Easter Season Liturgy Part II

ko1

Seeing as  how this is Holy Week, I thought I’d continue with the theme I started yesterday. This is a prayer of confession and forgiveness that was also a part of the liturgical Kairos service last night:

“We serve a risen Saviour yet live as if in chains. Forgive us, Lord that we are so hesitant to live the resurrection life. Forgive us that we fail to show through word and action the truth that you loved us into your kingdom through the glorious mystery of the Cross. Forgive us that there is still fear in our lives that prevents us from achieving our full potential. Draw us close. Open our eyes to the glory of the risen Christ, our hearts to the wonder of the Cross and our hands to the service of your kingdom where you have placed us. That your name might be glorified through our lives.

AMEN

God of resurrection
of life and death
rebirth
All: Renew our hearts and minds
God of promise
of all beginnings
and all endings
All: Renew our hearts and minds
God of hope
of new growth
and harvest
All: Renew our hearts and minds”

I hope that for me, Easter is a reminder of the penalty that I could NEVER have paid that was paid for me, the cost to redeem me from sin that I could NEVER have afforded but was paid for me. He who knew no sin BECAME sin that I might become the righteousness of God in Christ. He who never did wrong and never took ONE disobedient step ever in His ENTIRE life bore the punishment and shame for ALL my misdeeds and sins and disobedience and rebellion.

As much as I’m all for Easter eggs and bunny rabbits and candy (especially those Cadbury eggs), I hope I never lose sight of why I really and truly celebrate Easter this and every year. Jesus died FOR ME.

Easter Season Liturgy Part I

ko1

Tonight at Kairos we had a liturgical Easter service but with a Kairos-style twist. It was a very cool blend of modern and ancient forms of worship. I was particularly moved by the responsive reading we did at the start:

“Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us a little child 
one of us,
flesh and blood to share in our humanity
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as carpenter
and yet in whose creative hands a world was fashioned
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as fisherman
and yet pointed to a harvest that was yet to come
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as teacher
and opened eyes to truths that only 
the poor could understand
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as healer
and opened hearts to the reality of wholeness
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as prophet, priest and king
and yet humbled himself 
to take our place upon the cross
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus who came to us as servant
and revealed to us the extent of his Father’s love 
for human kind
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

Blest are you, Lord Jesus, who rose 
from the ignominy of a sinner’s death
to the triumph of a Saviour’s resurrection
For God so loved the world
ALL: That all might have eternal life.

God so loved the world that he gave his only Son
for the sake of me
and you
and other sinners too
God so loved the world
Blest are you Lord Jesus, our Saviour and Redeemer.
ALL: Thanks be to the God of Love. Amen”

I think it’s good to step out of your comfort zone when it comes to worship. For me, that meant going to a Roman Catholic Ash Wednesday service last year. Whatever it is for you, it’s good to get out of your own faith tradition and see things from different points of view sometimes. It helps you to know what you believe and– better still– why you believe what you believe.

More on that to come tomorrow.

 

A Lenten Prayer by Brennan Manning

dearabba

I just found this and it reminded me why Brennan Manning is one of my favorite writers of faith.

“In my first-ever experience of being loved for nothing I had done or could do, I moved back and forth between mild ecstasy, silent wonder, and hushed trembling. The aura might be best described as ‘bright darkness.’ The moment lingered on in a timeless now, until without warning I felt a hand grip my heart. It was abrupt and startling.

The awareness of being loved was no longer tender and comforting. The love of Christ, the crucified Son of God, took on the wild fury of a sudden spring storm. Like a dam bursting, a spasm of convulsive crying erupted from the depths of my soul. Jesus died on the cross for me.

Dear Abba,

Ten thousand things are already vying for my attention. Wait, actually make that ten thousand and one. Some of them are shallow — like what shoes I will wear today — but some of them are legitimate: lunch with a friend, a doctor’s appointment, responding to a letter. Still, they are all earthly things. So startle me, I pray. Burst into the compound of my senses and steal me away from the urgent tyrannies already seeking to keep my eyes fixed on things below. You died for me. For me. That is the one thing; nothing else compares.”

Two thoughts: 1) I must find out where  I can get this book and 2) I hope Easter Sunday doesn’t arrive to find me comfortable or complacent, taking God’s love for me for granted. I want it to shake me to my very core and radically disrupt my life. I want to be stirred out of comfortable ruts and compelled into a deeper, wilder, more passionate love for Jesus who didn’t not negotiate percentages on the cross, but gave absolutely 100% of Himself for me.

The Suffering Servant Part I

Thorn again … Jim Caviezel as Jesus in Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ (2004).

Indeed, who would ever believe it?
    Who would possibly accept what we’ve been told?[a]
    Who has witnessed the awesome power and plan of the Eternal in action?[b]
Out of emptiness he came, like a tender shoot from rock-hard ground.
He didn’t look like anything or anyone of consequence—
    he had no physical beauty to attract our attention.
So he was despised and forsaken by men,
    this man of suffering, grief’s patient friend.
As if he was a person to avoid, we looked the other way;
    he was despised, forsaken, and we took no notice of him.
Yet it was our suffering he carried,
    our pain and distress, our sick-to-the-soul-ness.
We just figured that God had rejected him,
    that God was the reason he hurt so badly.
But he was hurt because of us; he suffered so.
    Our wrongdoing wounded and crushed him.
He endured the breaking that made us whole.
    The injuries he suffered became our healing.
We all have wandered off, like shepherdless sheep,
    scattered by our aimless striving and endless pursuits;
The Eternal One laid on him, this silent sufferer,
    the sins of us all” (Isaiah 53:1-6).

This is what Easter is all about. That the promised Messiah would suffer and die was something almost no one would have anticipated, even though the prophets clearly foretold it. Many were expecting a military savior to drive out the Romans and restore Israel as a nation.

But here we see God with a much larger purpose in mind. Not only did Jesus come to Earth to save those children of Israel, but He also had in mind peoples from every part of the world. People of every tongue, tribe, and nation.

This Easter, I remember that it was for my wrongdoing that Jesus was crushed. It was for my healing that He suffered grievous injuries. By His stripes, I am made whole and healed and complete.

I love that Jesus didn’t give 10% for me. Or even 20%. He gave 100%. He gave absolutely all of Himself for me.

May you and I remember that this Easter.

 

What I Gave Up for Lent This Year

image

Last year, I gave up Facebook for Lent. I won’t lie. It was harder than I thought it would be. I found out how much of a hold Facebook had on me and how much of my time it consumed.

It was freeing to not feel tied down to Facebook, to not have to check to see who responded to my posts. Who liked them. I admit I didn’t always use the extra time toward seeking God. But it was a start.

This year, I’m giving up ALL forms of social media. For those of you new to the interweb, that means Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest. I checked E) All of the above.

This is my second day and the old tug is back. That tug that says that one glance won’t hurt. That one look won’t lead to an hour or more checking status updates of friends.

I covet your prayers. Specifically, I’m asking for you to pray that I’d use this time more intentionally to seek God in prayer and in His Word. That I’d be open to whatever He says, whether it’s something I want to hear or not, whether it’s easy or painful, even if it requires me to die a little more to the safe and comfortable and routine.

As you probably surmised, I haven’t given up WordPress. It’s funny how God can speak to me through my own writing, sometimes while I’m in the very midst of writing it. This and a sleepy cat in my lap are my forms of therapy.

I’ll keep you updated on what I’m learning and hearing from God during these 46 days of Lent. I’d love to spend this time praying for you specifically as well, so feel free to text me your prayer requests at (615) 556-5850 or email me at gmendel72@icloud.com. I am also available to meet with you in person (if you live close to the Nashville area). But please, no autographs. 😁

May this God that the grave couldn’t hold draw you ever closer to Him during this season of remembering and reflection and become the very desire of your heart. Amen.

A Beautiful Borrowed Lenten Prayer

Nouwen

 

I found this Lenten prayer from Henri Nouwen when checking my email. I’m subscribed to a site that sends me a daily quote of his because I am a huge fan of his writing. This one spoke powerfully to me and echoed my own thoughts better than I could ever express them. It seems very appropriate for this Ash Wednesday.

“The Lenten season begins. It is a time to be with you, Lord, in a special way, a time to pray, to fast, and thus to follow you on your way to Jerusalem, to Golgotha, and to the final victory over death.

I am still so divided. I truly want to follow you, but I also want to follow my own desires and lend an ear to the voices that speak about prestige, success, pleasure, power, and influence. Help me to become deaf to these voices and more attentive to your voice, which calls me to choose the narrow road to life.

I know that Lent is going to be a very hard time for me. The choice for your way has to be made every moment of my life. I have to choose thoughts that are your thoughts, words that are your words, and actions that are your actions. There are not times or places without choices. And I know how deeply I resist choosing you.

Please, Lord, be with me at every moment and in every place. Give me the strength and the courage to live this season faithfully, so that, when Easter comes, I will be able to taste with joy the new life that you have prepared for me. Amen.”

I could only add that God would give me the discipline to take the time I normally spend on social media and use it to delve into His Word and not just read words but to have my mind and heart transformed by what I read.

 

Things I Love 8: Greg’s Sanity Has Left the Building

island hammock

FYI: these blogs will continue until I get to 1,000 things I love. It’s from the book, One Thousand Gifts, so I’m trying to list out– wait for it– 1,000 little things that I believe are God’s gifts to me and daily reminders that stir me to gratitude and thanksgiving as a lifestyle. Plus, I don’t have to worry about what I will be blogging on until at least July of 2014. Just kidding. Sort of.

Ok. Here goes the list, starting at #168. Drum roll, please.

168) Looking through old photo albums and reliving those old memories and remembering people who’ve been gone from my life for a while (and thinking they’re looking down from heaven and smiling at those photos, too).

169) My extremely loud Hawaiian shirt, which one random teenager called “sick.” I guess that’s a compliment. I’m not really sure.

170) Everything related to either Narnia and Wardrobes or Middle Earth and Hobbits.

171) Surprise birthday parties (hint, hint, subtle subliminal suggestion. . . cough).

172) Celebrating Easter and remembering that the Resurrection changed EVERYTHING. Including me.

173) That Jesus would have chosen the nails and the cross and the agony if only for me alone.

174) By Jesus loving me unconditionally and prodigally, he made me loveable.

175) Silent movies.

176) Box hockey (and the fact that I know what box hockey is).

177) All my high school reunions where I see old friends and get to catch up after 10 (or 20) years apart.

178) That I get to be a small part of Kairos, a worship gathering for young adults, every week and I see God at work there every single week.

179) Being content in my relationships and not obsessively wondering where they might or might not be headed,

180) Knowing that if the absolute worst case scenario should happen, I would still be loved by Jesus and God would still work even that out for my good and his glory.

181) How randomly my brain works these days.

182) The vast array of autumn colors from the leaves changing and falling.

183) Doing small random acts of kindness for people when they least expect it.

184) Any positive news stories (because they are sadly the exception and not the rule).

185) That I’m down to 715 more things to be thankful for.

186) Now it’s only 714.

187) That I’m not what everyone else thinks I am or even what I think of myself, but only what Jesus says I am– Chosen, Redeemed, Beloved, Child of God, Forgiven, Free, etc.

188) That Jesus won’t ever stop reminding me of my true identity and sending friends who will help me remember the song in my heart when I forget the words.

189) Lightning bugs at night in an open field.

190) Cheese grits made just right.

191) That I probably have at least 32 more of these blogs a-comin’ your way. But not in a row.

An Easter Reboot

resurrection

“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

goodfriday

“[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’.

Behold, I Am Making All Things New

image

There’s a part on The Passion of the Christ that is not in the Bible in the strictest sense, but I think it fits. The part where Jesus falls while carrying the cross and His mother runs up to Him to help Him and comfort Him and He tells her in essence, “I have to do this because I am making all things new.” That is such a great line and it struck me powerfully tonight.

To the one who has struggled with addictions for years, He is making all things new.

To the one who keeps getting visited by the same old fears, He is making all things new.

To the one whose life feels wasted and who feels unneccesary to anybody or anything, He is making all things new.

To the one who said goodbye to a loved one and buried a piece of their heart with them, He is making all things new.

To the one who carries a broken heart that hurts more than it did when it was broken the first time, He is making all things new.

To the one who has almost lost hope that anything will ever get better, He is making all things new.

To the orphan and widow, the homeless and outcast, the unwanted and unloved, He is making all things new.

He is making everything right again. He is making all the lies come untrue.

He can make you new. Not just better or stronger, but a completely new creation. One where you get to be what you always wished you could be and dreamed about, but never thought could actually happen. All you have to do is look up to Jesus and say, “Help me. I need You.”

Celebrated this Easter the Day that made it possible for you to start over. Know that it’s never ever too late for a do-over. He never gets tired of making broken things whole, dirty things clean, and old things new. Including you.

Amen and amen.