Palm Sunday

“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.

The Peace of Christ

“‘I give you MY peace’ John 14:27. Jesus, thank you for a peace that doesn’t just prepare us to die well, but also to live free. The peace of no condemnation and your full delight. The peace of knowing you’re working in all things for our good” (Scotty Smith).

I’m thankful that the peace of Christ isn’t based on my ideas of what peace should look and feel like.

My idea of peace is no conflict, no discomforts, no pain, no trials. If I had my way, I’d go from ease to ease, from comfort to comfort, and never grow up. Jesus’ way isn’t about making me suffer simply for the sake of suffering, but in my trials and tribulations I can 1) become more like Jesus, and 2) identify with Jesus in His own sufferings (which were way worse than mine will ever be).

Peace isn’t the absence of storms, but being sheltered in the midst of those storms. As the old song says, sometimes Jesus calms the storm, but often He comforts His child in the storm.

Peace is ultimately an inner solitude that nothing from the outside can shake, a confidence of faith that no outside crisis can kill, and a trust that says, “Even if He kills me, I will still keep trusting” (adapted from Job 13:15).

Grant us peace tonight that passes all our human understanding and guards our hearts and leads us to adoration of You, O Lord.

Known by the Scars

I had one of those wow moments when I was flipping channels recently. I came across a discussion group involving Ann Voskamp, Sheila Walsh, and a few others. One of them said that so many of us base our identity on the wounds that others have inflicted on us rather than on the wounds that Jesus bore for us. That was a WOW moment that left me Without Words.

I think it’s telling that in one miracle, Jesus asks a paralytic if he wants to be well. You would think it would be a Captain Obvious question with the inevitable answer of YES, but then so many of us have built so much of our identities around our pain and our hurt that we wouldn’t have anything left if our affliction were suddenly taken away.

A better way is to be identified with the Suffering Servant who was wounded for our transgressions, who bore scars on His hands, feet and side from taking the punishment that we deserved on Himself. This is the Jesus who still bears those scars even in Heaven.

All of us will be called at some point to suffer for the cause of Christ. Some will suffer physically. Some even to the point of death. One of the greatest honors I can think of is to bear wounds and scars from following Jesus faithfully through opposition, trials, suffering, and pain. Maybe too some of us will bear scars in heaven.

I do know for sure that Jesus was willing to lay down His life for each and every one of us. Your and my identity rests in the fact that God so loved us that He gave His only Son, Jesus, so that we should not be lost but have real, abundant, and eternal life in and with God. We are no longer strangers and aliens, outcasts with no hope or future but children of God, the Bride of Christ, and beloved.

Befriending Your Pain

Note: this was originally posted on October 10, 2021:

“I want to say to you that most of our brokenness cannot be simply taken away. It’s there. And the deepest pain that you and I suffer is often the pain that stays with us all our lives. It cannot be simply solved, fixed, done away with. . . . What are we then told to do with that pain, with that brokenness, that anguish, that agony that continually rises up in our heart? We are called to embrace it, to befriend it. To not just push it away . . . to walk right over it, to ignore it. No, to embrace it, to befriend it, and say that is my pain and I claim my pain as the way God is willing to show me his love” (Henri Nouwen).

C. S. Lewis said that God speaks to us through our pain. Oftentimes, pain is the only way for God to get our attention, distracted as we are by our pleasures and pursuits. Living in a beautiful but broken world, it’s not hard to find pain. God simply uses that pain to speak to us, to gently remind us that He is near, to mold us into something closer to His likeness.

I’m Still Here

“You’re not a failure until you stop trying. If you have no other testimony you have this one: ‘I’m still here'” (Joyce Meyer).

Winston Churchill once said that success is never final and failure is never fatal, but it is the courage to continue that counts. Aside from some very impressive alliteration, there’s some good truth here.

So hooray for all of you who made it out of bed this morning when you felt an overwhelming desire to sleep in and give up on the day.

Hooray for all of you who adhere to the old motto that faith is believing when common sense tells you not to, or as the author of Hebrews puts it, it’s the “assurance of things you have hoped for, the absolute conviction that there are realities you’ve never seen (Hebrews 11:1, The Voice).

Hooray for those who doggedly adhere to that faith through trials and doubts and who have never given up on God because they know God has never given up on them.

Hooray for those who still dream after so many previous dreams have been dashed to pieces and who keep longing after their desires have been countlessly delayed and denied.

Hooray for those who persevere in the midst of pain and suffering while wearing a smile through it all.

Hooray for those whose only victory today might be the declaration “I’m still here.”

Not only will your endurance lead to a reward, you are leaving a legacy to those who follow to not give up.

After all, Advent is all about how waiting on God’s best is always always worth it.

 

What to Do in Light of Recent Events

Alton Sterling. Philando Castile. Brent Thompson. Patrick Zamarripa. Michael Krol.  Lorne Ahrens. Mike Smith.

These are the names of the men who died recently. They were all human beings, created in the image of God. They were all people that Jesus bled and died for. That gives each one of them great worth and should merit our grief at their passing.

Based on what I heard in a sermon today, this is what I believe we should do in light of these recent tragic events.

  1. Pray. Pray a lot. I don’t mean the polite and genteel kind of praying that you do before meals or in Sunday School. I mean the kind where you come boldly before the throne of grace with sighs and groans and tears of intercession. Pray like the life of the nation depended on it, because it very well may.
  2. Don’t jump to conclusions without knowing all the facts. It’s typical to assume that a) anyone shot by a police officer must automatically be a criminal and a thug in the very act of committing a heinous crime or b) that any police officer who shots anyone of color must automatically be a racist. The mistake Job’s friends made was trying to figure out who to blame instead of trying to ease the pain of Job’s suffering.
  3. The best thing Job’s friends did throughout the story was what they did first. They sat down in silence with their friend in his grief and pain. They didn’t offer words. They offered their presence. Maybe more than all our explanations or arguments what people need from us is our comforting presence, to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice.
  4. Confess that while we may not be racists, that’s not enough. Too many of us watch in silence and do nothing in the face of great evil. Our silence often equates to our consent of the evil. We must repent of a long history of impeding the quest for racial equality and harmony. We must do better to love our neighbors who don’t look and speak and act like us.

I must confess that I have too often rushed to hasty judgment instead of rushing to my knees in prayer. I confess that I have harbored prejudicial thoughts toward those different than I. I confess that I was one of the ones who gave consent to evil by my silence rather than speaking out against the wrong.

Lord, forgive us all. Lord, make us one as you are One. Lord, help us to love our neighbors and ourselves as you have loved us.

Amen.

 

Thoughts on the Book of Jeremiah

In my quest to read through the Bible in a year (again), I’ve made it to Jeremiah. I confess that the prophetic section of the Old Testament can be hard to read at times — I see time and time again where God’s patience runs out as the Israelites have abandoned Him and chased after other gods for so long.

I also see hope. I love the parts where God speaks of restoring His children to their land and to their former glory. Even though they deserve annihilation because of all their philandering and idolatry, God has promised after a time to bring them back to their home.

That gives me great hope. It means that the worst part of your story is never the last part. The part where the darkness seems never-ending and where hope seems so far away is not the last chapter. The ending is so much better.

Elisabeth Elliot once said that God’s story never ends with ashes. It never ends in exile and despait. Death and destruction do not have the last word. Neither does evil.

The terrorists do not win in the end. Fear and violence will one day be forever past tense. Love and mercy will be the currency of the new world order.

I truly believe in my heart of hearts that one day Jesus will come back and set everything right again. What got derailed in Eden will finally be fully and forever realized.

There’s a beautiful verse that speaks about how overjoyed the people will be when they see Jerusalem restored. It will be like dreaming with your eyes wide open, too good to be true yet still very much true.

The best part (to me) will be that all the pain and suffering that seems now like it will never end will one day seem light and momentary compared to the glory and joy that’s coming. It won’t even begin to compare.

All that from one little book in the Bible.

 

 

Witness to Your Life

Sometimes, the most powerful impact we can have over someone’s life is a silent one. There are no words necessary.

Sometimes there is nothing more meaningful than to look at someone as if to say, “I see you. You are not alone. You are not forgotten. I am a witness to the fact of your existence and your life is not in vain.”

So many are hungry for such a look. They so desperately need to know that somebody — anybody– sees them in all their hurt and despair. They want answers and a way out, but just as much they want at least one person to see their struggle. Even more than a kind word, a smile at just the right time can be the difference between life and death, pressing on and giving up.

I’m comforted to know that there is never a moment when God doesn’t see me. Not in the sense of waiting for my transgression to pounce on me in vengeful wrath, but in the sense of a loving Father who wants to guide His child safely through.

There is nothing I can experience that God in Jesus did not also live through. There is no temptation, no struggle, no pain that He isn’t familiar with, and thus there is no time and place where He won’t provide a way through or a way out.

Maybe this week take time to give a smile to someone you pass in the hall or on the street. Maybe offer a greeting. You never know the power of those kind words that come out of really seeing and acknowledging someone as one of God’s children.

Once you understand the Father’s heart toward you, you begin to live out of the overflow of unconditional love and acceptance and there is enough love to pass around to someone else who needs it as badly as you.

 

Today’s Word for the Day– Suffering

“There’s far more to this life than trusting in Christ. There’s also suffering for him. And the suffering is as much a gift as the trusting. You’re involved in the same kind of struggle you saw me go through, on which you are now getting an updated report in this letter” (Phil. 1:29-30).

Imagine Mr. Fred Rogers in his sweater and sneakers saying something along these lines: Boys and girls, today’s word for the day is suffering.  Can you say suffering? Suh-fer-ring.

Most of the time, I am all about the suffering- avoidance mode. I likes my comfort. I don’t likes to suffer in the least.

I think that what drives most of the consumer market is comfort and convenience. That seems to be the American way, especially in American churches.

Still, the American comfortable middle-class Christianity is an anomaly. For most of the world, to proclaim Christ as Lord is to invite suffering. It’s not a matter of if, but when.

If I’m honest, when I read that suffering is a gift, my first thought is where to go to exchange it for something more comfortable and convenient.

But that’s where you and I find God. C. S. Lewis said that God speaks through our pleasures but shouts to us in our pain. Something about suffering clarifies our perspective and gives us better eyes to see God with.

Also, there is no better testimony than seeing someone willing to sacrifice for their faith. Anyone can believe in something that benefits them tangibly, but it’s quite another when you give up family, houses, and land for what you believe. Jesus Himself said that those people would be rewarded a thousand-times over for what they lose, but the loss is still very much present and real.

Christians all over the world are literally laying down their lives for the Gospel. I believe that the day is coming soon when believers in America will face the choice of denying Christ or death. Maybe not in my lifetime, but soon enough.

Will you and I choose suffering to advance the Gospel? Will we choose the painful path if it means that Jesus is glorified in us?

I pray our answer to both these questions is a resounding YES.

 

Glory’s Just Around the Corner

“Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner” (1 Peter 4:12-13, The Message).

Glory’s just around the corner. I love that.

All that you’re going through, all the heartache and pain, seems like it will never end. You feel like nothing will ever get better, that everything will go on just as it has been.

Remember that Paul calls it light and momentary compared to the eternal weight of glory that’s coming. Whatever it is, it won’t last forever. But the glory will.

That’s a good reason to never give up. You don’t know how close you are to your breakthrough. It may be closer than you  think. It may even literally be around the next corner.

I might sound like a broken record, but I feel in my spirit that some of you out there are tempted to quit. Some of you are about to give up. Don’t.

Jesus didn’t quit. He more than anyone else had the best reason to give up. He knew what He was facing and what it would cost in blood, sweat, and tears. But He persevered. He kept going.

He knew that even death by torture was a light and momentary affliction compared to the joy and glory that would come after. Not just His joy and glory, but ours, too.

It’s all about taking it 24 hours at a time. Sometimes, it’s about one deep breath at a time, if that’s all you can do.

One day, you will look back and say that it was all worth it. Even the very worst parts were worth it to get to the glory.