death

Easter Sunday 2015

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File Apr 05, 9 15 22 PM

“It is good for us to remember that this stone was rolled away from the entrance, not to permit Christ to come out but to enable the disciples to go in!” (Peter Marshall)

“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act” (Mahatma Gandhi).

“God proved His love on the Cross. When Christ hung, and bled, and died, it was God saying to the world, ‘I love you'” (Billy Graham).

“But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for, as in the Old Testament, it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship. The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at a Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross” (Bono).

For me, Easter is a bit harder to prepare for than Christmas. You don’t have nearly the commercialism of the season constantly reminding you that the day is coming. Also, Easter isn’t on a fixed day every year like Christmas.

Most of all, Easter isn’t quite the feel-good story that Christmas is. You don’t have the cute little infant being cradled by loving Mary as a doting Joseph watches on. You have the gory spectacle of the cross and the death of an innocent Man to deal with.

But you need both, I think. You can’t have the Greatest Story Ever Told without both the virgin birth and the death and resurrection. If Jesus wasn’t born of a virgin Mary, then He’s not qualified to die for anyone’s sins but His own. If He isn’t raised from the dead, then we are still stuck in our sins and just as hopeless as before.

So I love both seasons. More than that, I love how Advent comes before Christmas and Lent comes before Easter, giving us time to prepare our hearts and minds for what it all means.

This year, Easter means that no life is wasted. It means that every life matters and every single person ever born matters to God. It means that your and my identity doesn’t come from honor rolls or bank accounts or resumes, but from Calvary. At the core, who I am is the Beloved of God, who proved that He thought I was worth dying for on that cross.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, there are only 263 days left until Christmas.

 

 

On a Rainy Good Friday

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I drove home in a monsoon. Or it felt like a monsoon to this Middle Tennessean. The picture above is a fairly accurate depiction of what I saw through my own windshield– not much at all– as I motored down the interstate. Twice, a passing car splashed a lot of water on my car and I literally couldn’t see anything for a few seconds that felt a lot longer than a few seconds. I gripped the steering wheel, prayed hard, and kept going.

I think I even passed through a small amount of hail, which I can safely say with almost 98% certainty was a first for me. I’ve never seen so many cars pulled over to the side of the road under overpasses to wait out the deluge. But I trudged onward, slowly and cautiously.

I was nervous, but not panicky. I figured that God was more than able to get me through the rain and it had to let up sooner or later. No rain, literal or figurative, can last forever.

On another Good Friday, there wasn’t a whole lot of sunshine. It was both literally and metaphorically one of the darkest days in the history of humanity. Jesus had breathed His last on the cross and they had taken Him down to be buried in a borrowed tomb.

I can read about it knowing the rest of the story, but for those living it in real time, they had no idea that a resurrection was coming. Those disciples who had fled during Jesus’ arrest had witnessed the crucifixion from afar. Or maybe they hid out and received reports from those who were there, Either way, they had seen their world end.

I’ve been there. I’ve been in places that felt like dead ends and wondered how I would ever get back.

But Easter is about a God who knows the way out of the grave. And though it may be Friday, Sunday’s comin’!

 

Spring Has Sprung (Again)

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Officially, spring starts at the spring equinox at 6:45 pm EDT (or 5:45 for those lucky enough to be living in CST). For me, spring is here.

It certainly feels like spring. I can wear shorts and not have my legs turn blue, so to me that equals spring. Plus, all those flowers and leaves will soon be blooming everywhere. My apologies to those blessed with that lovely condition known as hay fever. You will be feeling it over the next few weeks.

I love seasons. True, I love fall most of all, but I love the fact that I live where there are four distinct seasons. It reminds me that in order for there to be new life, there must first be a death of sorts. I don’t think I’d love any one season if it lasted indefinitely. Even summer would get old for me after a while. I love summer because I know that autumn is not far behind. I love autumn because I know it is a harbinger of winter. I love winter because of the promise of spring. And I love spring because I know it’s a preparation for summer.

I’ve come to trust God in each season of my life. Whether that be a season of plenty or a season of lacking, I know that the same God of summer is the God of winter. I can be content whether my cup is running over or whether I’m empty-handed (to paraphrase the Apostle Paul).

To me, the lesson of the four seasons is that it is inevitable that God’s promises will come to pass. Just as winter turns into spring, God will whatever’s bad in my life into good. Just as spring passes into summer, so God will guide me through the difficult seasons of my own life. Just as summer morphs into fall, so my God will stay present in my life through every change of weather. And just as fall becomes winter, God will stay the same as He was in the other three seasons.

So yeah, I like spring.

Elvis Turns 80?

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Elvis-Presley

So, today would have been Elvis Presley’s 80th birthday. August 16 will mark 38 years since he passed away very suddenly in 1977 and left the music world in mourning. People still show up at Graceland on the anniversary of his death almost 40 years later to mourn and grieve his passing.

I was a huge Elvis fan when I was a kid. Maybe it’s because my dad loved Elvis’ music. Maybe it was because even at a young age, I connected with the singer who grew up in Memphis and never forgot where he came from even after he became mega-successful.

Elvis is a reminder to all of us that fame can be the best and worst thing to happen to a person. It’s the best because all their dreams come true and it can be the worst because all the scrutiny and pressure on that person increases a thousandfold and any character flaws that person has are magnified and exposed in a myriad of ways.

So maybe that’s why I haven’t been hugely successful and popular with my blog. Yeah, I’ll go with that.

I’ve heard stories about how Elvis never lost his love for Gospel music and always sung spiritual and sacred songs at his concerts. I can’t speak into the man’s beliefs, but to me that says something. It reminds me of my grandmother who passed away from Alzheimer’s a few years back. She couldn’t tell you her address or probably remember your name, but she could still remember the old hymns that she grew up loving.

There’s power in those songs, both old and new. When Andre Crouch sang about the blood that never loses its power, he was singing powerful truth.

So I watched a couple of Elvis movies and remembered that as an actor, Elvis was a really good singer. His movies aren’t the best ever made and can be painfully bad at times, but they’re still fun to watch.

I personally would much rather listen to his Gospel recordings.

Not Forgotten

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It’s funny that it took the death of Robin Williams to put him back in the spotlight. Suddenly, all his movies are flying off the shelves at places like Best Buy and Barnes & Noble and seemingly every other hashtag is some variation of either #ohcaptainmycaptain or #riprobinwilliams. Before he died, I hadn’t really thought about him much. Or at all. At least not in a long, long time.

We as a culture are so good at eulogizing and paying tribute to those we’ve lost, but not so good at remembering them while they’re still with us. And we have such short memories. Soon, we’ll be back to business as usual– until the next tragedy or until the next big celebrity passes away.

But something occurred to me just now.

There is never a moment when I am not on God’s mind. There’s not a time when He doesn’t see me and what I’m going through. There will never be an instant when He doesn’t love me as unconditionally and completely as if I were the only person on the planet.

You hardly ever hear anyone talk about Whitney Houston anymore. Or Philip Seymour Hoffman. Soon, all the talk about Robin Williams will die down and we’ll find something new to talk about.

But not in a million years will my God forget me. Not in a billion years will He ever desert me. His love for me will never ever decrease by even one iota. Not even if I were to forget Him.

I’m sitting in St. Paul’s with the lights off. It’s dark and quiet and still. The only sounds I hear are the hum of the air conditioning unit and the occasional pops and creaks of the old floorboards settling.

I am at peace. I’m reminded of what’s really important and what really matters. It’s not what you have or what you do for a living or who you know. It’s about being known and loved and cherished perfectly by the God who made you.

Remember this one thing if nothing else. You are not forgotten.

O Captain! My Captain! Part II

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I’m currently watching Dead Poets Society, featuring the late Robin Williams. It’s one of my favorites but I hadn’t seen it in a very long time. I don’t have a good reason for that. I’m just stating a fact.

In it, Robin Williams references a poem by Walt Whitman written in honor of the late Abraham Lincoln just after his assasination. It seems very fitting in tribute to Mr. Williams now.

“O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”

My Creed (A Work in Progress)

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Note: I don’t intend this to be in any way universal or a replacement for any of the historical creeds that have served the Church so well down through the centuries. I do think it’s a good thing to formulate your own beliefs and to be able to summarize all that you believe. It’s vitally important to KNOW what you believe and to be able to explain it to someone else. So here goes:

I believe God created the heavens and the earth and called it good.

I believe God created male and female and called it very good.

I believe the woman was deceived and the man soon followed after and sin entered the world.

I believe in that moment, death entered the world.

I believe that God became one of us and came to dwell among us.

I believe He died in my place for my sins so that I might live with Him.

I believe He rose again to defeat death once and for all.

I believe He offers rest to the weary, hope to the despairing, and life to all who call on His name.

I believe that whoever calls on His name will be saved from death to eternal life.

I believe He is returning soon for His own.

I believe in the end, Love wins.

Lessons from The Walking Dead

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dead

I watch a show called The Walking Dead. It’s not for the squeamish. Yes, there are zombies (referred to as ‘walkers). Yes, there is plenty o’ blood and guts a-flying’ everywhere. Yes, you get attached to characters only to see them killed off.

But I think there are a few life lessons from this show that I’d like to pass on:

1) If these zombies ever took to lifting weights, would they then be “power walkers?”

2) Family matters, even if that family isn’t flesh and blood. It’s better to be with imperfect people who care about you and have your back than to be alone.

3) No matter what face you may present to the public, the truth of who you really are will always come out. It’s no good to fight evil and become worse than the evil you’re fighting.

4) No matter how far you’ve sunk or what you’ve done, there’s always the hope of becoming something better. There’s nothing so bad in people that can’t be redeemed. I happen to believe that God does the redeeming and I am the one being redeemed.

5) If you ever do run into a zombie, make sure you kill the brain. And be sure not to wear anything you don’t mind getting ruined by blood and guts.

I think that covers it for now. I just finished up season 3, which puts me roughly one season behind (so no spoiler alerts, please).

Peter and Paul

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peter-and-paul movie_73

I remember watching a mini-series when I was a kid, probably 8 or 9. It was about the lives of the apostles Peter and Paul. It was titled, creatively enough, Peter and Paul.

I remember ever since then that whenever I read the words of Paul in one of his letters, I always hear Anthony Hopkins’ voice. I guess that means that the series had an impact on me.

I watched it again 30something years later. It’s not 100% accurate to the account of the Acts of the Apostles, as penned by Luke, but it gets the important stuff right. I’m reminded that the early believers paid a dear price for proclaiming their faith.

They were persecuted and belittled. Some were even tortured and killed. All for the name of Jesus. All for saying that Jesus, and not Caesar, is Lord.

I don’t have any reference to compare that to. I’ve never faced any real persecution for my beliefs. I’ve never face the choice of recanting or dying. I’ve never lost anything for professing what I believe.

I do think that at some foreseeable point in the future, we as American believers will have to sacrifice for our beliefs. It may cost us our jobs, our homes, our relationships. Even our lives and the lives of those we love.

I honestly hope I’d be brave enough to still profess Jesus as Lord, but I know me too well. Only by the grace of God given in that moment would I be able to hold fast to my faith in that hour. And no, I don’t think God gives me that strength to bear until the time when it is needed. Grace for the moment.

I do think that God asks us to be faithful in smaller matters so that when the big tests do come, we will be ready. If we’re faithful in the little things, God can entrust us with the larger matters.

Ultimately, it’s not about how strong my grip is to hold onto Jesus, but how strong His grip is to hold onto me. That’s what will get me though.

 

The Condescension of God

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con·de·scen·sion

 [kon-duh–sen-shuhn]  Show IPA

noun

1.

an act or instance of condescending.
2.

behavior that is patronizing or condescending.
3.

voluntary assumption of equality with a person regarded as inferior.
Ok, for the purposes of this blog, forget #1 and #2. Put them out of your mind. I want to focus on #3. Because that’s what God did for us.
Let me explain.
This is the God of whom Isaiah wrote, “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
This God would be completely unknowable unless He had first chosen to reveal Himself to us. He would have remained completely incomprehensible unless He had chosen to reveal His nature and His character. And  He didn’t get all high and mighty with us or look down His celestial nose at us. He looked at us with pity and compassion. But mostly with love.
Truly, this God is not like one of us, only bigger, stronger, faster. He is not the ultimate $6 million dollar man. He is holy, set apart, wholly other.
Jesus is the ultimate example of God’s condescension to man. He who was infinitely higher than we could ever hope or aspire to be, voluntarily assumed equality with those who were His inferiors, i.e. us. He became one of us. Or as Paul puts it in Philippians,
“Though He was in the form of God,
    He chose not to cling to equality with God;
But He poured Himself out to fill a vessel brand new;
    a servant in form
    and a man indeed.
The very likeness of humanity,
He humbled Himself,
    obedient to death—
    a merciless death on the cross!
So God raised Him up to the highest place
    and gave Him the name above all.
So when His name is called,
    every knee will bow,
    in heaven, on earth, and below.
And every tongue will confess
    ‘Jesus, the Anointed One, is Lord,’
    to the glory of God our Father!”
I’m thankful that when I couldn’t get to God, He came to me. I’m grateful that it wasn’t me who found God, but rather it was He who found me. He wasn’t lost. I was. I’m mostly glad that He didn’t (and doesn’t) leave me where He found me but constantly makes me a little bit more like Jesus every day.
So, yeah, I suppose I do like that word condescension now.