Text: Mark 11:1-11 & Mark 15:1-15
The year was 1982, the beginning of my sophomore year at Gardner-Webb College. I had just been elected president of my sophomore class. In addition to being class president I held an elected position in BSU—the Baptist Student Union—and was a group leader in FCA, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. I know, balance has never been my strong point! On top of my campus/social responsibilities I started my sophomore year with a class load of eighteen hours—three of those hours was a geology class that consisted of all senior geology majors, except for me. I knew nothing about geology—I still don’t. Still, in my mind my sophomore year promised to be a year filled with opportunity, challenge, and excitement. It was the BEST of times.
There was another story, however, underneath and behind that whirlwind of activity. And here is the other part of my sophomore year story. At the end of my freshman year my parents had called a meeting with me. Their interest, they relayed to me when setting up the meeting, was to see how my freshman year had gone and what my plans were as I prepared to start my sophomore year. As we began the conversation, I couldn’t help but detect the look of concern on their faces. My mind raced. Had they found out about the weekend I had gone with some friends across the state line to a bar? Or had they received my grades and saw where I had made a C in my history class. Not wanting to show my concern, I played along answering their question about how I thought my freshman year had gone. “Great!” I said. “I love college. All of my classes were interesting and I met a lot of new friends.” “Well,” they responded, “that’s what we want to talk with you about—these new friends.”