The Cross, the Manger, and the Tomb

“How proper it is that Christians should look toward the future…for the manger is situated on Golgotha and the Cross has already been raised in Bethlehem” (attributed to Dag Hammarskjold).

I heard a sermon once where the pastor drew a parallel between the stone manger that Mary and Joseph laid Jesus in as a baby and the stone tomb that Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea laid Jesus’ body in after He was crucified. Note: the manger was more likely made of stone because the animals would have destroyed a wooden feeding trough.

When we see a sweet little Jesus baby in the manger of our nativity, we can forget that the purpose of Him being born into this world was to die for our sins. Simeon even prophesied to Mary that a sword would pierce her heart, pointing to the moment she would witness her own Son on the cross.

Really, Christmas and Easter aren’t two different events. They are the beginning and ending of one event. God planned before the foundation of the world that Jesus would die for us in our place. Before sin even existed, a remedy was already in place. Jesus slain from the foundation of the world is how the Bible puts it.

It’s just as important to remind people (including ourselves) of our need for the gospel just as much on Christmas as on Easter. While it might seem more appropriate to preach an evangelistic sermon after we celebrate the empty tomb, it works just as well when we bow before the manger with the child born to be a sacrifice.

I hope this Christmas we don’t just celebrate part of the story of the incarnation. While it’s more pleasant to focus only on Jesus as a tiny infant during this Advent season, we must remember that that infant became the man who perfectly obeyed God’s law at every point and fulfilled God’s righteous requirements in our place. He then took the punishment for our sin that we deserved and died in our place. That’s the whole Christmas story just as much as it is the whole Easter story.

Thank You, Jesus, that you were born to die so that we who have died in our sin might be born again and have eternal and abundant life forever. Amen.

11 Years Later

I figured out a little while ago that it was 11 years ago today that The Church at Avenue South had their first ever Easter service at 2510 Franklin Road, months before the official September launch of the campus. I distinctly remember we had rows of white plastic folding chairs set in front of a screen. There were maybe 100 of us with a handful of kids.

This Sunday, we had an overflow set up in the basement with just as many chairs. Upstairs in the sanctuary, we had three services to accommodate over 900 worshippers with plenty of kids in attendance. Not to mention we celebrated our first ever Easter Sunday in our new facility that probably seemed like a pipe-dream 11 years ago.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the tyranny of the urgent and forget that sometimes we are living in the answered prayers of the past. So many of those things we pleaded with God to have are now the same things we routinely take for granted in our quest to get more from God.

That’s why gratitude is vital to the life of a believer and to a community of faith. It stops entitlement dead in its tracks and keeps us reminded of God’s continual faithfulness because we like those Israelites of old are forgetful and prone to wander.

I love that we have so many new members who never set foot in the 2510 Franklin Road location. Probably a small handful are left who remember that first Easter service in 2014. But God was there. And He still shows up every Sunday at 901 Acklen Avenue.

I can’t wait to see what the next 11 years holds in store. Or even the next 11 months. Whatever it is, I’m sure it will be exceedingly abundantly beyond anything we could ever ask or dream or imagine or hope for. That’s just God’s way.

The Last Week

Today is Palm Sunday and marks the beginning of the last week of Jesus’ earthly ministry, the week leading up to Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I’ve been here before, but I feel like so many times I’ve rushed to get through it to what’s next.

This time, I want to slow down a bit and sit under the cross. I want to be still long enough to hear God speak a word over me about what this week means for me and for all those who call on the Messiah out of a genuine faith. I want to be moved to tears and fully take in the price that Jesus paid for me.

I finished an incredible devotional by one of my favorite writers, Charles Martin. It’s called It Is Finished and spends 40 days walking the path that led from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday, sparing no details and leaving no stone unturned. It was one of the best books I’ve read in a long time, and I hope to read it again some day.

I want Easter to mean more than the Easter Bunny or Cadbury chocolate eggs (though I am very much a fan of both). I don’t want to look at the date on the calendar and miss the point of the day — Jesus who knew no sin became sin for me that I might become the righteousness of God in Christ.

I don’t want to be the same person in seven days as the person who is now writing these words. I want to be more like Jesus, more aware of the sacrifice He made, and more willing to count the cost and take up my own cross. I want to be more of a disciple and less of an admirer. I want to be more of a follower and less of a fan. I want to be a truly biblical Christian and not a watered-down, American Christian.

I’m thankful that God is far more patient with me than I am with Him and takes far more time with me than I ever have with Him. At this point, I say, “Lord, do whatever it takes to make me Yours, Your disciple, Your own. Have Your way in me. Amen.”

He Suffered for Us

“I could never myself believe in God, if it were not for the cross. The only God I believe in is the one Nietzsche ridiculed as “God on the Cross.” In the real world of pain, how could one worship a God who was immune to it? I have entered many Buddhist temples and stood respectfully before the statue of Buddha, his legs crossed, arms folded, eyes closed, the ghost of a smile playing round his mouth, a remote look on his face, detached from the agonies of the world. But each time after a while I have had to turn away. And in imagination I have turned instead to that lonely, twisted, tortured figure on the cross, nails through hands and feet, back lacerated, limbs wrenched, brow bleeding from thorn-pricks, mouth dry and intolerably thirsty, plunged in Godforsaken darkness. That is the God for me! He laid aside his immunity to pain. He entered our world of flesh and blood, tears and death. He suffered for us” (John Stott).

Every other religion is about working our way to God and somehow managing to be good enough or obey enough rules or simply to be lucky enough to get to heaven or nirvana or whatever they believe exists after death. But Christianity is the story about how God in Jesus has come to us (and I hear Mike Glenn’s voice as I type these words). Jesus knew that man could never climb high enough to get to heaven, so He came from heaven to live among us and die for us.

It’s still a few weeks away from Lent Season and Easter, but I still think it’s good to remember that God doesn’t watch us suffering from a distance. He’s with us in our suffering. Best of all, He became one of us and suffered for us more than anyone before or since to provide redemption and salvation and freedom to all who would receive Him.

That’s a good thought for Easter, but it’s also good for any time of the year. It’s good especially for times like these when pain and suffering are the norm rather than the exception. Your King knows all about suffering and He is still here and He still reigns. One day, He will make all things right. This is our God, and Jesus is His name.

Still Rolls the Stone

As you know, I am currently collecting old CCM vinyl. One of my favorite parts is discovering artists that I missed back in the day because they weren’t my style of music at the time. One of those is Bob Bennett, a singer-songwriter in the vein of James Taylor and Dan Fogelberg.

One of his songs that resonated deeply with me is the song Still Rolls the Stone, which speaks to Easter but also speaks to God’s ability to make any dead thing come alive and to turn those of us who were dead in our trespasses and sins into living sons and daughters of God.

Basically, the gist of the song is that because of an empty tomb on a Sunday morning, we can trust God to keep His promises and to finish what He started in each of us:

“Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone from the grave

I tore off my grave clothes
And cried a pool of tears
For the voice of the Living One
Who spoke the stars and spheres
Has called me from my darkness
And led me to this place
Where the dead leap
And the blind see His face

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone from the grave

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone from the grave

Hearts aflame with mercy
Like the sun in midnight sky
While the doubter shrugs his shoulders
And the cynic wonders why
But as it is in Heaven
So now we proclaim
The Lord tells us here to do the same

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
(Rolls the stone away)
Still rolls the stone from the grave, oh…

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
(Rolls the stone away)
Still rolls the stone from the grave

In the still of a Sunday morning
A grave stands open wide
And a promise kept
While the world slept
Means that no one is inside

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone from the grave, oh…

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
(Rolls the stone away)
Still rolls the stone from the grave

Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone
Still rolls the stone from the grave” (Bob Bennett)

Being the Easter People

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

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).

Looking for the Living Among the Dead

“They were puzzled, wondering what to make of this. Then, out of nowhere it seemed, two men, light cascading over them, stood there. The women were awestruck and bowed down in worship. The men said, ‘Why are you looking for the Living One in a cemetery? He is not here, but raised up'” (Luke 24:5-6, The Message).

I heard an interesting definition of the word amazed that was used in another translation of this passage. Basically, the women had no category for what they’d just witnessed. They had arrived with spices and other essentials needed for finishing up the burial preparations for Jesus, only to find no Jesus.

Sure, they had seen Jesus raise other people from the dead. They had also heard Jesus’ own words about being handed over to sinful men, crucified, and being raised again. But those words seemed hollow against the reality of Jesus being dead.

Easter is nothing without a physical resurrection. If Jesus is only alive in our hearts, we might as well give up on the whole church thing and do whatever we want and live however we feel like. If Jesus is actually still in that tomb, then there’s no real hope and no real future.

So many other religions claim to offer a way of life and salvation, but all their leaders are truly dead and buried. Only Christianity can offer eyewitness accounts to a risen and living Lord. Only Christianity has a God who knows the way out of the grave.

That’s why Jesus could truthfully proclaim that He was the only way, truth, and life, and that we could only come to the Father through Him. He’s the only one still living to show us the way — to be the way. He’s the only one who actually took our place and paid for our sins.

The resurrection is the final validation of the truth of Jesus’ life and words. Based on what He said, He couldn’t just be a good man or a wise teacher. He’d have to be a liar, a lunatic, or Lord. Those are the only options.

The empty tomb and the risen Jesus show that He is Lord of all.

Holy Saturday Hope

“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.

Maundy Thursday & Beyond

“The symbols under which Heaven is presented to us are (a) a dinner party, (b) a wedding, (c) a city, and (d) a concert. It would be grotesque to suppose that the guests or citizens or members of the choir didn’t know one another. And how can love of one another be commanded in this life if it is to be cut short at death?

Think of yourself just as a seed patiently waiting in the earth: waiting to come up a flower in the Gardener’s good time, up into the real world, the real waking. I suppose that our whole present life, looked back on from there, will seem only a drowsy half- waking. We are here in the land of dreams. But cock-crow is coming” (C. S. Lewis, The Collected Letters of C. S. Lewis, Volume III).

Maundy Thursday is a good reminder of being in the not yet. On that day, all the hard and painful things still lay ahead. Jesus was getting closer to the cross. It was only a matter of waiting.

Sometimes, that waiting can seem like forever. In a sense, we’d almost prefer knowing the worst rather than not knowing at all. And for us, those old fleshly fears can creep up on us during the wait, adding to the anxiety.

But all this present suffering is temporary, just as the suffering of Jesus between Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Jesus was able to endure all that because of the joy that was set before Him that came on the other side of Golgotha. So we also know that just beyond our pain is a greater joy. Just on the other side of suffering is eternal peace.

We wait just as Jesus waited, knowing that beyond the cross and death was an empty tomb and the resurrection. We wait with hope — not a wishful thinking kind of hope, but a rock-solid certainty kind. The victory has already been won.