Many people look forward to Friday. For students and many workers, it marks the end of the working week and heralds the weekend. For many, it may also be payday! Fridays represent accomplishment; completion of work done, reward for recent efforts; a measure of our success. We chant “T.G.I.F.”– “Thank God it’s Friday.” But we might just as easily say, “Thank God it’s Finished!”
We’re in the Lenten season, leading up to Easter, and, of course, Good Friday. Much more significant than any ordinary Friday, Good Friday is the day we remember the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ. It was on that day that Jesus Himself cried, “It Is Finished!” just before He took his last breath.
On that first “Good Friday” there seemed to be little reason for celebration. Jesus had been found guilty in a hasty, overnight trial, by the Jewish Sanhedrin for saying that He was the Son of God– Blasphemy if one is NOT God, but simple truth if one is the promised Messiah! The Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, after examining Jesus’ claims and trying to literally “wash his hands” of the case, turns Jesus over to be crucified by the angry mobs whipped up by the Jewish leaders. And Jesus is beaten, tortured, taunted, and nailed to a cross to die a gruesome, public death. “It is finished!” For Jesus’ followers, this meant defeat, fear, and gloom, rather than accomplishment or celebration.
But Jesus knew better. Even though His death was filled with suffering and humiliation, it was the culmination of His life on earth. And it was the necessary final scene before the next Act– the Acts of the Apostles–the coming of power and hope by the release of the Holy Spirit to indwell those who had put their faith in Jesus AS the Messiah! And so it is today. We have great cause to celebrate Good Friday. Without the Pain of the Cross, there would be no Glory of the Resurrection or Promise of Eternal Life!
Even though this Friday is not Good Friday, we can spend today reflecting on the life of Jesus– the incredible example He gave of how we are to trust in God, love others as God loves, and cherish life–both now and through eternity, as God’s gift. And we can be thankful that, because of Jesus, “IT IS FINISHED!”– the battle against Sin and Death is over. We can live abundant lives, without the fear of eternal death, and we can look beyond the curse of Sin to the Glory of Restoration and Renewal.
We are entering the season of Lent. It is supposed to be a season of reflection, repentance, confession, and preparation. Some people refer to it as a spring cleaning of the soul. It is a time when many give things up or abstain from things– certain habits or routines, certain foods or activities. This can be a good practice for many reasons– it teaches us discipline and patience; it reminds us of all that Christ gave up for us; it turns our focus from common earthly things to spiritual matters; and it frees us from habits and routines that have not only pulled us away from God, but away from each other.
I grew up with very mixed, and mostly negative, feelings about Lent. Neither my family nor my church celebrated Lent. Many of my friends did, and their stories did very little to change my views. I saw the season as drudgery, self-imposed punishment, dreary and legalistic, a cheerless, fruitless, and (mostly) meatless way of counting down to Easter. No one seemed to “celebrate” it– it was more like they endured it. My views have since changed, but I don’t think they were all that uncommon, and I think I was missing something of great value, something I would like to explore.
There are three important elements of Lent that I have struggled with, and I would like to share what I’ve learned.
There is great value in sober, somber reflection. Our world is constantly calling us to revelry, happiness, entertainment, activity, and superficial comfort. We see weakness in mourning for, and admitting to, our sins. We judge those who are serious and sober as “stodgy”, “boring”, and “prosy”. We feel awkward in stillness and silent self-examination. But the Bible paints a very different picture. And the practices of fasting, confession, and meditation, practiced across a spectrum of religions, have been shown to promote better physical, mental, and emotional health, as well as spiritual well-being.
Because we don’t value Godly sorrow– we sometimes substitute other practices that make a mockery of what Lent should be about. I know I am not perfect, but I don’t want to feel that emptiness, that bankruptcy of spirit, that comes with honest confession and repentance. In fact, I sometimes “glamorize” what is really petty. I justify my bitterness, I excuse my selfishness, I “confide” my dislikes and judgmental thoughts about others. And I bring these sins before God, not in sorrow and humility, but in scandal, as though he will be shocked or even entertained by my wayward behavior
Which brings me to the third thing–cheap grace. I spend a lot of time talking about Christian living– about the value of prayer, and confession being good for the soul. I talk about being forgiven, and loving God, and wanting to serve him better. But I have fallen into the very bad habit of seeing God as Ward Cleaver, or Ozzie Nelson– lovable and authoritative, but not Sovereign or supremely Holy –“There, there, child. That’s all right. You’ve confessed, and you’ve learned your lesson. We’ll just forget that ever happened.” Lent should lead us to dependence on God’s amazing grace. It is the work of Christ in us– and only that– that saves, renews, and empowers us. There is a danger in our culture that we cheapen grace by making the focus on what we know, or say about Christianity, rather than what God does through us. Cheap grace leads to cheap talk–in my daily life, and in my prayer life.
This year for Lent, I’m not going to talk about giving up fast food, or Facebook, or shopping at my favorite store. I’m not going to set a checklist or a target for random acts of kindness or giving alms. I’m not even going to set a schedule for extra prayers or a list of special prayers just for this season. There’s nothing wrong with any of those; in fact, if you’re thinking of doing any of the above (or all of the above), I encourage you to do it with all my heart. My prayer for the next forty days will be to invite God to clean out the pretense and hand-wringing, sweep away the cobwebs of analyzing and making excuses, and empty my heart of pride, self-sufficiency, and false guilt, so that he can fill it again with love for him and for others. Love that is more than cheap talk. Love that pours out life and renewal– just as Christ poured out his blood on Good Friday, poured out glory on Easter morning, and poured out power at Pentecost. Not because it was part of a 40-day program of renewal, but because it could not be contained.
18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.
John 20:18 (NIV) via biblegateway.com
Over the past few weeks, there have been images of Jesus Christ all over– Jesus looking very gentle and passive as He rides a donkey into Jerusalem; Jesus teaching vast crowds and looking wise and unflappable. Thousands of images of Jesus the Suffering Servant– bruised, bloodied, yet meek and forgiving–carrying a Cross through the streets, or hanging between the two thieves. And the images of a risen Christ–glowing and serene and unearthly.
These are not false images, by any means. Jesus is all of these things: the Lamb of God, the Suffering Servant, the Son of Man…He came to experience full humanity, and to live as an example, die as our atonement, and ascend to Heaven as our intercessor and Savior. But there is more to the story. Our images of Jesus are often passive, and belong in the past tense. We have baby Jesus, parable-telling Jesus, humble Jesus nailed to the cross. The Bible also gives us images of Christ the Conqueror; Jesus as Warrior; Jesus as the King of Kings, and final authority.
When Jesus makes His return to Earth, He will come as LORD– victorious ruler of His creation–judge and final authority. We make a grave error if we only see Jesus as the Lamb of God, and not also the Lion of Judah. Jesus was meek and humble as a man, but He was always fully GOD as well. When Mary Magdalene finally recognized the Risen Jesus, she recognized Him as “the Lord.” All those who saw the Risen Christ recognized Him, not just as their friend or even as their teacher, but as their Lord. No earthly authority dared approach Him, question Him, try to re-capture Him, or hold Him. He appeared at will to those who were waiting for Him. He stopped telling parables, and started commissioning His disciples to spread the Gospel. Even those who knew Him had trouble at first recognizing this “Risen” Christ.
Do we? Does our focus on Holy Week end with Easter as the “Happy Ending?” Or do we see in the Risen Lord the beginning of the next chapter in God’s Story? Yes, “It is Finished.” But the final act is yet to come.
2 Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. 3 And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.
1 John 3:2-3 (ESV-emphasis added)
When we look at images of Jesus Christ, — when we pray “in Jesus’ name”–do we see a kind teacher? A humble servant? A “Good” example to follow? Someone willing to lay down His life for us? Those are all accurate descriptions– but do we recognize Him as The Lord? He is the King of Kings and the Ruler of All Creation. Do we speak to Him as we would to an earthly King or Ruler? Do we give Him the Honor we would give an earthly celebrity or hero? Do we seek to know everything about Him? Do we seek to please Him? Obey Him? Magnify Him?
It is easy to get caught up in a “Jesus and Me” theology that celebrates the intimate and close relationship that Jesus offers to us; but do we lose some of the awe and majesty of who we are really following? Was this, at least in part, what happened to Mary and the others after Jesus’ death on Good Friday? Had they gotten so comfortable with seeing Jesus as a man, that they couldn’t really see Him as the Messiah? Or did they only see in Him what they wanted to see– a prophet sent from God who would fulfill their longing for freedom from the Romans, or the miracle worker who would feed them bread and fish and take away their pain? When they went to the tomb on Easter morning, they expected to see the dead body of their friend, not the glorified body of their Creator!
When we seek Jesus today, are we looking for a friend and counselor? Are we looking for someone to meet our needs or fulfill our longings? Or are we looking for our Lord in all of HIS Glory? Do we come away feeling better about ourselves, or are we “bowled over” by spending time with the Alpha and Omega? What a different testimony we might have if we could say, every day, “I have seen The Lord!”
I love solving things–puzzles, mysteries, codes–I love finding the answer. It’s very satisfying. And I love reading mystery stories–Agatha Christie, Georges Simenon, Dorothy Sayers… But I have very mixed feelings about Sherlock Holmes. Always have had. I loved the intricacy of the mysteries themselves. They seemed impossible; unsolvable. Yet somehow, Holmes always knew the answer. And then, as he calmly explained how “elementary” it was, he would throw out details that no one else could possibly know without three doctorate degrees and a photographic memory.
I recently watched a series of TV episodes about Sherlock Holmes, and it struck me again. However, in our modern age, it is not so very impossible to become an expert on esoteric topics in almost no time. We have the internet, where vast amounts of information is available at the tip of our fingers. We can find facts about nearly everything, everywhere, at any point in history. We can virtually track people, visit places, experience adventures, and yes, even solve mysteries– all without leaving our couch. And while there are numerous dangers of relying on information found in cyberspace, there is no denying the easy availability of it.
One of the things I like about most mysteries is that they show the triumph of good over evil. Mysteries tend to show us, not only the impact of evil in the loss of life or property, the suffering of victims, and the need for vigilance, but the longing for order and knowledge and safety that we hope someone can “solve.” A good mystery story ties up all the “loose ends” and answers all the burning questions– “Who did it?” “How?” “Why?” By the end of the story, we feel victorious and safe and satisfied.
But reading mysteries or solving puzzles can give us a false sense of safety and knowledge. In real life, there are many unsolved puzzles, unanwered questions, and “cold” case crimes with no resolution. We are left asking “Why?” and “How?” about many of the things that have happened in our lives. And the answers are not “elementary”– even for the most intelligent among us.
As an adult, I read (and watch) the Sherlock Holmes mysteries with a different mindset. I know, from past experience, that Sherlock Holmes will always outwit the criminal. And I will probably learn some little-known fact– likely one that I never needed to know–that may be astonishing. But I am more interested in the character of Sherlock Holmes himself, now. Likewise with many of the other detectives I enjoy reading about. Because mysteries involve the triumph of good over evil, they attract writers who study the ongoing fight between the two. Mysteries often involve complex machinations, intricate plots, many-layered characters, and misleading information.
And the detectives are often equally complex and many-layered. Their startling intellect and deductive skills leave us in awe. Yet, they also have human frailties that lead them to overlook key clues or lead them to take risks beyond what we would consider wise. And many of them wrestle with the concept of good and evil–they are often tempted to take the law into their own hands, or to do something illegal in order to bring a criminal to justice. Thus, the reader is left with another mysterious question– just what is “Good” or “Evil?” Are there times when, in order to do “right” we may need to do something that others consider “wrong?” Can two “wrongs” make a “right?”
Some of the best detective characters are almost god-like in their ability to ferret out evil. But they are constrained in their ability to defeat evil. They are, in the end, human. Even Sherlock Holmes, with his arrogant assumptions and dizzying deductions, cannot wipe out evil; cannot keep it from touching and even ruining lives. In fact, as Sherlock Holmes (and others) discovers, intelligence is often a key ingredient of evil. “Stupid” criminals are easy to catch. The great detectives are needed to find the brilliant masterminds of evil; the ones who would otherwise go undetected and unstopped.
The man who created Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was an agnostic and, in later life, became a spiritualist. He wrestled with the concepts of good and evil and particularly with the concept of how a “good” God could allow evil to exist. He was skeptical of the existence of the Biblical God, but instead believed in the continuing existence of the human spirit after death. He believed that the battle between good and evil was left to mankind to solve. He, like his famous character’s sidekick, Watson, was a medical doctor. He was a man who worshipped science– a man who valued facts above all. In fact, the stories of Sherlock Holmes offer us what seems to be a triumph, not just of good over evil, but of facts over faith.
Today, we celebrate the triumph of faith and facts over skepticism and arrogance. Jesus, unlike Sherlock Holmes, did not come to the earth to “solve the puzzle of evil” by bringing individual human criminals to justice. He did not brag about His great intellect, though He dazzled the Jewish Priests of His day with His knowledge and understanding of Scripture. Jesus had no fixed address. He did not write treatises or analyze dust samples– He created nature; He had no need for further study! His disciples did not write about Jesus merely because He did miracles. They did not write about Him in order to become rich or famous. Instead, they were martyred and exiled. Jesus did not put an end to the corruption of the priesthood under the Pharisees and Sadducees. He did not break the yoke of the powerful Roman Empire. He died on a wooden cross, hung between two criminals, after being convicted in an illegal trial, and a farce of an appeal to Pilate. He was flogged, taunted, pierced, and buried in a borrowed tomb. He was, by all appearances, defeated by evil and death. He lost– by human standards and appearances.
But faith tells us that God is Good; that Jesus is God; that Good triumphs over evil. And the facts bear out our faith. Yes, Jesus died. It was recorded, affirmed, and witnessed. But that wasn’t the end of the story. He rose again. There is no body in the tomb. There are witnesses to His post-crucifixion appearances. There were witnesses of his ascent into Heaven. His disciples died for their testimony and continued faith in the face of persecution, torture, and threats. And believers over the past two millennia have lived and died in the faith. We are witnesses of His power to redeem, to restore, and renew lives.
The events of Good Friday and Easter present the ultimate mystery. Jesus, Son of God, Messiah– eternal, all-powerful, all-Good– became a sacrifice for us. He allowed Himself to be an innocent victim of Evil for our Good. And in doing so, He didn’t just “solve” a puzzle– He defeated the power of Evil once for all! We don’t have to know more than the enemy. We don’t have to chase down and outwit death. We don’t have to be terrorized by the threat of evil, the weight of our guilt, or the power of the grave. All we have to do to defeat the evil in our lives is to trust in the work of the Risen Savior and follow Him.
A young man walked into a local superstore. He was nondescript: late twenties or early thirties, dark hair, light brown skin, deep brown eyes, clean cut, quiet and friendly-looking. He was alone.
He came in by the pharmacy, and started down the first aisle. He saw a woman staring at a box– a home pregnancy test. She looked fearful, tired, and sad. He started to reach out to put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey! Where’s your mask?! You can’t be in here without a mask– state mandate. What are you? Some kind of COVID-denying homicidal maniac? Hater! Get out of here!” This from another lady at the end of the aisle. The sad woman disappeared around the corner. Without a word, the man pulled a mask from his pocket and slipped it over his mouth and nose. He continued down the aisle. “I hope you get COVID and die!”– a parting shot from the second woman.
The man turned a corner and approached the brightly-colored Easter display area– candy, plastic eggs, plush bunnies, baskets filled with small toys, and lots of plastic grass. One area boasted crosses–wooden crosses on stakes to put in the yard, filigree crosses to hang on the wall, pewter crosses on chains of various lengths for necklaces, bracelets, key rings… A few wall hangings and lawn banners with sunrises, lilies, cute little chicks, and old country churches. More candy. The larger bags were on sale. To the right, there were adorable clothes for the kids– suits for the little boys, frilly dresses and bonnets for the little girls. Most were 20% off. There were “dress-up” costumes, too–rabbit ears and and flower hats and fairy wings. There was even a chicken outfit with feathers. Off to the end, there were deeply discounted Halloween costumes for 70% off–zombies and vampires, witches and skeletons. A special end-cap held yet more candy.
As the man left the area, he shook his head. He wandered over to the Home Decor and craft area in a fog. There he found framed art. “God Bless America!” “Life is Better at the Lake” “Love Never Fails” “Sleep, Drink, Fish, Repeat” “Faith, Family, Freedom” “These Boots Were Made For Walkin'”, plus several with pictures–Wonder Woman, Harley-Davidson, Captain Morgan, Elvis Presley, and Marilyn Monroe.
He kept going. There were books and magazines–best-sellers, romance series, biographies, horror and self-help books. Magazines filled with gossip and gaming, guns and glamour, gardening, goddesses, and gigabytes. Just for Easter, there was a special display of leather-bound Bibles, next to the Spring Gardening guides and photographic histories of favorite Major League Baseball teams.
The man bypassed the mesmerizing glow of wide-screen TVs and computers, strolled past the sporting goods and garden center, and turned away from the auto and hardware sections. He spent a couple of minutes glancing at the furniture– prefab and chipboard dressers and bookshelves, patio tables made of plastic or resin or metal tubing; floor-model chairs and lamps already scratched and discounted.
As he approached the grocery area, his eyes widened–aisle after aisle of canned goods, packaged dinners, bags of cookies and flavored popcorn, rows of olives and pickles and hot peppers, an entire section for bread and rolls. And the meats! Large banners announced special prices this week on ham and lamb, rolls, potatoes, and special Easter cakes.
As He left the superstore, there was a bench just outside. The man sat down, sank His head into His nail-scarred hands, and shed a tear.
This has been a season of death and loss for us, but where is the sting? Mom passed just over a month ago, but where is the gnawing ache of loss?
Because of Easter, we remember that Death is swallowed up in victory, and His Divine Power gives us Everything we need for Life! (2 Peter 1:3) Have we had moments of grieving this past week (and month)– Yes. But we choose to focus on the larger picture. Easter isn’t just a day to celebrate something miraculous in the past or the distant future. It is a very present reality that changes EVERYTHING. Death is not the end. Failure is not the end. Our weakness is not the end. Good Friday was not an end. Easter (and every day since!) is a new beginning. It is the promise of life– not just eternal life in heaven, but abundant Life here and now. There is a purpose to life– to the joy and the pain, the grief and the struggle, the search for answers and the even the questions that remain. There is hope and there is renewal. There is a reason to get up, a reason to fight, a reason to cry, a reason to sing, and a reason to rest. Most of all, there is a reason to LOVE and rejoice in being loved!
YOU are loved! Extravagantly, eternally, without limit or condition. And yes, it seems too good to be true, too simple to accept, maybe even too frightening in its intensity. But it IS true. It IS that simple. It IS that complete and perfect. And it is a free gift for all who will accept it and live in it. Please let this Easter fill your heart with the Good News that You are loved– to death and back– by your gracious creator.
I really enjoy going to church. I love our church family. I love the sanctuary. I love singing and worship. I love the teaching from the Bible each week. I always feel welcome and comfortable and inspired. Well…almost always.
Have you ever visited a new or unfamiliar group? It need not be a church– any group that is already established, where you are visiting for the first time? It can be a very uncomfortable experience, even if the other members make an effort to be welcoming. There may be group dynamics with which you are unfamiliar; maybe there are rituals or responses that are new to you, as well. Where should you sit? Are you taking “someone else’s” spot? Are you expected to participate? At what level? Should you introduce yourself, or will you be asked to do so at some point? Will others introduce themselves?
I was thinking about all this in relation to church because of Easter service last week. As we entered, several people greeted us with “He is Risen!”, to which we responded, “He is Risen, Indeed!” But not everyone responded– some were confused. As the service started, a husband and wife introduced this phrase as a tradition, explaining the call and the expected response. They welcomed any newcomers, then they invited us to say it as a congregation. This helped make it a more comfortable experience for any visitors.
I have visited many churches over the years, and some congregations work hard to make everyone feel welcome, and even comfortable. But there is a difference between welcome and comfort. I have visited some churches where I feel welcome, but not very comfortable. The people are nice, the music is upbeat, but there is a restlessness– sometimes inside my own conscience–that makes me squirm. This can be a good thing– a movement of the Holy Spirit. But it can also be a warning that something is “off” in the worship– the focus is not on God, or the message is not true to Scripture, or there is a tension between members of the group that needs to be resolved.
I have also visited churches where I felt comfortable enough, but I did not feel welcome. I knew all the right phrases to say or the words to all the songs and hymns; the seating was soft, and the room was neither too hot nor too chilly. But I felt closed out by the other worshippers. They did not notice that I was there, and they (probably) never noticed that I did not return. No one introduced themselves or made an effort to reach out, nor did they respond when I tried to reach out to them.
How does any of this relate to prayer? Prayer can sometimes be uncomfortable– confession, supplication, confusion, and even doubt. God is not in the business of making us comfortable at the expense of our own good. Sometimes we need to be made uncomfortable in order to take needed steps to change or move ahead. Sometimes, we need to recognize our discomfort as a warning to look around and reevaluate. And sometimes, we need to be patient in our discomfort, as it is only temporary, and stretches our Faith.
But we should never feel unwelcome in the presence of God. God longs to meet with us, even in our discomfort– even at our worst! Jesus modeled this attitude throughout His ministry. He made many people uncomfortable (particularly the Pharisees!), but all were welcome to come, to listen, and to speak to Him. He took time to talk to people that were often seen as outcasts, but He was just as likely to talk to people who thought of themselves as very important. Jesus SAW people. He acknowledged them, and He valued them. As followers of Jesus, we can feel welcome, AND comforted when we come into His presence.
But even more, we should follow the example of Christ when reaching out to others. We are Christ’s ambassadors, and if we make people feel unwelcome and unwanted, they may never understand how wide and deep and immense God’s love for them really is. At the same time, we need to be reminded that others may still feel uncomfortable for their own reasons. We should make every effort to be welcoming, but we should allow for the Holy Spirit’s work as well. We should not push people away, but we should be prepared that some will choose to walk away from uncomfortable truth.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy” (Matthew 5:7).
Am I merciful when I pray? That’s not a question I normally ask, but I’m looking at the Beatitudes, and how they relate to my pursuit of prayer. I pray for justice; I pray for healing; I pray to be more Christlike, but do I specifically pray about mercy? Certainly, I thank God for HIS mercy toward me, and I hope I show mercy to others, but does it enter my prayer life?
It’s easy to pray for mercy for ourselves, when we know we deserve justice (and punishment). It’s easy to ask for mercy for our loved ones. But do I pray to become more merciful? Do I pray for a greater love of Mercy? In Micah 6:8, we are told that God requires three things– to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with Him. Often, it is easier to love justice, do mercy (when it suits us) and walk in our own way, asking God to follow US as we go through the day– bless me, bless my work, bless my travels, etc..
Mercy requires a knowledge of justice and a humble acceptance of God’s sovereignty. Justice is NOT whatever we think is “fair” or “equitable” in a certain set of circumstances. Justice is defined by God, and the only way to “do justice” is to obey His will. We will not “love mercy” until we experience it at God’s hands.
That’s really what this Holy Week is all about–God’s justice, God’s Mercy, and His Victory and Lordship. As we go through this week, in preparation for Easter, it is vital to meditate on what Jesus DID for justice to be satisfied, the depth of His Love that caused Him to suffer and die to provide, not just mercy, but Unspeakable Grace, and the humility He demonstrated in His time on earth– serving, sacrificing, even dying the painful and humiliating death on a cross–all for me; all for you.
And we must be careful about making Mercy all about us and all about the here and now. We live in a culture of “instant gratification.” We want God’s mercy to “fix” the immediate problems we see around us. Those who are merciful WILL be shown mercy– but we may not see instant ease and comfort in a situation where others hold a grudge, or where the natural consequences of our sin still exist. We have been justified before God– He will not count those sins against us–but we still live in the fallen world where sin leads to death and destruction. God will redeem all things in His time, and we can trust that His mercy will triumph over even the worst of circumstances, but we may still have to endure suffering for a season.
When we come to God in prayer, we have no right to withhold mercy– either from those who may have offended us, or from ourselves for things we did in the past. Mercy is a gift– one we cannot give without having received it, and one we cannot hold on to without sharing it freely. When we pray for our enemies, we must pray with a heart of mercy– not because they deserve it, but because God’s sovereignty demands it.
We have entered the Lenten season, and many of us have made plans to “give up” something for the 40 days leading up to Easter–chocolate, or certain meats, or a certain habit. It is traditional to use this time leading up to Holy Week to focus on preparing our hearts to receive the Gift of salvation that comes from Christ’s resurrection on Easter.
But, in a larger sense, there is nothing we can do to prepare for Grace– it is completely unmerited favor. My willingness to deny my sweet tooth for six weeks cannot make me ready for God to allow His wrath to fall on His Holy Son, so that I can be declared righteous for all eternity. It is no more than a gesture.
God is not impressed by our Lenten traditions. This doesn’t mean that we should not make the gesture; it doesn’t mean that we cannot grow closer to God by such observances. But we must not place too much reliance on them. Jesus Christ is the Author and Finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). He gave up far more than we can imagine in order to rescue us from all that we deserve. Jesus not only gave up His human life on the Cross, He gave up His throne, His status, His omnipresence, and His omnipotence. He allowed Himself to be subject to human authorities, and He served those He had created.
Jesus didn’t just “give up” something on His way to the Cross. He offered everything He was! May we seek to do the same. May we pray, along with Jesus in the Garden, “..not my will, but Yours be done..” (Luke 22:42)
We are living in dark days– days of death counts, and dire predictions; of fear and grief and chaos. Masks, social distancing, angry outbursts, collapsing economies, job loss, political unrest, disease, plague–we are in the grip of a global pandemic. “Bring out your dead.” It’s a phrase from hundreds of years ago, and the horrors of other plagues and other disasters. Tombs, graveyards, skulls and visions of death abound. And yet, as Christians, we celebrate an empty tomb…
It’s been over a month since many Christians celebrated Easter (and almost a month for Orthodox Christians). How soon many of us forget the power of the resurrection. Our world is gripped with fear and anger. But we should be gripped with hope and healing. We celebrate an empty tomb– a testament to the victory of life over death, and hope over chaos!
Even when we use the symbol of the cross, it is not about Christ’s death, but his ultimate victory that we celebrate. Jesus himself even referred to the cross in these terms in John 3:
“Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”
Jesus is speaking with Nicodemus, a Pharisee and religious teacher. He is referring to an historic incident in the wilderness, when the Israelites had rebelled (once again), and the Lord sent venomous snakes among them. Nicodemus would have known about this incident, but Jesus presented it as more than just history– it was a foreshadowing of God’s perfect plan of salvation! https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Numbers+21%3A4-9&version=NIV God had Moses make a bronze snake to be lifted up on a pole. When the people looked up and saw the bronze snake, they could live. In just such a way, when Jesus was “lifted up” on the cross, he didn’t just die. He battled death to bring life to anyone who “looks up” and believes.
That ancient symbol of a snake on a pole is used by physicians to represent healing. The ancient symbol of Christ on the cross is used to represent redemption and eternal life. Combined with the reality of an empty tomb, we can celebrate life in the midst of any circumstances.
These are difficult days–even with the hope of eternal life, we still have to face the sadness and grief of death, the confusion and hardship of economic chaos, and the uncertainty of what tomorrow will look like– socially, politically, economically, and physically. But we need only “look up” and beyond our circumstances to be reminded that this is not the whole story. There is an empty tomb– ours! There is victory–ours! Won for us by the perfect plan of God, and the perfect obedience of Jesus Christ.
Pursuing Prayer 