Good Friday

The Last Week

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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.”

Peter, Peter, Peter

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Tonight was the last Wednesday night Bible study at the church for a bit. At least until August. But it was a good one. We had Matt Pearson from the West Franklin campus leading us through the last of Praying through the Psalms, looking at Psalm 118 through the lens of the events leading up to Good Friday.

Specifically, he talked about how so many missed the meaning behind Psalm 118 as they most likely sang it on the night Jesus was betrayed and arrested. It was one of the Hallel Psalms that faithful Jews sang during the week leading up to Passover. Yet they were thinking military takeover and completely missed the point of the stone rejected becoming the cornerstone.

I’d never thought about why Peter denied Jesus. Actually, I never really thought about his motives at all. It was just something he did in the moment when abruptly confronted by people who had seen him with Jesus. But maybe Peter had reasons?

According to what I learned tonight, perhaps Peter had been disappointed in the reality of the Messiah versus his own expectations. When the anticipated overthrow of Rome didn’t begin, he decided he was done being a disciple. Hence the denial.

In a way, Peter was rejecting the stone that became the cornerstone. Ironically, Peter’s name means rock, yet he was anything but during those crucial moments after the arrest of Jesus. The only difference between Peter and Judas was that Judas showed only remorse while Peter displayed true repentance.

And it could have been me. In fact, it has been me or any number of us. How many times have we been anonymous rather than bold with our faith? How many times has it been easier to fade into the background or go with the flow rather than stand up for what we believe?

I love that later Jesus brings Peter back to that moment in the most loving way possible. For every time Peter denied Jesus, Jesus asks “Do you love me?” giving Peter a chance to affirm his faith. All in front of the same kind of coal fire where Peter had first denied Christ. I’d never thought about all those similarities before.

The same Peter who was always putting his foot in his mouth and later denying Christ became one of the most outspoken leaders of the faith. All because Jesus didn’t quit on him when He very well could have. Remember that the next time you fail. God’s love is still for you. The goal is not condemnation but restoration.

Face Like Flint

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“The heart of salvation is the Cross of Christ. The reason salvation is so easy to obtain is that it cost God so much. The Cross is the place where God and sinful man merged with a tremendous collision and where the way to life was opened. But all the cost and pain of the collision was absorbed by the heart of God” (Oswald Chambers).

I was blessed to be able to watch episodes 1 and 2 of The Chosen Season 5 in theaters. So far, it’s set during the Lord’s Supper with flashbacks to events earlier in the last week of Jesus’ ministry and life. I was able to more fully appreciate the totality of the weight that was on Jesus during these last days. In fact, you might even say that the weight of the world was on His shoulders.

He saw lost and hurting people. He saw misguided and corrupt religious leaders not only not helping people find salvation, but at times actively hindering people from doing so. He saw a temple that had become a market where money mattered over worship and where the house of prayer had become a den of thieves.

Jonathan Roumie portrayed all the inner turmoil that Jesus went through. Sometimes in movies about the Christ, I feel like the divine part gets played up at the expense of the humanity, and Jesus can come across as divinely disinterested and maybe a little bored. But this series has brought Jesus down to earth by emphasizing His humanness but not at the expense of his divine nature.

I remembered as I witness the emotions of Jesus during these first two episodes that Jesus was not called the Man of Sorrows for no reason. It wasn’t a catchy title. Jesus’ heart really did break over the lostness of the world He encountered — first, metaphorically during three years of ministry then literally on the cross when the spear pierced His side.

I can’t wait for the next episodes. And also, I’m dreading these next few scenes a bit. I know where this is heading. It’s not the rom-com portion of the program. In the next few days, we have betrayal, arrest, false trial, execution and death. All leading up to Good Friday. All leading up to Easter Sunday. But the good news is that as the old sermon said, it may be Friday, but Sunday’s comin’.

More than ever, I really can’t wait for that Sunday to get here.

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).

Maundy Thursday & Beyond

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“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.

Silent Wednesday

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I learned something new today. Apparently, today is significant in holy week. This is Silent Wednesday, preceding Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. From what I understand, there’s no recorded activity from this day in any of the gospels.

In my own life, I’ve learned that silence can be good. I need a break periodically from the noise. I need to create margins to hear God’s voice, and rarely will God talk over the other voices that demand my attention throughout the day.

But what if the silence is from God? What if I don’t hear anything when I listen for His voice? What then?

Do I trust in God? Do I lean into everything I’ve learned about God’s nature and character and activity up to this point? Do I choose to believe what I know about God instead of what I think or what I feel?

I see that throughout the gospels, Jesus told the disciples exactly what was about to happen. He explicitly told them all of what He was about to undergo and how it would be the end of His life. But He also said that He would rise again in three days.

But the disciples understood none of it. They didn’t get it.

Maybe the silence of God is for my benefit. Maybe I’m not ready to receive the next revelation or to know the next part of God’s plan. Maybe God is waiting on me to obey what I already know before He reveals more.

We get the benefit of history, so we know what’s coming next. Tomorrow is the day Jesus was betrayed by one of His own and handed over to the Jewish leaders. Friday is when they and the Romans put Him up on the cross with the intent to kill Him slowly. But also we know that no one took Jesus’ life from Him, but He willingly gave it up for us that we might live.

So today we remember. We reflect. We rest in the promise not only of the cross but also of the empty tomb. We can trust in a silent God. On a cellar wall in Cologne, Germany, Jews who were hiding from the Nazis wrote these words: ““I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. I believe in love even when feeling it not. I believe in God even when he is silent.”

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.

Holy Saturday

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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” (The Book of Common Prayer).

According to weather reports, tomorrow will be a wet soggy mess. And it’s also Easter Sunday. Too bad the weather couldn’t have carried over from today with its perfect temperatures and blue skies.

Still, the point of Sunday isn’t the weather but an empty tomb. Jesus may well be the only figure in history to have borrowed a tomb. He really only needed it for Saturday.

It’s true that Jesus is alive and it’s also true that He’s coming back to take His followers with Him and to rescue and redeem a fallen creation.

That Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday is a sort of in-between day, coming in between the crucifixion and the resurrection. Right now, it feels a lot like living in the in-between, looking back on the incarnation and eagerly awaiting the Second Coming.

The hope is that just as surely as Jesus walked out of the tomb on that Sunday morning, He will return, just as real and just as alive.

Sure, there will be easter bunnies and chocolate and easter egg hunts. I don’t have a problem with all that. I only need to remember that above all that reigns the living and breathing Jesus. And that makes even a wet and rainy mess of a day better.

 

 

 

Good Friday 2017

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“But thank God the crucifixion was not the last act in that great and powerful drama,” King preached. “There is another act. And it is something that we sing out and cry and ring out today. Thank God a day came when Good Friday had to pass” (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)

“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).

“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone but in every leaf of springtime” (Martin Luther).

Why is today called Good Friday? What’s so great about Jesus being tortured to death for a crime He didn’t commit? Why does it still matter nearly 2,000 years later?

It seems weird to call the day of Jesus’ crucifixion Good Friday, but when you look at it with Easter Sunday in mind, it makes a lot more sense.

If all you had was Good Friday with no resurrection, then it’s a very Tragic Friday. We should all stay home on Sunday and live however we want. Get stoned, get drunk, get laid, do whatever because none of it matters if Jesus is still in that tomb.

But God raised Jesus from the dead. He walked out of the tomb two days later and everything changed. Absolutely everything. That’s what makes it good.

So much of what happens in our lives will only make sense in reverse. When God promises to work all things together for our good, we often can only see that good not looking ahead or in the midst of it, but looking back on it. We see then how God orchestrated every moment perfectly to lead us where we are now, the best possible outcome.