nets on the shore.

But Jesus saw more in these four men. He saw men who were afraid of not catching enough fish to provide for their families or keep their fishing business afloat. He saw men who were keenly aware of their sinfulness and unworthiness. For after Jesus provides a miraculous catch of fish, Simon Peter fell at Jesus’ feet and cried out, “Go away from me, Lord! I am a sinful man” (Luke 5:8).

Several years ago, I went to the doctor because it hurt to lift my right arm above my head. It was really hindering my shot-blocking ability in basketball. The doctor sent me to the physical therapist. While she was writing in her notebook, with her head down focusing on her notes, she asked me, “How long has your arm been hurting?”

Eleazar was in tears.

Eleazar was 10 years old when his family were ripped out of their home by King Nebuchadnezzar’s forces. He and his siblings, his parents, his cousins and neighbors who lived with him in Jerusalem were chained together and led on the 900-mile march from Jerusalem to Babylon.

Life in Babylon was surprisingly satisfactory. Eleazar was able to grow up, learn, work and socialize. Life seemed rather normal. But he never forgot that he and the rest of his people were strangers in a strange land. Though they weren’t in chains or in prison, they were still captives to their foreign invaders.

They were captives for 70 years.

The parents have tried for so long to have a child. Finally, they are excited to announce to their friends and family that God has blessed them with that child. Then months later comes the heart-wrenching news that the new mother suffered a miscarriage.

The father of four learns he has cancer. He seeks treatment and the Lord blesses the treatment, so the doctor’s report is that the father is now cancer-free. Then half a year later, the cancer comes back with a vengeance. This time, there is no cure.

Last Sunday before worship, I sat down next to 7-year-old Adelina. She told me, “I’m nervous about being baptized next week.” I teased her, “Well I’m not nervous. I’ve done this lots of times.”

Then I told her, “When you’re baptized next Sunday, I’m going to get your head wet … and then my eyes are going to get wet.”

This morning in the early service, Bob, who is in his 60s was baptized and confirmed. In the late service, Allicia was baptized and confirmed and her four children, Angel, Ayden, Grace, and Adelina, also received the cleansing bath of baptism over their heads.

Charlie had been in a serious car accident. While he was fortunate to escape life-threatening injury, when his vehicle crashed and the airbag deployed, he almost bit off his tongue. A surgeon was called to stitch the severed portion. But the doctor gave no guarantee. He said, “It may heal and you will speak again, or it may not.”

Several months went by in complete silence. Finally, the stitches were removed and people wondered, “What would be the first words Charlie would speak?” Cautiously, Charlie positioned his tongue and said, “Praise the Lord!”

“Did you see his face?” Mary bit back a sob as she continued trudging up the rocky slope.

Joseph shook his head. “Mary, every boy looks like that the first time they see the lamb slaughtered. There is a stark contrast with the red blood on the white wool. They don’t realize what death is yet. They don’t realize what it is to sacrifice a lamb. And it was his first Passover, Mary. Of course, he looked like that.”

“No. No. Joseph, it was something more than that. It was like … it was like he was seeing his own death.”

Joseph and Mary had spent the past seven days in Jerusalem celebrating the high festival of the Feast of the Passover. This feast celebrated the redemption of the people of Israel from Egypt and was observed in the spring of the year. It was the most important of the Jewish festivals and the law required all males to attend.