death

A Puritan Prayer

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This is most likely a repeat, but it’s worth reading again. It’s from The Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan prayers that is one of the best books I have ever read outside of the Bible:

“O God of Grace,
Thou hast imputed my sin to my substitute,
and hast imputed his righteousness to my soul,
clothing me with bridegroom’s robe,
decking me with jewels of holiness.
But in my Christian walk I am still in rags;
my best prayers are stained with sin;
my penitential tears are so much impurity;
my confessions of wrong are so many aggravations of sin;
my receiving the Spirit is tinctured with selfishness.
I need to repent of my repentance;
I need my tears to be washed;
I have no robe to bring to cover my sins,
no loom to weave my own righteousness;
I am always standing clothed in filthy garments,
and by grace am always receiving change of raiment,
for thou dost always justify the ungodly;
I am always going into the far country,
and always returning home as a prodigal,
always saying, Father, forgive me,
and thou art always bringing forth the best robe.
Every morning let me wear it,
every evening return in it,
go out to the day’s work in it,
be married in it,
be wound in death in it,
stand before the great white throne in it,
enter heaven in it shining as the sun.
Grant me never to lose sight of
the exceeding sinfulness of sin,
the exceeding righteousness of salvation,
the exceeding glory of Christ,
the exceeding beauty of holiness,
the exceeding wonder of grace” (The Valley of Vision – A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions, Edited by Arthur Bennett).

Trusting Beyond Knowing

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“Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One Who is leading. It is a life of faith, not of intellect and reason, but a life of knowing Who makes us ‘go.’ The root of faith is the knowledge of a Person, and one of the biggest snares is the idea that God is sure to lead us to success.

The final stage in the life of faith is attainment of character. There are many passing transfigurations of character; when we pray we feel the blessing of God enwrapping us and for the time being we are changed, then we get back to the ordinary days and ways and the glory vanishes. The life of faith is not a life of mounting up with wings, but a life of walking and not fainting. It is not a question of sanctification; but of something infinitely further on than sanctification, of faith that has been tried and proved and has stood the test. Abraham is not a type of sanctification, but a type of the life of faith, a tried faith built on a real God. ‘Abraham believed God’ (Oswald Chambers).

I heard a sermon today that talked about trusting beyond knowing. Basically, the idea is that faith goes beyond understanding. If I knew everything and saw the whole picture, I wouldn’t need faith.

But the life of faith is one where you only see the next step in front of you, not the entire path. You have to take that first step in order to see the next one. There is no magic word or secret formula that will allow you to skip the difficult parts or to forego being obedient in the present.

There’s no guarantee that being faithful will always lead to prosperity and blessing. Sometimes, the path of obedience leads through the valley of the shadow of death. But the promise we have is that our Shepherd is with us when we go down that road. His rod and staff will comfort us.

We have no promise of material reward for our obedience. We do know that God is faithful to be with us and to fight for us and to never leave or forsake us. We know that God will provide for every need and He Himself will be our inheritance and our reward.

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer” (Corrie ten Boom).

May we sit still and trust our Engineer, no matter where He leads us.

Being the Easter People

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Easter is over, according to all the stores and calendars. There are no more cute little bunny displays at your local Hallmark or Cadbury eggs or wicker baskets at the grocery store. Seemingly just about everybody has moved on to the next big holiday, which I believe is Mother’s Day in May.

But for those who celebrate Easter as Resurrection Day, the celebration goes on. We know that Jesus is still risen and alive. Plus, if you follow the Book of Common Prayer you know there is still Ascension Day and Pentecost to come.

I’m not against all the Easter bunnies and baskets and Easter egg hunts and all the candy. I’m especially not against the candy. But when you reduce Easter to these symbols and turn it into just one day, it cheapens the meaning.

Just as the birth of Jesus ushered in a new way of counting the years (as we moved from B.C. to A.D.), so Easter is equally a marker in history where everything changed. Many Old and New Testament prophecies came to pass on that day.

I hope that we won’t go back to business as usual next Sunday. I hope we will retain the message of Resurrection Day through all the weeks and months to come. The worst moment, the worst day, the worst part of your life is never the final defining moment in your life because Jesus is alive and the tomb is empty. Your hope is never in vain because Jesus conquered sin, death, hell, and everything else that will ever come against you to defeat you.

Easter isn’t just a day but a mindset. As Pope John Paul II said, “Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.”

Easter Monday

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I did something new this year that will most likely be a tradition from now on. I went to see Andrew Peterson on his Resurrection Letters tour on Easter Monday. I’ve been to three of his Behold the Lamb of God concerts, but not one for Easter.

Of course it was amazing. Every part of it pointed to Jesus as the one who overcame death and the grave, the Lamb slain for the sins of the world. It helped me to once again put everything else into perspective in the light of the empty tomb.

I was captivated by the line of a song that mentioned the resurrection of daffodils in spring. That happens every year after all the trees go bare and the ground is barren during winter. Spring really is the perfect picture of the resurrection with all the flowers and buds coming back from a kind of death to full bloom.

I like spring, but I’m not a fan of all the pollen. But even that means that new life is coming, because all that pollen will germinate the seeds that will burst forth in growth and life. I think I can handle a bit of sinus overload if it means seeing the riot of colors that will follow soon after.

But all that points to the one day when those who have died in Christ will rise. All of the creation that was ruined in the fall will be restored and renewed. What seems so stressful and what keeps me up late at night won’t seem important in view of all the new life. In fact, I probably won’t remember what was causing me all of the anxiety.

Just as surely as spring follows winter, so will Jesus return in the same way He departed from the disciples.

“Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
Of all blessing and honor and glory
Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
Is He worthy of this?

He is!
Is He worthy? Is He worthy?
He is!
He is!” (Andrew Peterson/Ben Shive).

Holy Saturday Hope

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“O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen” (from The Book of Common Prayer).

I don’t think I’ve ever participated in any kind of church service centered around Holy Saturday. Typically, every church I’ve ever attended makes a really big deal about Easter Sunday (and with good reason). More recently, I’ve seen some Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services.

But nothing for Holy Saturday.

Maybe that’s because there really isn’t much to celebrate or commemorate. At this point, Jesus is dead and in the tomb. The disciples are scared to death, grief-stricken, and hiding out. There is nothing in Scripture about anything happening on this day at all.

But we as believers with the gift of history and hindsight know what’s coming. We know that the worst moment in history is about to give way to the greatest. From absolute despair and sadness will come overwhelming amazement and joy.

In the Jewish culture of Jesus’ day, Saturday was a day of rest. So possibly it’s good not to have yet another service in an already packed holy week. Perhaps we need to take time to meditate and reflect on what has happened up to this point and what is yet to come.

On Holy Saturday, we learn once more how to wait well.

It’s Friday But Sunday’s Comin’!

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I can’t remember a lot of what I’ve done in the last week or so, but I can still remember a sermon from Tony Campolo that I heard when I was a student at Union University way back in the early 90s. It was close to Easter that year, and I seem to remember we were getting ready to go on our spring break.

I remember the sermon was based on the text by an old black preacher named S. M. Lockridge with the refrain of “It’s Friday . . . but Sunday’s comin’!”

The gist is that Friday was when everything looked hopeless. Jesus was dead and buried. The Pharisees and other religious leaders were celebrating. The disciples were crushed and defeated. But Sunday and the empty tomb were just ahead, unbeknownst to those who were witnesses to the events on Friday.

Here’s the text from the original sermon that set my world on fire:

“It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.

It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God, who will not abide with sin, pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.

It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.

And on that horrible day 2,000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man, died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday.

Now it’s Sunday. And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking, because now it’s Sunday.

And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb.

Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone. And the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots, because it’s Sunday. And the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed.

It’s Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin, and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.

It’s Friiidaaaay!

But Sunday’s coming!” (S. M. Lockridge, With Thanks to Dr. Michael G. Davis for the text version).

Palm Sunday

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“Almighty and everlasting God, who, of thy tender love towards mankind, has sent thy Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to take upon him our flesh and to suffer death upon the cross, that all mankind should follow the example of his great humility: Mercifully grant that we may both follow the example of his patience, and also be made partakers of his resurrection, through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen” (from the 1662 Book of Common Prayer).

Today is Palm Sunday, a week out from Easter Sunday. This is traditionally the day that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey to shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord.”

The crowd was cheering and laying down palm branches before His path. Apparently, in that day palm trees symbolized victory and triumph. Maybe the crowd was anticipating an imminent overthrow of Roman rule. Maybe they were expecting Jesus to start acting the part of an earthly king.

Were those people the same ones who later shouted for Barrabus to be released and for this Jesus to be crucified? I’ve heard a lot of sermons that hinged on the same people at one moment praising Jesus and at the next condemning Him. But I’ve also heard that it wasn’t necessarily the same people.

Regardless, Jesus looked beyond the praise to the pain. He focused beyond the crowds on the cross and all the torture He would shortly endure. His mission wasn’t to get the approval of the crowds in that moment but to set His face toward Jerusalem and Golgotha. His purpose was to lay down His life for the flock.

I heard in a sermon today that to appreciate the joy of Easter Sunday, you need to walk through Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Take in all the mocking. Being abandoned by His disciples. The beatings. The whip that tore strips of flesh of His back. The carrying of the cross up the hill to Golgatha. All those hours in agony up on that cross. Giving up His spirit and dying.

It’s important to remember that sin isn’t something that God ever takes lightly or brushes off. The Father doesn’t wink at our transgressions and ignore all the wrong we’ve done. Sin always has a cost, and that cost is always death. In the Old Testament, the price was the sacrifice of an animal that pointed forward to the ultimate sacrifice to come. In the New Testament, that ultimate sacrifice is Jesus willingly laying down His life for us.

Take time in the next week to reflect on the fact that Jesus bore the whip and the nails for you and me. He chose the wounds and scars that we might be healed. He died that we might live. And then you can celebrate Easter Sunday a week from today with joy.

There’s Always a Choice

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“I call Heaven and Earth to witness against you today: I place before you Life and Death, Blessing and Curse. Choose life so that you and your children will live. And love God, your God, listening obediently to him, firmly embracing him. Oh yes, he is life itself, a long life settled on the soil that God, your God, promised to give your ancestors, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” (Deut. 30:19-20).

The children of Israel had a choice. They could choose to serve and obey God, or they could follow after the gods of the peoples in the land they were called to occupy.

Both choices had consequences. Choosing to follow Yahweh led to life and blessing, while running after idols led to curses and death. There was no third option with no consequences.

Today, we have a choice. Following God leads to life, and following sin, self, and Satan leads to death. Jesus said that He was the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one could come to the Father and eternal life but through Him.

The good news is that while you’re living, there’s always time to change the road you’re on. No matter what you’ve done in the past, what terrible choices you might have made, what wreck you might have made of your life, you can always come to God, and He will never cast out anyone coming to Him in faith.

Choose today. Choose Jesus.

Learning the New Dance Steps

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“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp” (Anne Lamott).

Man, is that ever true. I’ve known a lot of people lately who are walking through the valley of the shadow of death, grieving the passing of a loved one.

No matter how young or old, how healthy or sick, however near or far they are, you’re never quite ready to say that final earthly goodbye. In the end, you’re always greedy for a little more time.

But you know that in Christ that death is not forever and the grave is not final. Hope has the final say. Jesus will have the final word. Just as He called 4-day old smelly Lazarus, wrapped up like a mummy from head to toe, from the tomb, so will He one day speak the name of that loved one to rise forevermore from the grave. One day, He will call you by your own name.

That won’t be the end. That will be the real and true beginning.

 

A Beautiful Picture of Death

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I’ve always loved the story about the doctor and the patient who was asking about death. Not that I obsess over death, but I was reminded again of this little story that sums up faith so very neatly. Maybe it will speak to you in your grieving.

“A sick man turned to his doctor as he was preparing to
Leave the examination room and said,
‘Doctor, I am afraid to die.
Tell me what lies on the other side.’
Very quietly, the doctor said, ‘I don’t know..’
‘You don’t know? You’re, a God fearing person,
and don’t know what’s on the other side?’
The doctor was holding the handle of the door;
On the other side came a sound of scratching and whining,
And as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room
And leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.
Turning to the patient, the doctor said,
‘Did you notice my dog?
He’s never been in this room before.
He didn’t know what was inside.
He knew nothing except that his master was here,
And when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.
I know little of what is on the other side of death,
But I do know one thing…
I know my Master is there and that is enough’”

Heaven won’t be wonderful because of golden harps or white robes or streets of gold.

Heaven won’t be so desirable for mansions or biblical heroes or anything like that.

The best part of Heaven, the part I long for someday, is that Jesus, God made flesh, will be there.

And that will be enough.