He Is Risen!

On Easter morning, in every Christian church throughout the world, the Paschal greeting is exchanged: 
He is risen!
He is risen indeed!
It’s our rally cry, our proclamation of great joy and of our faith. But what are we really saying when we say these words? There’s the literal meaning: Jesus was dead and now he’s not with the connotative undertones of his atonement for our sins and death forever being defeated when he rose to life from death. And while that would be sufficient, those three simple words, “He is risen” have so much more depth.
It means the impenetrable separation our sin erected between God and us has been obliterated, removed by Jesus’ sacrifice. It means that the divine light of God’s grace and forgiveness has flooded into the dark pit of our brokenness, filling us with the indissoluble hope of restoration and renewal, of peace and eternal communion with our Creator, of being completely known, accepted and loved without reservation. It signifies that we now recognize life’s true meaning and purpose and it is our confirmation that, no longer being enslaved by sin, and in heartfelt gratitude, we offer our praise and our lives to the God who gave all he had and was to secure our freedom.
It means that when we chose sin over our Creator, God exercised divine patience and restraint, choosing to delay the punishment for our sin knowing that one day he would bear our burden. No human can truly comprehend the pain of betrayal and separation God endured because of our sin nor the crushing blow of God’s condemnation and punishment which he took upon himself for our sake. The strength of his unyielding resolve assured our salvation.
He is risen!
He is risen indeed!

Meet Me in the Easter Story

It's Holy Week, when we as Christians will spend more time in worship then any other time of the year. We'll praise God for his sacrifice and glorify him for his victory. Though the events of the Easter story occurred thousands of years ago, it is still just as real and relevant today and if we could put ourselves in the story, it just might give us a fresh perspective on how great God is and how blessed we are. To that end, I attempted to put myself in the story in writing the poem that follows. I invite you to join me there. 

Meet Me in the Easter Story
Meet me in the Upper Room where
in the strength of our untested conviction
we were so sure that
we could never betray the Lord.
But Jesus knew.
And still He washed our feet.
Knowing, he shared his body and blood
in the bread and wine,
giving a new command:
to love.
Love with compassion and service,
in humility and sincerity,
with patience and mercy.
Love completely and unreservedly.
Love selflessly and boldly.
LOVE.
Love as He loves.
But we were too busy pointing fingers,
seeking the guilty
and boasting of our own greatness
to see the sinner,
the betrayer within.
How wrong we were even as we went with Him
to the garden.
 
Meet me at Gethsemane where
we would not even give an hour.
Did not sit with Him
in His anguish,
this Jesus we love.
“Pray that God will deliver you
from the trials and temptations about to come” He said
as He went off alone to pray.
His soul overwhelmed with sorrow,
pleading for another way,
pleading for His very life
yet choosing God’s will
over His own desire
while carelessly we dreamed beneath the olive trees.
 
Meet me in the darkness where
we raised a sword
and then ran away.
Cowering at a distance in the night
to satisfy our curiosity
too afraid to stand with
He who calls us friend.
 “I do not know him” we say.
“I do not know him.”
“I DO NOT KNOW HIM!”
And the rooster crows our sin.
 
Meet me at the Cross where
beaten and bloody beyond recognition
our Beloved has carried
the staggering weight of His own death,
the sin of the world,
our sin,
upon His flesh-torn back.
Hollow screams of pain
shrieking out the emptiness
of God’s justice crushing down upon Him.
Him who was sinless and had no stain.
A holy sacrifice.
A sacrifice of love.
With His last breath the earth shakes,
rocks split,
tombs open
and the temple curtain tears.
Oh, Father forgive us for we did not know.
 
Meet me at the Empty Tomb where
guards foolishly believe they secured
the hollowed out chamber of a rock
that cannot hold its Maker.
The very earth shakes as death
loses its grip upon
the Son of God
and the heavy stone rolls away
exposing an empty grave.
 
Mourning women meet brilliant angels
who comfort their fears and announce:
“He is not here!
He is risen!
Come and see.
Then go and tell.”
Duck your head with me as we enter
the echo chamber that holds only
strips of linen
and a neatly folded, empty burial cloth
laid there in the tomb
by the Savior
who no longer needs it.
 
Meet me in the garden outside the tomb,
in Galilee and Emmaus.
Where we know Him when we hear
His voice speak our name.
On the road home defeated when
the Word of God ignites a fire in our hearts
and the breaking of bread
opens our eyes to His presence.
Where our doubts are assuaged as
we touch and feel,
when we see and believe.
Where we recognize Him in miraculous provision
and welcome the glorious peace He gives.
In the moment of our restoration:
“Do you love Me the most?
Then value who and what I love.
Do you truly love Me?
Then care for those I love.
Do you love Me?
Then zealously nurture those I love.”
 
Meet me where you are
for where we are together
He also is
and waits for us.

Through the Wilderness

Through the Wilderness

This road on which I travel
through the dark wilderness
of uncertainty and change
leaves me to feel unsettled,
adrift without purpose
or direction,
strongly lacking motivation
which hinders any progress
I would make.
I’m caught in that indeterminate place
between who I was
and who I’m going to be
and there’s no GPS
to assuage my impatience
or anxiety.
There’s no blue line for me to follow
to wherever I will be
and already I’ve rerouted
on this ambiguous path
circling round a few times
hoping the next turn will set me free.
But even in this unknown wilderness,
though I may not know
which way to go,
I am never truly lost
for I am with my Shepherd
who leads and shelters me.
If I listen for his quiet voice
calling out the way
and step in the places his feet have been
I cannot go astray.
And though the light
of his holiness and grace
reveals only my next step
I trust in him who’s led me here
to lead me all the way.

The Kind of Recognition I Want

My mother who has Alzheimer’s hasn’t recognized me for a few months now. When I visit, I wonder if there is something deep inside her that subconsciously feels that I and our interactions are familiar in some way. Even if I think I see subtle fleeting signs of recognition in her eyes, I’ll never really know if it’s real or if it’s just me wanting so much for it to be real.

However, last weekend I received the greatest blessing! There was absolutely no doubt that she knew me at last weekend’s visit. As I walked into the common room where she and three other residents sat watching tv, she spotted me and there was a definite recognition in the twinkle of her eyes as she laughed out loud in joy and called out to me “Hi Sweetie” and waving at me. A couple of years ago, her greeting wouldn’t have even registered with me. It was the standard greeting when I surprised my mom with a visit in the past. But when the ordinary becomes rare, it’s amazing how valuable it becomes. Even if I never get that moment again, I will treasure this precious memory for the rest of my life.

 It also made me think of the day when I will meet Jesus, face to face, and how I hope in his grace and forgiveness to see that kind of recognition in his eyes and hear him say my name in joyful greeting. While living out my day-to-day faith journey, I try to keep that future homecoming in mind to help remind me of why it is so important to put Jesus first in my heart and my life.

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’ Matthew 7:21-23

Peaks and Valleys

 Unexpectedly, the subject of baptism has come up three times in the last week. Baptism is an outward sign denoting to oneself and the community the fundamental change in heart, mind and spirit caused by God’s grace. I believe the worldwide Christian church can agree on this basic definition but how and when we go about it varies amongst believers. I’m not here to debate the merits of anyone’s understanding of the Sacrament of Baptism or make judgement on anyone else’s baptism. When you set aside all the differences the most important thing remains – God in his grace embracing us and us responding in gratitude by submitting to his Lordship. While the sign last for only a few moments, the action it symbolizes is a lifelong process filled with peaks and valleys of progress and regression.

When I find myself in the peaks looking out over the beautiful landscape of my relationship with God, it’s easy to feel motivated to climb even higher. However, it’s just as easy to despair in the valleys. Looking up at that last peak wondering how I got here, knowing I don’t have the energy or means to climb up the sheer cliff that stands before me and feeling like I’m all alone and lost. But I’m not alone. Peak or valley, God is always with me, even if I can’t perceive his presence. Even if I am lost, he knows where we’re going. I just have to follow his lead one small step at a time and before I know it, I’ll find myself at the top of the next hill.

That all so poetic but what does that look like in real everyday life. For me, it means accepting that, in this moment, I’m not much to offer but I can still offer what little I am to God for his glory. We see examples of this in Scripture, with the destitute widow who fed Elijah with her last bit of bread and the poor widow whom Jesus commended for giving all she had, two pennies, while others gave out of their abundance. I can offer hope and a kind word to those around me. What little help I may be able to offer, I can. I can still pray for the people around me. For a while now, I’ve been feeling like I’ve lost my purpose but maybe it’s just transitioning to something new and these are the first steps up that cliff in front of me. Whatever God has in store for me, I am glad he is with me, leading me on the journey and helping me along the way.