That Ol’ Emmaus Road

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In the story in Luke 24 about the two disciples walking down the Emmaus road, a question probably comes to mind. How could they have not recognized Jesus walking beside them, conversing with them, the whole entire time? I mean, wasn’t he the focus of their lives for three years? How could they have been so blind?

But then I think I understand. Sometimes deep grief and pain can keep you from really seeing what and who is around you. Sometimes, you just get too wrapped up in your own problems and anxieties to really pay attention to where you are.

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Maybe you feel alone and abandoned as you walk your road. You may not realize it, but Jesus is silently walking beside you.

Maybe you feel like you need to clean up your act and get your life together so you can be “good enough” to meet Jesus. You may not be aware of it, but Jesus is already where you are, waiting on you to recognize him, drop your pretenses, and come running into his arms.

It’s interesting to me that the moment those two disciples recognized Jesus was in a moment of worship. They broke bread, like they had done earlier in the week with Jesus, and suddenly their eyes were opened. True worship does that. It helps us to find Jesus and understand that he was already with us all the time.  After all, he wasn’t the one lost and needing to be found. We were.

So maybe all you need to do is cling to the promise Jesus gave that he would never leave us nor forsake us. Maybe you need to reach out your hands in faith to find his own reaching toward you. No matter where you are or what you’ve done, no matter how badly you’ve messed up, Jesus is always ready to receive you again. He’s never stopped loving you or pursuing your heart.

I think that qualifies as the best news ever.

“But We Had Hoped . . . “

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“And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel” (Luke 24:21).

I know you know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed yet again.

Maybe you thought a certain person was the one, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in you like that or she only wanted to be friends.

Maybe you invested in a friendship and found out that you weren’t nearly as high on the other person’s list of priorities. Or maybe that other person saw some of your flaws and decided you just weren’t worth the effort anymore.

Maybe you felt confident after a really good job interview only to discover the company went with someone else they felt was a “better fit.”

Maybe you gave your time and energy and talent to a company for so many years only to find yourself on the receiving end of a pink slip with the words that went something like “we had to make some cutbacks somewhere.”

Maybe you’re at the place where it’s easier not to hope anymore. Where it’s easier not to open up to anyone or trust anyone beyond a surface level anymore. Where it’s easier and safer to give up on your dreams than risk the possibility of more disappointment and heartache.

Just like those two disciples, maybe you and I have gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss who it is that’s walking alongside of us. We’ve missed his comforting words. Don’t you see him yet?

It’s Jesus.

I love what I heard a pastor say recently that went something like this: “Aren’t you glad that at the greatest hour of need that God didn’t send a text or a skype invite? He sent Jesus.”

Jesus has come to hear your story and then connect it with his. Not that he’ll be surprised by anything you tell him. He already knows what you’ve been through, even the ugly parts you would never tell another living soul. And he loves you.

He’ll stick around when friends bail, when spouses leave, when children don’t want to come around anymore. He’ll love you even when you can’t find the strength to love yourself.

Tonight, I’m more thankful for Jesus than ever. I know that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by negative thinking and feelings of abandonment, he’s speaking peace into my chaos. He’s whispering truth over the lies I’m believing.

And he won’t ever leave me.

A Kairos Challenge

Tonight, Mike Glenn spoke about the disciples on the road to Emmaus and how they failed to recognize Jesus because so often the last place we look for Jesus is right where we are. Jesus showed the highest compliment to his disciples when he called them friends and proved it when he laid down his life for these friends.

We are called to do the same. We are called to walk alongside people and be their friend, not for any gain or for any return, but simply for the sake of friendship. Even if the other person shows no inclination toward your viewpoint and wants nothing to do with your God, you are still called to be a friend.

The example Jesus showed us is that a friend is a friend, regardless. I can never give up on a friend because Jesus never gave up on me even though he had plenty of opportunities and reasons to do so.

We’re also called to be neighbors. Not in the sense of location, but in the sense of hospitality. The Good Samaritan parable shows us that the definition of a neighbor is someone who has a need that we have the power to meet, regardless of whether that person looks like us, acts like us, or believes us. Regardless of whether that person is likable or not.

I can’t remember where I heard it before and I’m sure I’ve shared it before, but I love the idea that Jesus is the ultimate neighbor. I was the one lying beaten and bloody on the side of the road, half dead. Jesus was the only one to stop and help me. He was the only one who paid for my care.

So, the challenge tonight is to be a friend and a neighbor. Not necessarily to shove my faith down anyone’s throat or prove the existence of God and the Bible. Just to love people where they are for who they are just like someone once loved me.

That’s all.

An Easter Reboot

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“The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace… We must dare to opt consciously for our chosenness and not allow our emotions, feelings, or passions to seduce us into self-rejection” (Henri Nouwen).

The stone was rolled away from the door, not to permit Christ to come out, but to enable the disciples to go in” (Peter Marshall).

Sometimes, it takes Easter to get my mind refocused. Like so many of you, I can get off track so very easily and forget who I am and what I’m here for. I need to be reminded that I am indeed the beloved, the chosen child of God. My purpose is to live that out as best I can, to become what God has already declared me to be.

I take Easter for granted because I already know how the story ends. Or at least I think I do.

In fact, Easter isn’t an end, but a beginning. C. S. Lewis in his book, The Last Battle, said that all of history was merely a title page and a preface. Eternity is the real beginning of the book, where each chapter is better than the last and the story is truly neverending.

Easter reminds me that my forgiveness might have been free for me, but not free. it might have not cost me anything, but it was not without cost. I don’t need to forget that my forgiveness cost God the very highest price and is the most extravagant gift ever given in history. I don’t need to take that lightly or for granted.

Easter also reminds me that failure isn’t final, that goodbyes aren’t forever, and that truth and faith and love and hope all survive the grave and come out stronger on the other side. I guess that’s why I love it so much.

 


 

Good Friday

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“[B]ut we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (Luke 24:21).

It’s easy to skip past this part on the way to the Easter Sunday celebrations, but this year I feel the need to slow down and try to appreciate what the disciples must have been going through at this point.

Their leader, Jesus, was dead and in the tomb. Their hopes and dreams had been dashed to pieces and they had nothing left. The one they loved had left them.

I know what it’s like to have to say goodbye to a loved one. It’s not easy. To realize you can never go back and unsay harsh words or say words of love. To know that this is final.

All the disciples had at the moment was pieces of a shattered faith and each other. All they could do was sit silently in the same room, lost for words that could possibly bring comfort or understanding. It had all happened so fast. One moment, Jesus was with them, laughing and encouraging them to be strong, the next he was gone.

I wonder if any of the disciples got trapped in the cycle of “if only.” If only we hadn’t gone to Jerusalem. If only we had recognized Judas’ true colors before. If only we could have gotten away from the garden sooner. If only.

They still had so many questions to ask Jesus. There was still so much they didn’t understand, especially about when he said he could raise up the temple again in three days.

Who else would show them the Father in such a real and tangible way? Who else would open up the Scriptures in such a fresh and vibrant way? Who else would teach by such authority?

They had no answers, only questions.

It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.

Storms

This is like one of those albums you buy where there’s a disclaimer that reads something like “all songs previously released. In other words, I’m not saying anything new.

I heard recently that there are three kinds of people: those in a storm, those coming out of a storm, and those fixin’ to get ready (as we say in the South) to head into a storm.

No one is exempt. Storms come to the just and the unjust, to the houses built on solid foundations as well as those built on sand.
What matters in a storm is being ready, because when the time comes, you won’t have time to get ready. You’ll have to be ready.

What does being ready look like?
I think it means you have Jesus in your boat.

I’m pretty sure when my storm comes I’ll be freaking out like the disciples did and telling Jesus to wake up so we can die together.

But Jesus has a way of speaking peace over the storms. And even when he doesn’t calm the storm, he calms his child in the storm.

I’d like to take credit for all that, but it’s not original to me. I’ve heard or read it all before. But these blogs are often reminders for me as much as they are for you.

So I can take credit for about two percent of this blog. It’s a good thing I’m not having to use footnotes.

Just remember he who is in you is greater than whatever’s out there, including storms.

Another prayer from Henri Nouwen (with my own commentary added)

“I pray tonight for all who witness for you in this world: ministers, priests, and bishops, men and women who have dedicated their lives to you, and all those who try to bring the light of the Gospel into the darkness of this age. Give them courage, strength, perseverance, and hope; fill their hearts and minds with the knowledge of your presence, and let them experience your name as their refuge from all dangers. Most of all, give them the joy of your Spirit, so that wherever they go and whomever they meet they will remove the veil of depression, fatalism, and defeatism and will bring new life to the many who live in constant fear of death. Lord, be with all who bring the Good News. Amen.” (Henri Nouwen)

As the old saying goes (or maybe a new one that I just made up), when you can’t think of anything original, borrow and steal from smarter people than you. Actually, this prayer of Henri Nouwen’s is my prayer, said better than I could ever say it on my own, for my friends who are going out and making disciples of all nations, starting in Nashville and ending up in the uttermost parts of the earth. You inspire me to want to do a lot more than I’m doing right now.

Who knows what God has in store for me or you or anyone? I’ve learned that whatever it is, it’s usually way different than what we thought it would be, and way better. So go with it. Jesus calls us to die every day to our rights and desires and dreams and hopes, so that we can live in God’s greater dream for us. As Oswald Chambers wrote, “Trust God and do the next thing.”

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.

Something to think about

When Jesus rose from the grave, one of the first things He did was to find His disciples and comfort them. Think about that! These are the same disciples who ran away and deserted Him in His greatest hour of need. Jesus would have been totally justified in giving up on the lot of them and starting over with 12 fresh new disciples. I probably would have. But He didn’t. He called them brothers and dined with them and gave them His mission to make disciples of all nations.

And there’s Peter. The one who betrayed Him. The one who denied that he knew Him. He singled Peter out and got Peter to affirm his love for Jesus for every time he had denied him. These 12 men went on to radically transform the entire world. No, wait. Jesus sent His Holy Spirit, who radically transformed the entire known world through the availability of 12 former traitors.

Can God use me after I have failed Him? Can God use you after you have royally messed up? The answer to the question is a resounding YES! God can take brokenness and make something beautiful out of it. God can take a disastrous mistake and turn into the start of something dynamic and revolutionary.

So what do I do with people who have failed me? What hopefully should people whom I have failed (God willing!) do? We should be like Jesus in this and forgive them. Forgiveness is a beautiful word to me because I see daily just how much I need it and how much I need to give it. While giving up on someone is sometimes the proper thing to do, giving second chances is the better thing to do (unless they are intentionally trying to do you harm, in which case you forgive but don’t give them the chance to hurt you again).

Jesus, give me the strength to live this out and by forgiving enable people to come out of shame and into Your glorious light. Help me to remember that as I forgive them, You will forgive me. I can’t do this on my own. I will need You every step of the way. Have Your way in me.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.