victory

Devoted to Prayer

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“Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2, TLV).

The Oxford definition of the word devote means “give all or a large part of one’s time or resources to (a person, activity, or cause).”

Does that describe your prayer life? I can say with all honesty (and some shame) that it does not describe mine. I pray when it’s convenient or when I just so happen to remember to pray. I’ve been known to tell people I will pray for them and then forget moments later and never actually pray for them.

But the life of a true disciple is marked by prayer. I’m no believer in a health and wealth prosperity gospel but I believe that spiritual breakthroughs can come from seasons of devoted prayer. Not five minutes here and five minutes there but intentional time set aside for daily prayer.

I read about those spiritual heroes who had so much to do that they couldn’t not spend two hours in the morning before their day got started. I probably couldn’t stay focused for 15 minutes, much less two whole hours.

But I think that comes with discipline. That comes with when your desire for prayer is greater than your desire for anything else you could be doing at that moment. Sometimes, it comes in times of great desperation. Sometimes, it comes with spiritual euphoria.

I think the lack of prayer shows in the lives of most believers. We’re not prepared for spiritual warfare. We’re not ready to have gospel conversations with the people around us. Many times, our lives don’t look very different from the lives of nonbelievers around us.

But the good news is that it’s never too late to start and best of all, God loves to hear from His children at any time, no matter for how long or for how well or poorly we think we’re praying. He wants to hear from us much more than we want to speak with Him.

Lord, give us hearts devoted to prayer. Make us true prayer warriors whose lives flow out of victories gained by going to the Father in the secret places. Amen.

To Those Who Grieve

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“Look upon each of us now. There are so many families that have been bereaved, that we pray for all. You take away a mother here; you take away a husband there; you remove a child there; you are smiting on the right hand and on the left. We would kiss the rod and the hand that wields it, but we pray that the richest consolation may be given, especially to those who suffer much.
We pray that richer consolation than usual may be given where it is most required. Sanctify their bereavements. May the whole of the flock feel that when the Shepherd is taking away one after another, it is time for us to be ready for his coming.
Amen” (Charles Spurgeon).

Right now, I’m thinking about Erika Kirk, the widow of recently assassinated Charlie Kirk, who spoke the words “I forgive him” about the person who pulled the trigger and prematurely ended Charlie’s life. That’s not a natural response to loss. That can only happen under the power of the Holy Spirit and in someone whose heart is ruled by the peace of Christ.

There’s something so unnatural about death. It wasn’t in the original design, but sin entered the world and brought death and decay with it. So now we live in a world where life is temporary and fleeting. But we have the hope and promise of the resurrection.

Because Jesus was dead and is alive forevermore, so can we. We can face death with the knowledge that it is a defeated foe and won’t have the final say. We can grieve the ones we love with hope because we know that they currently more alive than ever but have merely changed their address (as the late Billy Graham once said).

I love the illustration about a man told a famous doctor that he was afraid of dying. The doctor responded by pointing to the office door where they both could hear a scratching sound and a whining voice behind it. Once the doctor opened the door, his dog came joyfully rushing in to embrace his master. The doctor said that the dog knew nothing about the office before he entered — only that his master was there.

And so it is with heaven. We know snippets. We don’t know a lot of details. We may not know much about what happens when we die. We just know that our Master is there. And that is enough to give us joy in the midst of our fear. We can rest in the assurance that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. What we know see dimly through eyes of mustard seed faith we will see clearly by sight one day. And Jesus will be there. That’s enough.

God Has Overcome the World

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“An optimist says, ‘The war will be over; your wounds will be healed; the depression will go away; all will be better soon.’ The optimist may be right, but unfortunately he or she may be wrong. For none of us can control our circumstances.

No, hope does not come from positive predictions about the state of the world anymore than does faith. Nor does hope depend on the ups and downs of our life’s particulars. Hope, rather, has to do with God. We have hope and joy in our faith because we believe that, while the world in which we live is shrouded in darkness, God has overcome the world… We follow One who is not limited or defeated by the world’s sufferings” (Henri Nouwen).

Not everything bad will be fixed in this lifetime. Not every wrong will be made right. I think the Apostle Paul said something like if we have hope only for this life, we are to be pitied above all. If this is all there is, then you might as well become a cynic. You might as well not care about anything and live for today.

But this is not all there is, thank God. There is so much more. Your best life is not now, but the best is yet to come. We believe that God has overcome the world. That’s the victory that fuels our faith. That’s the hope we hold on to in the midst of deep heartache. That’s the reason we can sing in the middle of the storms and sorrows of this world.

The older I get, the more I’m ready for Jesus to come back and make that victory final. I’m so ready for evil to be defeated once and for all. I love that it’s not a matter of if but when. The victory is sure. God has overcome!

The Greater Light of the Ancient Flame

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“Give Santa Claus a place at Christmas, so long as it is not the highest place. Sing songs about flying reindeer, but let them fly lower than the angels. Set cookies and milk out on Christmas Eve, but remember that flour and sugar and cream are of lesser value than gold and frankincense and myrrh. String colored lights on every house, hang them from every tree, so long as they are lesser lights, and the greater light of the ancient flame burns brighter still” (Winter Fire: Christmas with G. K. Chesterton, Ryan Whitaker Smith).

As I’m learning, it doesn’t have to be either/or when it comes to Santa Clause or Jesus Christ, the North Pole or Bethlehem. Just as long as you keep the star of Bethlehem that shone over the place where Jesus lay in the manger over the star on your tree, you can celebrate both. At least, that’s my understanding.

What Santa represents is the spirit of giving and generosity which finds its ultimate fulfillment in the gift of Emmanuel, God with us. What the lights and decorations represent is joy, which stands on the final victory of Jesus at the cross. Every Christmas tradition points to the original Christmas story, which always points to Jesus.

And I still think the best way to celebrate Christmas is over 12 days instead of just one. But I won’t hold my breath. I won’t get upset when everybody takes down all the reminders of Christmas by the first of the new year, because I know that the real Christmas is what lives in my heart, and nothing can ever take that away.

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).

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.

I’m Still Here

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“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.

 

Four Gardens

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I heard something new today, so I can’t take credit for any of what follows. It all involves four gardens.

The first garden was the Garden of Eden where it all went horribly wrong for all of us. Adam and Eve both ate of that dratted fruit. It doesn’t matter what kind of fruit it was or who ate first. The simple fact that out of every tree in that garden (and there must have been plenty), they chose the one tree God asked them not to eat from.

We’ve been like that ever since. Ever see a “Don’t step on the grass” sign? What’s the first impulse you have when you see that? I rest my case.

The second garden was the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus chose the cross. I know it was His destiny from the beginning and He knew all along that Calvary was His destination, but here is where the temptation to bail was strongest and here is where Jesus prevailed against such a temptation.

The third garden was the Garden of the Tomb. When Mary first saw Jesus, she thought He was the gardener. So it follows there was a garden. Here is where everything wrong was made right. Here is where Jesus’ victory was confirmed and forever validated.

The final garden is in Revelation 22. There you find a very familiar tree, the tree of life, planted by a river and located in the City of God. Here instead of a forbidding commandment is an invitation to come and partake.

Oh, and there’s the whole fruit of the Spirit thing, too.

I love how God doesn’t miss any details. Everything that was lost in the first garden gets found in the last one. Nothing that is good and pure and true is ever truly lost, but God finds a way to redeem it back.

Peace and Courage and All That Other Stuff

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“I have told you all this so that in me you may find peace. In this world you will have trouble. But courage! The victory is mine; I have conquered the world” (Jesus, John 16:33).

Some days it’s easier to believe these words than others. Some days it’s easier to feel that peace of Christ surrounding you and holding you together.

Some days fear wins. Some days you feel overwhelmed and stressed and defeated. You wonder where the peace has gone or if it will ever come back.

The peace never leaves. You may not always tangibly feel it all the time, but it’s there. How do I know that? Because Jesus promised that His peace would remain.

That’s what I’m holding on to these days.  That peace of Christ that passes all understanding, that passes what I can comprehend of my present situation, that stands when I can’t.

It’s like in Voyage of the Dawn Treader when Aslan whispers. “Courage, dear heart,” to Lucy. It says afterwards that she felt a very little bit better. Not a lot. She and the ship weren’t immediately delivered from the darkness, but they began to see a way out on the horizon.

Maybe that’s what it is. Peace is the ultimate knowledge that no matter how bad things are now, God will work all these things out for the best possible outcome. Everything will be fine in the end, as the movie quote goes, and if it’s not fine, it’s not the end.

I don’t necessarily think that peace always comes with a calmness. Sometimes, you can have those butterflies in your stomach, that gnawing in your belly, and still have peace. In the same way, just because you don’t feel the nearness of Jesus doesn’t mean He’s not there.

So that’s where I am, craving that peace and finding it in the unlikeliest of times and places. God is good like that.

 

Why I Love the Psalms

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Here’s my update on my Bible reading. I’m up to Psalm 127, which is probably ahead of the pace I need to get through the Bible in a year, but I’m okay with that.

I’m reminded of why I love the Psalms so much. Yes, there’s a lot of “praise the Lord” and “hallelujah” verses, but there’s also plenty of “Where are you, God” verses. There are stories of both victory and defeat, joy and sorrow, health and illness, strength and weaknesses. In other words, it runs the gamut of human experience.

I love the honesty. I used to feel like David, or whoever else happened to write the particular Psalm I was reading, was boasting about how perfect and obedient he was. Now I think I see it as a man who feels like he’s giving everything he’s got to do the right thing.

I see that life is hard, bad things happen, and sometimes the bad guys get the upperhand. Still, the last word is always how the loyal, steadfast love and faithful God (or the Eternal One, as my translation puts it) never ceases.

That’s a good reminder for anyone going through struggles and pain and loss. God’s faithfulness never runs out. His love never lets up. It always finds us and brings us back to His heart and one day will lead us home.

To paraphrase an old saying, victory is never final and failure is never fatal. It is trust in the strong arms of God that wins out in the end.