The Staff of Life

Is there anything better than homemade bread fresh from the oven spread with real butter melting on contact? Here’s a hint. No.

I volunteered to bring the bread to our extended family’s Resurrection Day feast following church services a few days from now. I decided to practice this time. One time I depended on the recipe of an old friend that left out the amount of flour. How off could I guess? Enough is as good a word as any. Those were some heavy rolls. Good times.

I pulled a cookbook from my shelves in which the authors breathlessly extol the virtues of artisan bread. They had me at “bread is better than cake”. I began by making the master recipe which is then used to make artisan bread in 5 minutes a day. It’s not really 5 minutes. You grab as much dough as you want to use from the master recipe, shape it, and let it rise before you bake it at 450. It was delicious!

The next day, since I didn’t see a recipe in the book for plain ol’ rolls, I guessed (old habits die hard). The rolls were also very good. I might just have a winner!

This is a time of year when the importance of bread is front and center. We recall it during Communion, what is often called The Last Supper, which was actually a Passover meal. Jesus had celebrated that meal all of his life, and it was during that meal that Jesus took the unleavened bread, thanked God for it, broke it, and shared it. He said, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” It was a pretty extreme statement, I’ll grant you; but Jesus was making a connection for them. And us. The bread eaten was originally to help recall the Israelites’ hurried escape from captivity. I can think of a few things I’d like to escape from just now. I bet you can, too. But that last meal showed that what was going to happen was bigger even than that. Much bigger. Much, much, much.

Another time Jesus said, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Imagine never being hungry or thirsty. Never! He is spirit food. No, I’m not speaking of cannibalism. Satanists do that – probably some folks you’d recognize on TV, for instance. No, I’m speaking of Jesus voluntarily laying down His life as a sacrifice in order to redeem us from hell and the sin that leads us there. Do we understand how precious that was? Really?

Bread. It’s life-giving in oh so many ways; not just physically. And it’s available world-wide! But it’s important to use the master recipe in order to get the result you’re hoping for. You cover it and put it in a dark place where it rises, and the result is amazing.

Here’s a hint. It’s not really about bread. It’s about Jesus.

Healthy Bread in Five Minutes a Day by Jeff Hertzberg, MD, and Zoe Francois, Thomas Dunne Books of St. Martin’s Press, c 2009; Scripture: Luke 22:19; John 6:35

A Last Look At The Upper Room

It was clean except for one – no, two things. They were unobtrusive, but caught her eye. On the floor near the wall lay a towel; a muddy towel, now dried. And near it sat a basin of dirty water. Strange things left in such a clean room.

She wandered over to the table. She’d heard the stories. You couldn’t live here and not have heard about the man who said things so remarkable they sent shivers down your spine; who healed – healed! – lame people who hadn’t felt the earth beneath their feet for years, if ever; and who talked with anyone, not just the important or educated or honored. Oh yes, she’d heard. She, herself, had heard from her neighbor’s daughter’s friend about a woman caught in a situation that shouldn’t be spoken of and, instead of hurling accusations with the rest, he had asked some questions that had sent her accusers running. There was something very gratifying in that, though she couldn’t say exactly what.

She’d heard the rumors, too. He had said – reportedly, mind you – that “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father”. The Father. God! He’d actually said that! That comment right there did it for some people. It was a bridge too far. But others? Not so much. They’d stuck with him. They believed it was true.

And herself? Hmmm. She wasn’t sure. But those healings – you couldn’t deny them. Or the creepy guy in the tombs who was freed from demon-possession. Really. Who does that? Or the huge storm that was stilled in an instant. Seriously.

And now the worst. Because whether you believed him or not, he hadn’t done anything deserving a crucifixion. Those were the whispers spreading through the city. The ones who were offended by his defense of unremarkable, diseased people were crowding together. It’s the way mobs were. And others joined in, of course, because they did whatever anyone else did. They thought whatever anyone else thought. It was almost like they didn’t know they could act or think for themselves.

A loud sound startled her. As it grew louder, she ran to the window and looked out. Oh no! The man! No! NO! Soldiers surrounded him. One of them flicked a whip his way every once in awhile for his own amusement. The man was carrying a cross – those heavy, dirty, terrible, tortuous things. As her breath caught in her throat, he glanced up at her for an instant. And in that instant, her doubt vanished.

Tears started slowly, then ran down her face as her body shuddered with heavy sobs. Why did some people blacken light with dark? Good with bad? What was the point? She wished she could fix it. She wished there was something she could do to chase away the hardened hearts and evil mobs. She wished she could drive them from the whole world, or, at least, from hers. From here. From the street the man with the cross was trudging down.

He was so good. Really good. And kind. And, as she thought about it, one of the purest souls she’d ever known – or at least known about. She harshly brushed her tears away.

Her eyes roamed the room in a last once-over. Ah. Here was a crumb on the table. Unleavened bread. How could she have missed it? Oh. And a drop of wine. She began to clear them with one swipe, hesitated, and placed them on the tip of her tongue instead. Then she picked up the towel and basin and walked out.

Image: jackson-david-8qudl9pDZJ0-unsplash.jpg; Scripture text: John 14:9 (on second thought, why don’t you read the whole chapter); Image: mads-schmidt-rasmussen-v0PWN7Z38ag-unsplash.jpg

Think Again

There is a desperation in the darkness; a kind of hopeless sadness. We – many of us – have experienced that place where our breath stops temporarily without our notice and gladness is far from our grasp. Where heartache melts into emptiness. Where questions have no answers and no words can express what hurt cannot speak. Happy memories are muted. Dreams dashed.

It is, perhaps, the place the disciples found themselves on that very dark day we call Good Friday. It had been a few glorious years of soaking in more wisdom and understanding than they had thought possible in a lifetime! Witnessing the delightful unbelievable! Hoping and planning for a revisitation – no, better – of the kingdom of David, Israel’s greatest king! And they were living it!

It all fell to pieces in a weekend. And here they were – together, because they couldn’t bear it alone and because he had taught them well. They were carrying on, but they were afraid and they were hiding. Jesus was crucified. What if they were next? And then.

Mary burst through the door talking so fast, they had trouble understanding her. But Peter and John were out the door like a shot. They were out of breath as they reached the tomb, the tomb with the heavy boulder rolled from the entrance. Mary couldn’t have done that. They, themselves, weren’t strong enough to do it. They peered inside, then stepped through the opening and their breath caught at the sight of folded grave clothes. And something more: no doubt it was an angel. He is not here. He is risen as He said. They heard the angel’s voice, but . . . expectations are funny things. They can blind you, if you let them. Mary’s claims rang in their minds as they fought back with logic. It couldn’t be.

But it was. Oh it was!

The world spins on its axis. Seasons arrive on a fixed schedule as do day and night. We know that when someone is very, very ill, there is little chance of recovery. When someone dies, there is none.

And yet. And yet, the God who set planets, moons, and stars in the heavens is the same God who is present with us. You think miracles are for children’s stories? Think again.

Image: zac-durant-_6HzPU9Hyfg-unsplash.jpg

 

Of All the Times for This to Happen

Of all the times for this to happen. Passover is my favorite holiday: a week of recalling God’s mercy on His enslaved people, envisioning the death angel examining the doorposts for lamb’s blood and passing over those who had it as their protection. And, of course, since it was close to that time, we remember about them escaping through a sea that God actually parted. A sea! Split! You might as well expect a boulder to break apart or a dead man to live again. It just doesn’t happen. And to top it off, the army chasing them got stuck. Run aground in the sea. It’s as hard to envision as – say – an evergreen growing in the desert. It can happen, sure; but it’s hardly likely. The Red Sea event can give you goosebumps if you close your eyes and imagine it.

We are painfully acquainted with the Roman method of torture and execution. Sometimes we see crosses planted along the road with criminals in various stages of dying hanging from them. It’s a form of torture for us, too, in a way. A reminder of who’s in charge and what could happen if you say or do the wrong thing. Pax Romana is peace at the point of a spear. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t say that in public. But I’m not the only one who thinks it.

Jesus was – well – he was perfect. He was funny and creative and compassionate and strong and smart and a deep-thinker. Perfect. He had a way of teaching us that made us feel like God was right there with us. He said that, you know. That he was God’s son. And some of us actually believed such an unbelievable claim. I would’ve followed that man to the ends of the earth.

And as his following was increasing exponentially, they pounced. Those Pharisees. Those law teachers. They paid one of the guys who were with him all of the time to turn him in. And that scum of the earth did it. For money. For MONEY. Jesus didn’t care about money. He cared about a larger than life mission. He wouldn’t have done something just for money. For love, maybe, but not money.

And now? He’s dead. They took him and gave him a bogus trial and whipped him and hanged him! On a cross! It was brutal. I won’t describe it. Some things are better unspoken. But I’ll see it for the rest of my days. I’ll dream it for the rest of my nights.

Passover: A lesson in obedience despite fear. A tutorial in trust. God’s amazing rescue plan. But now? Like I said. Of all the times for this to happen.

Images: fanpop.jpg; Pixabay-cc-cross-78000_640.jpg

Mission: Accomplished

A candle is burning somewhere tonight. It burns to signify a prayer. Or penance. Or the presence of Christ.

Throughout the world, churches burn, too. But unlike a candle, churches are ablaze for an opposite reason. They burn because of hatred of Christianity and the God of love. The true scale of religious violence is unknown, whether it is in Kenya, Turkey, Sudan, China, or France. Countless churches or Christian symbols are vandalized, defecated on, and torched every day. There is a creeping war against everything that symbolizes Christianity whether the attacks are on stone crosses, sacred statues, churches, cemeteries, Bibles, baptismal fonts or the people, themselves. Notre Dame was built in the shape of a cross. That cross was literally burning this week.

Why? Why is there destruction and hostility toward the church? It doesn’t need to puzzle us. When He walked among us, Jesus said, You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.

Jesus knew what would happen. He experienced it first-hand. Yet the God of love extends His mercy, even to the place of the cross. It is the cross – the battered, controversial, and despised cross – that still stands. Despite hateful intent or destruction or fire. And it is our Savior who died there we remember tonight.

Jesus left the glories of heaven to be born a man and experience the grittiness of a perfect life in an imperfect world. He learned and grew just as everyone must do. But when did He realize His mission would take him to the cross?

Luke 2:49 tells of Jesus’ parents searching for him in Jerusalem. They’d lost him! And when they finally found him, he responded not with tears but with a practical statement: I must be about my Father’s business. By that time, Jesus had read Isaiah’s prophecy: But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

Was he talking with the teachers at the temple about that? He kept reading. He kept thinking and contemplating. Despite the sad prophecy, He didn’t stop.

Rome was in power during Jesus’ life. When he saw Roman crosses along the road, was he considering His sacrifice then? When he learned carpentry from Joseph did they talk about how mangers and crosses were made?

When Jesus taught about entering through the narrow gate that leads to life and staying off the wide road of destruction did he know?  Or when he prayed alone, did he know? Whether He knew exactly what would happen by then or not, we see our Savior continuing to teach, continuing to spend time alone with God.

Clearly Jesus knew trouble would result in even some of the healing he did, because he sometimes instructed those healed to not tell anyone. He wanted to extend his time to call more sinners to repentance. He was on a rescue mission! It was a mission he would not abandon.

But when Jesus told his disciples about the temple being destroyed and raised again in 3 days, He most certainly knew what was coming. He knew of His impending suffering and sacrifice. Yet He didn’t back away from it.

When He set out for Jerusalem, He wasn’t the only one who’d figured it out. Peter tried to talk Him out of it. But Jesus was determined. He had a mission and He would complete it.

By the time what we call Palm Sunday arrived, Jesus rode through what He knew would be fickle crowds of people – praising Him. A day or so later, He allowed Himself to be anointed with expensive perfume at Simon’s house.

Monday was the day Passover lambs were selected, and Monday is when Jesus, the Lamb of God, entered Jerusalem and visited the temple. He drove out all who were buying and selling there; and overturned the cashiers’ tables. He was – so close – to the end. And the desecration of God’s house was disgusting to Him. As it should be to us.

Jewish leaders didn’t like His message. They didn’t like Him. They felt threatened; and though they tried and tried, they found nothing. No crime. They would bring Him down despite that. On Wednesday, Judas conspired to hand Jesus over for 30 pieces of silver. Do you understand what happened? The Savior of the world was betrayed for the price of a slave.

And then it was Thursday. Jesus and His disciples prepared the Passover lamb and ate the Seder meal together. He prayed for them. For unity for them and, yes, for us even all these years later. Then they sang together. How poignant to sing a familiar song one last time.

Jesus came to earth for one reason: to save it. And us. Every. Single. One. He did not run the other way. He did not stop, though it must have been tempting. He put one foot in front of the other, and He fulfilled His awful, terrible, gracious, wonderful mission.

Let’s go there now.

Isaiah 53:5; Images: Pexels.com

Turning Back Our Clocks to Good Friday

We turned our clocks back one hour a few weeks ago. It makes it seem like the day has more light; that night doesn’t come so soon. On Good Friday we turn our clocks back 2000 years to the day when the source of light was killed, when – from noon to three in the afternoon – light was quenched. When there was an earthquake and tombs were opened. When the curtain at the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. When Jesus was crucified.

The nation of Israel celebrated the Passover meal every year as a way to remember when God freed them from slavery to the Egyptians. They still do. They remember the sorrow of slavery. They remember the urgency of leaving their familiar bondage and taking risks to get to freedom. They remember. And it is this meal that Jesus and His apostles celebrated at what we call the Last Supper. Indeed, it was the last meal Jesus ate.

Remembering is time travel. When Jesus said Remember Me, He invited us to be part of the very first communion time – the Lord’s Supper, the Last Supper.

And while they are eating, Jesus says, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.”

They are very sad and begin to say to him one after the other, “Surely not I, Lord?”

Surely. Not. I.

James 2:10 tells us For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it. There can be no hypocrites at the Lord’s table, because whoever partakes admits their own sin and their need for Jesus’ sacrifice.

Surely not I? No, It is me. And it is you. We are the reason for this terrible night.

After the Passover Supper, the friends sing a hymn. We sing with them. Then they walk to a familiar garden called the Garden of Gethsemane. We walk with them. It is quiet and fragrant with the scent of olive trees, and is one of Jesus’ favorite places. No wonder he goes there to fight a battle with his own will, knowing the greatest battle of all will be won on the cross.

And Judas, one of Jesus’ friends, an apostle, steps out from among the crowd pushing its way into this quiet retreat and greets Jesus with a kiss. With that kiss Judas sealed for all time his traitorous place in history. Such a small act. Such an eternal consequence.

The Jewish leaders are fed up with Jesus. They don’t like His message. They feel threatened. Now they’ve finally found a way to bring him to trial. It takes two stages: a religious trial and a civil trial.

They begin with a religious trial, and take Jesus to Caiaphas, the high priest, where the teachers of the law and the elders are assembled. There’s a problem finding anyone who can give evidence against Jesus.

Of multiple charges, none can stand save one. Asked if he is God’s Son, he answers with the truth. Truth is the charge for death.

They bring him before Pilate who sees no basis for the charges against Jesus.

Pilate sends him to Herod who, along with his soldiers, ridicules and mocks him. He has Jesus dressed in an elegant robe in order to make fun of him and sends him back to Pilate.

And Pilate, who knows there isn’t any reason for Jesus’ death, tries to reason with the mob.

“I can have him punished, then release him.”

“Crucify him! Crucify him!”, the mob shouts.

“Do you want me to release Barabbas instead?”

No one in their right mind would want Barabbas released. He’s in prison not only for sedition, but murder.

But the crowd yells, “Yes! Release Barabbas!”

Pilate knows an out-of-control mob when he sees one. They might begin breaking things, destroying property. They’re on the verge of a riot.

Pilate’s wife is upset. Pilate wants nothing to do with this mess. So he calls for a bowl and washes his hands in front of the crowd.

“I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he says. “It is your responsibility!”

We are there at the cross. Soldiers jeer, making fun of Jesus. Do you see them? There they are, gambling for his clothing. They don’t care about suffering. They don’t care about betrayal. They care about winning a game.

We turned our clocks back one hour a few weeks ago. It makes it seem like the day has more light; that night doesn’t come so soon. On Good Friday we turn our clocks back 2000 years to the day when the source of light was killed, when – from noon to three in the afternoon – light was quenched.

And now we must remember one more thing: It’s always darkest before the dawn.

Scripture: Matthew 26-27; image: pexels.com

Witness

 

<iframe width=”560″ height=”315″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/OcLZYiePvtU?rel=0&amp;controls=0&amp;showinfo=0″ frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen></iframe> 

We are living during a time of confusion: Confusion about what is right and what is wrong. Confusion about what is true and what is false. Confusion about what is loving and what is hateful and what is neither. Even confusion about the meaning of words. It’s almost as if people have forgotten how to understand and how to reason. How is it possible? How did we get here?

Yet history points its finger and shows us other times of such – we might as well admit it – depravity. Times of dishonesty. Times of conspiracy. Times of complicity. Times of overwhelming wickedness. Times of sin.

Could it be that the crucifixion of Jesus took place during a time when people were willing  to claim a lie was the truth? A time when some people claimed the truth was a lie? A time when the truth was considered ‘hate speech’?  A time of ‘fake news’?

At this time of year, we are the witness.

We follow Jesus through His final hours. We witness how His words were twisted to accuse Him. We watch as people are confused, lose their ability to reason, and succumb to mob psychology. And we begin in the upper room.

Witness the Last Passover Meal

The last supper is a time of communion. Be willing to be uncomfortable; To examine your own heart truthfully and without excuse; To confess your sin: the big sins and the small sins, the sins you committed by doing the wrong thing and the sins you committed by doing nothing at all.

You are in the garden with Jesus. You see His struggle to sacrifice Himself for sin. And you realize the sin is yours.

Witness the Garden of Gethsemane.

After Jesus spent time with his closest disciples at the last supper, after Judas had lied about not betraying Jesus and Jesus had told the truth by affirming that he would, and after they had sung a hymn together, Jesus went to one of His favorite places, the Garden of Gethsemane. It was peaceful and held nature’s fragrance. Jesus spent a lot of time in such a place. He like to pray surrounded by nature.

Some of his friends had come with him, but they fell asleep. Jesus was left alone in the battle of His love of life and will to live –  with His obedience to God and his will to die so we could be saved.

And Judas, a friend who had spent the last 3 years with Jesus, led a contingent of soldiers into that peaceful garden in order to arrest him. Betrayal. It isn’t an ugly word, but it is an ugly action. And it set in motion the most horrible event in history – an event that saved us all.

Witness the trial.

Then the Jewish leaders took Jesus from Caiaphas to the palace of the Roman governor. By now it was early morning, and to avoid ceremonial uncleanness they did not enter the palace, because they wanted to be able to eat the Passover. So Pilate came out to them and asked, “What charges are you bringing against this man?”

“If he were not a criminal,” they replied, “we would not have handed him over to you.”

 Pilate said, “Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law.”

“But we have no right to execute anyone,” they objected. This took place to fulfill what Jesus had said about the kind of death he was going to die.

They used the law to break the law.

Pilate then went back inside the palace, summoned Jesus and asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?”

 “Is that your own idea,” Jesus asked, “or did others talk to you about me?”

 “Am I a Jew?” Pilate replied. “Your own people and chief priests handed you over to me. What is it you have done?”

 Jesus said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jewish leaders. But now my kingdom is from another place.”

 “You are a king, then!” said Pilate.

Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. In fact, the reason I was born and came into the world is to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”

 “What is truth?” retorted Pilate. With this he went out again to the Jews gathered there and said, “I find no basis for a charge against him. But it is your custom for me to release to you one prisoner at the time of the Passover. Do you want me to release ‘the king of the Jews’?”

What is truth? That is the question Pilate asked Jesus at his trial. It might have been a sincere question or it might have been a sarcastic comment borne of a time when culture’s understanding of ‘truth’ was fluid, perverted, or situational.

 Witness the mob.

 And now we see citizens who only a few days before had hailed Jesus as king and waved palm branches and shouted  ‘hosanna!’ – turn on him.

See how that happened? It was a result of a weak understanding of truth. It was the intelligentsia insisting on their way. It was a result of going along with what everyone else seemed to believe. And it was so very wrong.

They shouted back, “No, not him! Give us Barabbas!” Now Barabbas had taken part in an uprising.

Pilate appealed to them again. But they kept shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

Jesus was brutally beaten. A cross was put on his shoulders. He carried the instrument of his own death down the street – the way of suffering – while people watched. They watched while he trudged up the hill of Golgotha. There he was crucified.

Witness His final words.

“Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed.  When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him, along with the criminals – one on his right, the other on his left.  Jesus said, ‘Father forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’  And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.”

“One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Christ?  Save yourself and us!’  But the other criminal rebuked him.  ‘Don’t you fear God,’ he said, ‘since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve.  But this man has done nothing wrong.’  Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me  when you come into your kingdom.’  Jesus answered him, ‘I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.’

“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.  When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, ‘Dear woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’  From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.”

“It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour, for the sun stopped shining.  And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.  About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?’ – which means, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’

“Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, ‘I am thirsty.’

“When he had received the drink, Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’

Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’  When he had said this, he breathed his last.”

We are the witnesses. We know what happened. We must tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The verdict comes soon enough.

Youtube video, The Passion of the Christ: <iframe width=”560″ height=”315″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/OcLZYiePvtU?rel=0&amp;controls=0&amp;showinfo=0″ frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen></iframe>; Scripture references: John 18: 28-40; Luke 23:21; Luke 23: 32-34; Luke 23:39-43; John 19: 25-27; Luke 23: 44-45, Matt. 27:45-46; John 19:28; John 19:30; Luke 23:46

John 14

 

Today’s guest post is written by Calvin Miller. It was a funeral message written on the back of an advertisement about Wesley Tuttle. I don’t suppose the message needs to be relegated to funerals only, do you?

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John 14

Jesus said, “Be not troubled . . .” We sorrow, but not as others who have no hope. The loss we feel at the death of a loved one is our loss, not his. He has gone home to a better place.

Next Jesus urges us to believe and believe. “You believe in God,” He says, “believe also in me.” Jesus came as the Son of God, also as the Son of man. He meant this to be helpful to us in seeing the way to God. God can live through men – all who allow it. Your loved one’s faith was strong. If he was troubled during his last days it was only because of his inability to speak. His handicap was physical, not spiritual.

My Father’s house – we grow up in houses that are humble or grand, but the important part is that it is home. Home is big enough for all the family (even if crowded) and a haven when we need a refuge. Heaven is spacious, and it is a place where pain and sorrow are absent.

There are many rooms, each furnished for the individual. But these are not cells as in a prison, separated one from the other. There is one heaven with many mansions or rooms.

We are assured by the Lord, “If it were not so I would have told you.” He identifies as a reliable friend, giving to each encouragement or caution as needed.

“I go to prepare a place,” are words spoken by Christ Himself. I believe that He must allow parents also to have a part in making ready the rooms. Parents usually precede their children to this place.

Dr. Watters, veteran missionary now deceased, used to tell of his invitation to the Queen’s Tea. He likened it to the feast described in the Gospels. One does not make excuses to Her Majesty. This invitation takes precedent over all business and social matters. “I will receive you,” Jesus said, into “my own home”. He receives us, accepts us; and as we cross over the threshold, we move beyond the broken dreams of here.

Suffering and Sacrifice

It’s interesting the various things that we find constitute suffering. We might say suffering is going without something we’ve grown accustomed to in life. For instance, if the computer or refrigerator or furnace goes on the blink, we feel various degrees of deprivation and count it as suffering. We might be left out of a group or groups, sense a feeling of rejection, possibly very real, and describe the feelings from that experience as suffering. Or maybe we live with physical pain, chronic or acute. That can certainly be described as suffering, as is battling one’s way back from serious illness or injury.

Sacrifice, on the other hand, isn’t necessarily linked with suffering. Sacrifices, of finances or career choice or time, made by parents for their children are made gladly because of love. Sacrifice of time and money are made by parishioners of churches no matter the nation. Sacrifice of other activities, sleep, and even friends are made by those few who perfect a sport or art through much and repeated practice, study, and rehearsal. Parents, spouses, and children sacrifice their beloved soldier when that soldier is working or fighting or maybe even dying for their country. Sacrifice is for a greater good.

Suffering isn’t necessarily sacrifice, and someone who sacrifices doesn’t always need to suffer. But sometimes they are linked. It would be notable, wouldn’t it, if they were not only linked, but found in someone who could walk away from either or both, and didn’t. Wouldn’t it be amazing if someone who had everything he needed or wanted and who did everything well, suffered and sacrificed for someone who hated him in an effort to offer that horrible person a way to be saved from a horrible consequence?

If you heard about or read about someone whose appearance was nothing that attracted people you might have an opinion about him that included the word “ordinary” or even “homely”. If such a person was despised and forsaken . . . a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief . . . He was despised, and we did not esteem Him, you might think about what a sad life that person had. You would probably say he suffered.

But if, upon further examination, you found that he didn’t just carry his own grief, but carried ours, as well, you’d begin to wonder what kind of guy this was; One who suffers so much and still takes more upon himself in order to remove it from us.

And then, if you continued reading, you’d be stunned to find this same person was pierced through for our transgressions, and crushed for our iniquities. Who does that? Who takes a beating or punishment for someone else? Who dies for someone else – and not just dies, but dies an excruciating death? And who, despite the sorrow and suffering he experienced, still had an indescribable love for the very people who he not only died for, but who killed him? Who would not necessarily acknowledge him? Who would dismiss him as a myth?

One perfect man suffered and sacrificed his life. For Brussels. For Paris. For Lockerbie. For New York. For Jerusalem. For Jews. For Muslim terrorists. For Americans. For Genghis Khan and Napoleon Bonaparte. For Vladimir Putin and Hillary Clinton. For Saddam Hussein and Barack Hussein Obama. For Ted Cruz and Donald Trump. For the abortionist down the street and for the tiny baby that was aborted. For the guy at the bank. For your favorite barista. For the Kardashians, every one of them. For your grandma. For your minister. For the policeman who gave you a speeding ticket that one time and for the one who let you off with a warning. For the obnoxious kid from fourth grade you still can’t forget. For the person you pass every day on your way to work. For you. For me. For us.

Today is Good Friday, the day we remember Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. Go to church and admit your sins and tell him you’re sorry. And thank Him.

putfaithfirst.blogspot

Scripture quoted from Isaiah 53; Image: putfaithfirst.blogspot.jpg

Filled Up

This time of year is filled up! It’s filled with lovely music, with delightful treats and flickr, marc levin-the table is set...Happy Thanksgiving. CC lic 2.0delicious feasts, with decorations of every kind! It’s filled with events like the Christmas tree lighting at Rockefeller Center and Santa in the mall, with fabulous programs of amazing dancing and singing seen by thousands, and precious programs of children’s Christmas poems and crooked halos seen by loving churches.Through the commons.wikimedia.orgwindows of houses on the street where you live sparkling lights peek out of picture windows, while inside someone sips cocoa with marshmallows and sneaks another piece of fudge from the tin set aside for visitors.

It’s as though the world cleans house, puts on its Sunday best, and opens its doors to light and love. It is, after all, Christmas!

And though not everyone celebrates it, everyone benefits by its beauty and bounty and belief; belief that there is something better than what we see on TV, that the beauty of this earth goes beyond color and sound, that peace on earth, goodwill toward men can be more than a platitude. It is, you know. And it came on Christmas Day over 2,000 years ago.

The nation of Israel had waited thousands of years for the Messiah promised by thediploma-152024_640 pixabay (public domain CCO) prophets. Micah 5 gives us one of the prophecies, if you believe in that sort of thing. I do. The nation of Israel did, too; but prophecy often appears differently than those expecting it anticipate. For instance they probably didn’t anticipate a small town, unmarried girl or something as ordinary as shepherds doing their thing.

An angel visited a teen-aged girl named Mary. She was a good girl. She feared God and honored Him and trusted Him. And when the angel, Gabriel, appeared to her and told her that she had found favor in the sight of God; and that He had chosen her to be overshadowed by the Spirit of God; and that she would give birth to His Son, she was – well the Bible says she was ‘greatly troubled’.

If an angel not only suddenly appeared to you, but gave you such a wild message, you’d be greatly troubled, too. She was no doubt scared at the sight of Gabriel, but Mary’s faith in her Creator helped her to listen to his message. She didn’t close her eyes and pretend the angel was just her imagination. And she responded not with an ‘I don’t believe you’ or ‘can’t you find someone else’ or a flat out ‘no’.

She didn’t complain about the gossip that would certainly be spread about her. She didn’t reason with the angel that she could be stoned for being pregnant and not yet married. She didn’t talk about the many things that would certainly cause trouble in her life if this came to pass. Instead, she replied with one of the most beautiful passages of Scripture, something called The Magnificat. It’s found in Luke 1:46-55 and praises God for remembering the little folks and doing magnificent things with humble people.

Mary’s life wasn’t the only one initially affected. Now Joseph’s life was turned upside down, too. He had contracted to marry her, but learning of Mary’s pregnancy left him with few options as a God-fearing Jew. He could allow her to be stoned or he could get out of the contract and let the chips fall where they may. He prayed for God’s direction, then, like most men, he decided to fix it in the best way he knew. He decided he would get a quiet divorce in order to avoid her public humiliation.

However, an angel appeared to him in a dream and told him to go ahead with the marriage because Mary was telling the truth: her pregnancy was a result of the Holy Spirit. Joseph didn’t blame the dream on something he ate or drank. Instead, when Joseph woke up from this dream, he showed great courage and did what the angel of the Lord had commanded him. He took Mary home as his wife, but he had no physical intimacy with her until she gave birth to a son.

Even back in those days, government interfered in the lives of the common man. Caesar Augustus decreed that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. What a huge undertaking! However, it was this very thing that caused Joseph and Mary to have to travel from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem, a town in Judea.

Bethlehem was bustling with citizens who had traveled there specifically to register for the census, and it resulted in packed inns and no room for a young couple who had had to travel more slowly due to a pregnancy. There was room in a cave or stable with the animals and that is where Mary and Joseph settled in for the night.

On this night there were shepherds watching flocks of sheep outside. Some shepherds might lock their sheep in a pen overnight, but not these shepherds. Some scholars think it’s possible they were watching over the lambs born to be sacrificed in the temple.

Did you know that a sacrificial lamb must be without any defect? What if something happened during its birth that would mar or injure it? For this reason, shepherds caught the lambs intended for sacrifice in something called swaddling clothes – to keep them pure and unspotted.

281 Bokeh Free Images on PixabayThe baby was born that night in the stable, and the biggest, brightest birth announcement ever came to the shepherds. First one angel appeared to them, and God’s glory shone around them. They were terrified and, again, if an angel suddenly appeared to you, you’d be terrified, too. But the angel told them to not be afraid. He then gave them a sign: they would find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.

Then a large company of angels also appeared and the heavens erupted with praise to God. That great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”

And the shepherds hurried to Bethlehem and found everything just as they had been told by the angel. They found Mary. They found Joseph.

And they found something that held more meaning to them than it usually does to us. Cross_in_sunsetThey found a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes – the very thing they used to catch the new sacrificial lambs at birth. Can you say “foreshadowing”?

And they spread the word everywhere they went to anyone to would listen. And those people told their friends and neighbors. And so news of such an amazing event spread to whoever would listen.

Wise men from the East followed an unusual sight in the sky – a star that was unusual for its brightness and connection to prophecies, and timing. It took them awhile to travel, so that when the star came to its destination, Jesus wasn’t a newborn baby anymore. public-domain-image.com 2That star didn’t stop over a stable. It stopped over the home of Mary and Joseph and Jesus. The wise men knew Jesus was special. They knew he was a king. They worshipped him and they brought him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

Yes, this time of year is filled with an abundance of things. It’s a beautiful, blessed, filled-up season, but it is all these things because of the one thing that happened in the fullness of time – the birth of the world’s Savior, Jesus.

As we watch the darkness fill with candlelight this Christmas Eve, let’s give praise to God. Let’s praise Him for His bountiful generosity during the season of Christmas and, most of all, give thanks for His unspeakably beautiful and precious gift – Jesus.

Images: flickr-marc-levin-the-table-is-set…Happy-Thanksgiving.-CC-lic-2.0.jpg ; commons.wikimedia.org_.png ; diploma-152024_640-pixabay-public-domain-CCO.png ; 281 Bokeh Free Images on Pixabay ; Cross_in_sunset.jpg; commons.widimedia.org-.png