There are several moments in history that I would have liked to witness.

June 14, 1998. Game 6. Michael Jordan hits the game winner over Byron Russell to lift the Chicago Bulls over the Utah Jazz to win the 1996 NBA Finals.

March 28, 1992. Duke vs Kentucky.
Grant Hill inbounds the ball to the other end of the court. Christian Laettner manages to catch it, dribble, make a spin move and score as time expired.

July 13, 1985. My parents’ wedding day.

It isn’t all basketball.

But of all the moments our world has seen, none can compare to the Last Supper.

Or as we remember it today, Maundy Thursday.

Jesus sat shoulder to shoulder with those who were closest to him for one final meal before His betrayal.

His time on earth was coming to a close.

Soon, He would be going to the cross.

Pain. Suffering. Torture. Embarrassment. Death.

All were in His near future.

Yet, for one last time He gathered together with those He was closest to.

Even those who would betray Him.

And this meal was unlike any other.

He broke bread and poured wine.

He spoke words of life, hope, and power; words that would echo for centuries.

He washed the dirt from their feet.

He gave them a meal of a lifetime.

And He did this all for us as well.

All so that we may have everlasting life through His life, death, and resurrection.

Can you imagine being in that room?

To witness a humility unlike any other.
To witness a love unlike any other.
To witness a hope unlike any other.

To taste the bread and wine.
To feel the water fall across your dirty feet.
To sit in the presence of a King.

And through all of this, He claims us His.
He claims us significant.
He welcomes us to the table.

With hope,

Tanner Olson
Written to Speak

Lyrics to Looking Back

Looking back, that day went similar to most of the others.

We followed Jesus and He spoke to those who approached.

He healed the sick and broke.

He invited every foot to follow Him

He knelt to the sunken, the lost and assured hearts He came to save them.

He listened to their stories with a grin.

Most fumbled their words, but He showed patience and slowly stretched out His hopeful hands.

And when He stretched them, then did they begin to understand who was this one man.

Looking back to that night, that was the night that brought us all closer.

Out our second story window the city glowed bright as the wind blew in, mixing with our banter.

The conversation fell when Jesus rose, not from the grave, but from the floor days before.

A serious look came across His face as we sat up straight.

With a basin full and towel He knelt to our feet.

The water swallowed our dirty soles, as His hands washed clean the dark, deep stain they carried

The dirt of the room taken on by One.

His hands soaked wet in our mud, while we sat spotless in the shadow of a King.

But He looked at us no different than before.

And in that moment we were one.

All of us together, under the same roof, at the same table.

We were one.

Looking back, this all makes more sense.

Those final days He served, He washed, He taught, and He broke bread all before He bled.

He knew our time was coming down to the line.

In a few short hours we'd betray and He'd be led away, 

He'd be left hung dry to die and all we'd be left with were memories and words of life.

Looking back it was the common things He used to show His love, 

to connect us as one.

Water.

Words.

Bread.

And Wine.

He intently spoke words of love and those words we still speak.

To love one another just as He.

To wash each other's feet.

To remember Him when we meet.

Welcome to the table.

Welcome to the table.

The same table we sat with the King of Kings.

The same table we sat where He washed our stain clean.

The same table where love is seen.

The same table where bread and wine come alive.

The same table where hope survives.

The same table where a seat has been left open for you.

Welcome to the table.