spirituality

Easter Monday

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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).

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.”

Last Room in the Inn of the Season

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I always get a little sad at the end of the Room in the Inn season. I know I will miss seeing all the people until we kick off the new season in November. More than anything, my head is still spinning from how fast these last five months have flown by.

This year I got to teach more in the Bible study. I saw more of the homeless men showing up to hear God’s word taught and really lean in to learning about God’s way of living. Plus, I love seeing the faithfulness of those core volunteers who have been with the ministry for such a long time.

I can’t remember exactly, but I think a friend named Brad Johnson told me about this ministry and invited me to check it out way back in 2012, give or take a year or two. I know it’s been a minute or two ago. That was when I really saw the impact of Room in the Inn to give people a warm place to spend the night and a good meal and a hot shower.

I’ve heard stories of God’s faithfulness in the lives of these men and how they still trust in Jesus in spite of all the hardships of being homeless. I’ve seen homeless men who know the Bible and can quote verses way better than I can.

I see homelessness less and less as a stigma and more of a “there but by the grace of God go I” kind of thing. For some it’s a choice, but for others it’s simply a bad financial break or the loss of a job or an unexpected medical expense.

I remember a book I read that basically said that in a sense we’re all homeless because this world we’re living in isn’t really home. We’re following Jesus as best we can on our way to our real forever home. Room in the Inn is a good reminder of that.

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.

Longing for Simpler Times

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I’ve been in a nostalgic mood a lot lately, thinking about people who have passed and remembering places like my grandmother’s house on Dee Road in Memphis. Sometimes I have a longing to go back to those people and moments that is so strong that it feels overwhelming.

Maybe it’s because I’m really wanting to go back to when times were simpler. At least they were for me. I didn’t have so many cares or concerns. I knew my parents loved me and would take care of me. I knew my family loved me and watched out for me.

I see now that the times weren’t necessarily simpler, but my life was simpler. Because my parents did their job, I didn’t have to grow up carrying the proverbial weight of the world, dealing with issues beyond my years. I could be a kid, safe and secure from all alarms.

I do think the world seemed less chaotic than it does now. Maybe that was because of the absence of 24-hour news channels constantly telling me how bad the world is. Maybe it’s because I was blissfully unaware of so much of the evil around me. Maybe it’s just that the world is trending down as we get closer to Jesus’ return.

I do know that the Jesus I asked into my heart when I was little is the same one who is with me now. His promises are the same. His presence with me is the same, though I am probably more aware of it — and my need of it. I am just as loved and cared for and cherished and secure as I was back then because it was really Jesus all along who was my protector and provider.

So maybe those places and people I miss were glimpses of something greater that I will only ever fully realize in heaven. Those were like the appetizer before a really great feast. My best days aren’t behind me — they’re ahead and coming soon.

More 90s CCM Goodness

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I’ve been listening to a podcast series by Andy Chrisman lately. Or more accurately, I’ve been watching Youtube videos of a podcast series by Andy Christman. They’re all centered around the Christian music industry and a lot of the stories revolve around 90s CCM.

To me, the 90s were the best decade for Christian music. There was such a diversity of talent and sounds that invaded radio stations all over the country. And that was back when radio stations had actual playlists of more than 15 songs.

For me to hear any Christian song from the 90s will take me back to the moment when I first heard it. Most likely, I can tell you the artist, the song and even the album title. I’d probably be really good at trivia centered around 80s and 90s Christian music.

But hearing the stories behind the songs from artists like 4Him and Russ Taff just makes their message more meaningful. To hear the struggles and hardships that the artists went through makes me appreciate them all the more. It also makes me want to pump up the volume on some 90s CCM at some point in the very near future.

I’m thankful that Christian music still exists. In some ways, it’s bigger than it’s ever been with a wider reach and more people buying albums and going to concerts. But compared to the rich variety of the 90s, there’s a bit of a sameness to a lot of what I hear currently. And I’m sure you could ask any Christian artist around today, and they’d probably say their inspiration came from something out of the 90s. And those from the 90s would probably point to artists in the 70s for inspiration (but that’s a discussion for another day).

I am thankful that I had all that great music to be a part of the formation and shaping of who I am today and what I believe. I’m thankful for the solid lyrics that will still come to mind to this day whenever I think of a particular artist. I’m thankful that so much of 90s CCM is part of the soundtrack to my life.

Praying for Your Enemies

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“The practical problem about charity (in our prayers) is very hard work, isn’t it? When you pray for Hitler & Stalin, how do you actually teach yourself to make the prayer real? The two things that help me are (a) A continual grasp of the idea that one is only joining one’s feeble little voice to the perpetual intercession of Christ, who died for those very men (b) A recollection, as firm as one can make it, of all one’s own cruelty wh. might have blossomed, under different conditions, into something terrible. You and I are not, at bottom, so different from these ghastly creatures” (C. S. Lewis, Letters of C. S. Lewis).

It’s one thing to pray for people who are diametrically opposed to you in their beliefs and lifestyle. It’s quite another to pray for those who are actively seeking to do you harm. I think the latter is what Jesus meant when He said to pray for your enemies.

I don’t think I could do that. At least, I know that in my own strength, I couldn’t. Only the power of the risen Christ dwelling in me could possibly love and pray for my enemies as they attack me. I believe that kind of supernatural power only comes in time of need, like it did for the disciple Stephen while he was being stoned to death with the approval of Saul. And later, it came to Saul, who now went by Paul, as he faced multiple attacks over proclaiming the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Ultimately, Jesus demonstrated praying for and loving your enemies best when He cried out to God, “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they’re doing” as they were in the very act of murdering Him on the cross.

When I see that I am fundamentally no different than my enemies, it helps me to love them better. It helps me to see how much grace it took to save me when I’m not nearly as nice and good on my own as I had thought. It makes me that much more grateful to Jesus for saving me from me, and makes me less capable of hating anyone else.