The Larger Story

I stared across the valley, weaving its way like a desert snake through the landscape of the Judaean Mountains. The brim of my hat was nearly drenched from sweat, and the desert sun stung the back of my neck. Jerusalem’s iconic Old City sprawled out in front of me like an old postcard.

The Dome of the Rock towered above every other building within the city walls. Its gold embossed dome reflected the bright light and sent a blinding glare over the entire city. Through the haze, in the distance, I could see the Tower of David stretch into the sky. To my right, the noon prayer calls erupted from a Muslim minaret, clashing with the chorus of church bells chiming from the Basilica of the Agony behind me.

The taupe-colored stones that saturated the cityscape practically had me convinced I had stepped back into some distant time. I half expected to run into Jesus and His disciples around the next bend of the sidewalk.

We were at the top of the Mount of Olives, overlooking the Kidron Valley into the Old City of Jerusalem. I had been invited by Pastor Perry Noble to accompany him and forty other folks on a ten-day tour of the Holy Land. Visiting Israel had always been on my bucket list, and when NewSpring Church offered to cover my way, I certainly couldn’t refuse. Now, I was experiencing a once-in-a-lifetime trip that, for me, was more timely and pivotal to my healing than I could have anticipated.

Since losing Amanda in November, I had been seeing life in one color—gray. It was the middle of April now, we were on day six of this trip, and I was already beginning to feel color being injected back into my life. There seemed to be a consistent theme that followed us with each stop we made: the powerful things God does throughout history to reverse evil’s work in the world.

I was still ruminating over the experience I’d had in Caesarea Maritima three days before. We had been traveling from Tel Aviv to Galilee and stopped en route at the ruined site of Herod Agrippa’s palace—along with the iconic gladiator arena on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea. The tour guide ushered us into a massive amphitheater, mostly still intact despite the centuries of battering it had endured from the salty ocean air.

My friend and fellow pastor Brad Cooper took on the teaching role that day. I had known Brad since college. He was part of the leadership of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes at Clemson University while I was pioneering our chapter of FCA at Southern Wesleyan. As former college athletes and enthusiastic ministry leaders, we formed an immediate bond. He and I would often get together at Dyar’s, a local meat-and-three diner that quickly and aptly became nicknamed “Diarrhea’s,” to talk ministry, sports, and life.

Brad became a big brother to me. He left his role at FCA to lead the student ministry at NewSpring Church and it was largely his influence that connected me to a staff position there after I graduated college. It was also his office I sat in as I wept over the transition from NewSpring to planting a church in Indy.

He flew up to Amanda’s celebration service and after that was a voice of wisdom and encouragement through some of the most difficult days. I was getting to spend a lot of quality time with him on this trip, which proved to be just the shot of spiritual adrenaline I needed. We all took our seats and plugged in our tour guide headphones as he began to teach.

“What you’re sitting in right now is the very amphitheater where the apostle Paul gave his testimony to Festus and Herod Agrippa. You can read about it in Acts 25 and 26. This setting, the ruins of the ancient city of Caesarea Maritima has powerful implications.

“Over my right shoulder you see the remains of Herod’s Palace overlooking the ocean. When we walk down there, you’re going to notice something. Herod was demonstratively ostentatious.”

Brad paused for dramatic emphasis, and I looked to the person next to me and grinned. We were all thinking the same thing: Ostentatious, Brad? Really? Brad was notorious for using million-dollar words. Everyone who had ever sat under his teaching knew it and often had their pocket dictionary handy.

He took a breath and continued, “In fact, he was so arrogant, he built a massive fresh-water pool in the middle of the salt-water ocean. He ordered thousands of gallons of freshwater be funneled in from inland via aqueducts just to maintain his pool. He made sure to establish his governance as a symbol of the power and might of the Roman Empire.

“What’s important to note is that, according to the Jewish people, the Roman Empire represented one thing: evil. The extent of this evil is perhaps best demonstrated by the gladiator arena you see over my left shoulder.” He turned in that direction. “As we walk into the arena in a few minutes, you’ll see names carved in the rock of early Christians who suffered grotesque fates at the hands of the Roman government.”

Gladiator arenas. The pure dominance and evil of Rome. This was beginning to sound all too familiar to me. I leaned forward to listen more intently to what Brad was saying, now curious to get a closer look at the two sites he had just described.

“As much evil as was orchestrated here in Caesarea Maritima, you also need to know there was another pivotal incident that occurred in this ancient city—one that shapes who you and I are today.” We all held our breath to hear what he was going to say next. He paused for a moment, as if holding in a secret, and then said, “The first Gentile to receive Jesus’ offer of salvation lived right here in Caesarea.”

A bit confused as to why this was so significant, I cocked my head in Brad’s direction as he continued.

“If you recall, at that time the Jews believed salvation and right relationship with God was only available to their own race—the Jewish people. They were God’s chosen people of old. Jesus was Jewish, so naturally they considered themselves members of an exclusive club. But let me ask you something, is anyone sitting in this group today Jewish?”

Everyone glanced around, looking at the group to see if anyone would respond affirmatively.

No one did.

“No?” Brad continued. “That means we would all be labeled ‘Gentiles.’ Anyone not Jewish by ethnicity is a Gentile. So let me ask you something. If the promise of salvation was only extended to Jewish people, how have any of us experienced it? Each of you has stepped into relationship with God through the sacrifice of His son, Jesus, right?”

Everyone nodded. “Then how do you suppose that occurred?” Brad asked.

I’m sure he noticed the blatantly inquisitive looks on all of our faces and decided to quickly answer his own rhetorical question. “Because someone went first. His name was Cornelius.” We were all riveted as Brad continued.

“Cornelius was a Roman centurion, an official of the Roman army, stationed here in Caesarea Maritima. Ironically, he just might have been on a trajectory to become one of the commanders ordered to execute early Christians in the arena in front of you. But one day, Cornelius was told the good news that Jesus died for him so that he could have new life and he received the gift of salvation and forgiveness of sins! And listen, folks, in the very place where some of the worst atrocities of all of history occurred, the gospel was made available to all people, not only the Jews. Cornelius was Patient Zero and you’re sitting at Ground Zero.”

I just sat there. Paralyzed. Overwhelmed. Here it was again. Out of the gravest of monstrosities, God once again brought forth new life. Could He really do this in my situation? This seemed to be a consistent theme in history, but is the God from history the same one that holds my circumstances too?

Brad pivoted on his right foot and motioned at the structure surrounding us. “This amphitheater happens to be the only Roman amphitheater that faces west. Every other ancient Roman theater faces a different direction. Here’s what this means: Cornelius gets saved, opening salvation up to all people. Consequently the gospel gets catapulted westward, boom!”

Brad made an explosion motion with his hands toward the Mediterranean Sea to the West. “It was almost as if the gospel were amplified directly from the stadium where we sit this very moment. Sure, because of this place, hundreds and thousands lost their life. But also because of this place, you and I had the chance to respond to new life in Christ Jesus!”

Brad elevated his voice to emphasize his next point. “This city is a physical reminder of what the Bible says in Genesis 50:20, ‘You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.’ How many of you are grateful today that God uses what the Enemy means for evil and turns it around for our good … and in doing so brings others to faith in Christ?!”

People all around me began clapping. I sat there, stunned, as goosebumps crept up the back of my neck. I slowly turned my head and stared at the whitecaps crashing over the rocky shore. Here I was, a Gentile who knows Jesus because of what was done in Caesarea Maritima—because of the good news that was preached and because of the evil that took place. All I could think was, A hundred years from now, how many people will possibly say, “I know Jesus better because of the evil inflicted on the Blackburn family, because of Amanda Blackburn’s death?”

Already my family and ministry team were receiving a barrage of messages, telling us how Amanda’s story was touching so many. Thousands were writing in and sharing the impact it was making in their own life.

What the Enemy means for evil, God uses for good …

As the applause died down, Brad turned the floor over to Gilla, our Israeli tour guide. She escorted the group down the steps and across the walkway that led to the ruins of Herod’s Palace. I remained pensive in my seat. Brad glanced back at me, noticed me staring out at the arena in the distance, and made his way to my side. He sat down next to me and put his arm around me. “What the Enemy means for evil, God uses for good, and for the saving of many lives. Davey, that was true back then and it’s true today. The same God who did it back then is the same God who is walking through this with you, and He will do it in your life.”

I stared in disbelief through tear-stained eyes. I didn’t disbelieve that God could do it in my life. I was in utter disbelief and awe that God cared enough for me and for my situation to make sure I made it to Israel to be present for this moment. It felt like He had orchestrated it all just for me, like I was the only one in that amphitheater, the only one on this trip. It was as if Jesus Himself was guiding me to each site and whispering to me:

Davey, this world is much bigger than your world. History is much bigger than your lifetime. I know it’s painful, but don’t get so bogged down in your circumstances that you fail to miss the larger story of what I’m doing in history. You and Amanda always prayed to be a part of something much bigger than yourselves, and now you are. I know you would have never asked for this nor wished it on anyone else, and neither would I have, but I’m going to use this for good. What the Enemy means for evil, I mean for good … and for the saving of many, many lives.

Now as I stared across the gaping Kidron Valley into the Old City of Jerusalem, I could still feel the lingering weight of that day in Caesarea Maritima. Other tourists bustled around me, nudging their way to the railing at the edge of the precipice in an effort to capture that perfect selfie with the Dome of the Rock peering through the background.

In the swirl of the hustle around me, all I could think about was just how God was going to turn this around for good. I hear it, God. I just don’t know if I can see it yet.

I had no idea that what was about to happen next would begin to settle my quandary, bring clarity to my questions, and would forever stand out to me as one of the single greatest “God-moments” of this entire journey.

Adapted from Nothing is Wasted: A True Story of Hope, Forgiveness, and Finding Purpose in Pain by Davey Blackburn (Forefront Books). Copyright © 2024. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Davey Blackburn
Davey Blackburnhttps://DaveyBlackburn.com

Davey Blackburn is an author, speaker, coach and host of The Nothing Is Wasted Podcast.