Martin Luther King Jr.

“Easter comes out ringing in terms that we all hear if we seek to hear it, that the soul of man is immortal. Through the resurrection of Jesus Christ we have fit testimony that this earthly life is not the end, that death is just something of a turn in the road, that life moves down a continual moving river, and that death is just a little turn in the river, that this earthly life is merely an embryonic prelude to a new awakening, that death is not a period which ends this great sentence of life but a comma that punctuates it to more loftier significance. That is what it says. That is the meaning of Easter. That is the question that Easter answers – that death is not the end” (Martin Luther King Jr, ‘Questions That Easter Answers’ sermon, Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, AL, April 21, 1957).

That’s what Easter means. Death is not the end. Jesus died, but He did not stay dead. He was buried in a tomb that was borrowed for three days, as the song goes, but did not stay there.

Peter Marshall once said that the stone in front of Jesus’ tomb was rolled away not so that Jesus could get out but so that His disciples could get in. Jesus may have very well walked through the stone just as He walked through the locked door where the disciples were hiding out. The point was that Peter and John could see for themselves that the tomb that once held the body of Jesus was empty, save for His burial cloths. Jesus was not there.

That means for all those who hope in Jesus, death is not the end. It is not a period to the sentence of life but a comma. It shows that the real and best life, unhindered by sin and unencumbered by a fallen world, is yet to come.

“Oh love that will not let me go
I rest my weary soul in thee
I give thee back the life I owe
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be

Oh light that followest all my way
I yield my flickering torch to thee
My heart restores its borrowed ray
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be

Oh joy that seekest me through pain
I cannot close my heart to thee
I trace the rainbow through the rain
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be

Oh cross that liftest up my head
I dare not ask to fly from thee
I lay in dust’s life’s glory dead
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be” (Tom Fettke / George Matheson / Albert Peace).

These are the words of one of my favorite hymns. They seem very appropriate right now to me as so many I know are nearing the end of their life’s journeys. May the words speak comfort to you as they have to me.

I’m thankful that tomorrow is Easter Sunday, when the tomb that was borrowed for three days emptied and the death that seemed to reign for so long was finally defeated for all time.

I saw a house on fire today. It’s not something you see every day — or want to see every day. In fact, I’d probably be okay to never see something like that again. It was a sucker punch to the gut kind of moment.

I could see the smoke when I was still miles away, so I knew something was up. Then I saw the flames.

I caught myself thinking, “I can’t imagine what that must be like.”

I have no previous experience that could help me to comprehend something like that. I mean I could sympathize to a point, but I have no concept of standing in front of my home watching all my possessions go up in flames. To know that old photos and scrapbooks and childhood mementos are forever lost. That’s something that I can’t wrap my brain around.

I was reminded of the verse that says that in my weakness, God’s power is perfected. In times of my own utter helplessness, that’s when God really shows up.

I know in those moments when we’re helpless as we watch our home burning or a loved one in their last moments of life, we feel completely and totally helpless. There’s not a thing we can do. If you’re not there already, it’s probably something that has haunted you, gnawing at the back of your mind as a kind of nameless fear.

Maybe you think if that moment ever came, there’s no way that you could make it through. But when the moment comes, we so often find that we are carried through. Somehow, we can look back from the other side and see that we survived. That worst scenario becomes the moment when God becomes so very real and present.

We do find that God really is our refuged and strength, a very present help in the midst of trouble. We find that we can lean on those everlasting arms. We know that peace that passes all understanding and that casts out all fear.

I don’t ever wish those moments on anyone, but they do come. When they come, that’s when you find out how great and strong and good God is. That’s when you discover joy in the midst of great sorrow and loss. That’s when God shows up.

In case you’re wondering how to relax and have a good time, I give you an expert in the subject, my cat Peanut. She has developed a system that seems to work for her quite well. Here it is:

1. Find a comfortable spot. If there are humans occupying your spot, wait. They will move eventually, either to do stuff or to go pee or to go to bed. Then move into the spot of your choice.
2. Make yourself at home in said spot. Stretch a lot. Yawn hugely. Groom yourself. Do whatever it takes to find your center of calm and to make yourself as sleepy as possible.
3. Fall asleep. If you’re a feline, this is second nature. If not, it might take a bit of practice to get used to falling asleep on a whim.
4. Stay asleep for several hours. You can always roam around for a bit and come back to your spot. You can even have your five minutes of manic activity involving running around the house for no good reason, then come back to your spot and resume your hybernation.

Congratulations! You have now achieved the feline level of zen. You now know how to party like a cat, which means to lay low and take naps. You can be at peace and rest while everyone else is running around like crazy. Enjoy.

Lately, it’s been difficult to discern what season we’re in because of all the crazy fluctuating temperatures and weather. In the past few weeks, we’ve gone from the 70s to the 20s, from thunderstorms to sunny. That actually sounds like my old Zune playlist from back in the day.

It’s hard to know how to dress appropriately when it feels like the dead of winter in the morning and almost summer by the afternoon. Do you wear a jacket that you will leave at the office because by the time you leave, you don’t need it anymore? Or do you just suffer through scraping off the ice from your windshield in short sleeves, hoping the heater in your car will thaw your frozen fingers? The struggle is real.

I have a love-hate relationship with spring. I love the warmer temperatures. I don’t love all the pollen. I really like having more daylight. I really don’t like all the rain and storms that come from all the times when cold fronts meet warm fronts. I still can’t get over how I’ve gone from using the heater in my car to using my A/C in the same day.

But summer will be here before long. I like summer — for about two weeks. Then I’m over the stupid hot humidity. I’m done with sweat-pocalypse. I’m not a fan of extreme hot or cold, which is why I prefer fall and spring over summer and winter.

If I could have my way, the year would start off in October and go through the end of December. Then we’d go back to October again and repeat the cycle. That’s my favorite part of the year anyway. But then again, I’d also like to eat chocolate and peanut butter all day every day and not get fat. So maybe I’m not the best judge about what’s good or not.

I think so far this week, it’s been more of a “put my keys in the fridge” kind of week. Amazing myself? Not so much.

But I’m thankful for new mornings and new mercies. That’s what keeps me going sometimes when I don’t have much else to lean on.

FYI, it wasn’t so much putting my keys in the fridge as it was leaving my phone in the church bathroom, driving home, then having to drive all the way back.

But if that’s the worst thing that ever happens to me, I’m doing alright.

“We spend a lot of energy wondering who can be blamed for our own or other people’s tragedies – our parents, ourselves, the immigrants, the Jews, the gays, the blacks, the fundamentalists, the Catholics….

But Jesus doesn’t allow us to solve our own or other people’s problems through blame. The challenge he poses is to discern in the midst of our darkness the light of God. In Jesus’ vision everything, even the greatest tragedy, can become an occasion in which God’s works can be revealed.

How radically new my life would be if I were willing to move beyond blame to proclaiming the works of God…. All human beings have their tragedies…. We seldom have much control over them. But do we choose to live them as occasions to blame, or as occasions to see God at work?

Prayer For Today

My God and my refuge, strip away my habit of blaming – either others or myself – for any big or little tragedies in my life. Challenge me to move beyond the ‘blame game’ and to understand that these misfortunes and setbacks are not under my control. Teach me instead to live through these events and see them as fruitful opportunities for faith and love.

Amen” (Henri Nouwen).

It’s way easier to point the finger at others than to look in the mirror and realize that I could have acted differently or had a better attitude. I can’t control other people. I can only control my reactions and my responses. God won’t hold me accountable for how others treated me, but how I acted in return. It’s not my business how God will deal with the other person– only how He has shown mercy and grace to me time after time when I deserved judgment and wrath.

As I sit here, I can look over and see little Peanut snoozing away while it’s lightning and thundering outside. She’s good at sleeping through just about everything.

I sometimes wish I were a cat. They have little to no expectations placed on them, they get to sleep all the time, plus the fatter they are, the cuter they are. That all sounds good to me.

Peanut in particular loves to sleep around. By that, I mean she has several designated napping spots around the house. She moves from one to the next as the mood strikes. I wish I could fall asleep as effortlessly and quickly as she does.

You know that I am a fan of both cats and dogs. I’m a fan of people who like animals. I do think that there’s something to be said for the low maintenance of a cat like Peanut. She’s easy to take care of and she’s good company, only rarely talking my ear off.

“It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on.

This isn’t the first time I have warned you, you know. If you use your freedom this way, you will not inherit God’s kingdom.

But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.

Legalism is helpless in bringing this about; it only gets in the way. Among those who belong to Christ, everything connected with getting our own way and mindlessly responding to what everyone else calls necessities is killed off for good—crucified” (Galatians 5:19-23, The Message).

‘Tis the season. And I don’t mean that it’s time to start decking the halls and singing Christmas carols. I mean it’s tornado season.

The Middle Tennessee area had a batch of storms move through the region today. It’s never fun to see tornado and strong thunderstorm warnings. Hearing those sirens going off gives me cold chills.

However, I am thankful to report that I am still here. The storms have passed and all that remains is rain.

I have never known a storm, no matter how severe, to last forever. All storms must come to an end at some point, whether literal or metaphorical.

I still believe that the same Jesus who spoke peace to the waves all those years ago can still calm those storms. As the saying goes, He will either calm the storm or He will calm His child in the midst of the storm. I have found both to be true.

I doubt I’ve head the last of those tornado sirens, but I know that I can rest assured that I have nothing to fear when I’m safely held and carried by the Prince of Peace.