Thursday, March 28, 2013

Don't Turn Away

But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  (Romans 5:8)
 
As Christ-followers, Easter is the most significant time of the year for us.  On Sunday, we will celebrate in worship and around family tables the resurrection of our Lord.  Some of us will participate in fun-filled egg hunts and perhaps exchange pastel-colored candies.  All of this is appropriate: the triumph over the grave that Jesus secured for us calls for nothing less than utter jubilation.  But before we partake of the festivities of Easter Sunday, I challenge us to step into the sorrow of Good Friday.  The resurrection was not possible, nor can it fully be appreciated, without the slaughter of God’s Perfect Lamb.
 
Most of us would agree that our culture is inundated with violent images.  Deadly force, bloody gore, and torture have become pillars of mainstream entertainment.  For better or worse, we’ve learned to tolerate it.  We know that what we’re watching isn’t real.  We know they’re just actors and that bloody mess is ketchup, makeup or special effects.  We might get caught up in the adrenaline of the moment, but when the credits roll, we carry on with our day no differently than before.
 
The real thing is entirely different.  Ask a solider returning from war, or someone who has watched their loved one slowly wither away from the ravages of disease.  Over the years, I have counseled countless crime victims in hospital emergency departments.  One afternoon, I was called to the bedside of a woman who had been beaten so severely that only one of her eyes was unharmed.  The rest of her, from her hair to the soles of her feet, was saturated in blood.  She moaned in pain, unresponsive to any question or statement directed toward her.  When the doctor or nurse moved any part of her for any reason, her screams echoed off the walls.  Despite my training and experience, I was grossly unprepared for this moment.  Despite my compassion for her, it took every ounce of willpower in me not to bolt from that room and never return to any hospital, ever.  The terror from the sights, sounds and smells in that room is indescribable, but I stayed by her side.  How, then, can I turn away from the suffering of my Lord?
 
It doesn’t get more real than the crucifixion of our Lord.  The suffering that Jesus endured is so difficult for us to consider, and it’s even harder to watch portrayals of it such as in “The Passion of the Christ.”  It's so difficult because we know that our sins contributed to His suffering, and that God allowed His Son to be slaughtered in order to save us from eternal death.  Such a sacrifice demands our attention to it.  Such a sacrifice on our behalf demands that we not deny or run from the reality of it.  It’s okay that we cry, that we wince, that our stomachs are churned in disgust and horror.  It’s the reality of our sinfulness and the sacrifice made for our redemption.
 
Praise God, He is risen!  But before He rose, He was slaughtered.  Before He overcame the grave, He entered it in the most painful and humiliating way possible.  Let us reflect, meditate, and be fully present in the reality of Good Friday.  Let us not turn away.  Why?  Worthy is the Lamb that was slain for us.

 

Monday, March 18, 2013

Sweating Blood

And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.  (Luke 22: 44)

Of the four gospels describing the ministry of Jesus Christ, only Luke’s account includes the stunning detail that Jesus sweated blood while praying in Gethsemane.  This detail is quite illustrative in conveying the depth of despair Jesus was feeling just prior to His arrest.  Mark describes Him as being “deeply distressed and troubled,” and in Matthew 26, Jesus says, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (v. 38).

It's very fitting that Luke - a physician - chose to include this detail in describing the depth of despair Jesus felt.  The sweating of blood is a very rare medical phenomenon called hematidrosis, which can occur under extreme stress or if someone suffers from a blood disorder.  Blood vessels from within burst and blood seeps through the pores of the skin much like droplets of sweat.  Perhaps the most stunning fact about hematidrosis is that it renders the skin and underlying flesh especially tender and vulnerable to injury.  This means that the scourge inflicted on Jesus was likely more painful and caused greater injury than it would have otherwise.  When one considers the extent to which Jesus was whipped and beaten, plus the agony of being nailed to and hung from a cross, plus the fatigue and mental anguish He experienced, well… I would venture to say that none of us can fully appreciate that kind of suffering.

Jesus felt such mental and emotional anguish in Gethsemane because He understood the suffering that He was about to endure.  He had heard and witnessed with human ears and eyes the cruel punishments the Romans inflicted on those who offended them, including crucifixion.  For Jesus to claim to be the Son of God was certainly offensive to them.  But only Jesus could know the severity of pain caused by the physical embodiment of the sins of humanity.  No system of measurement devised by mankind could ever begin to quantify it.  We can’t possibly wrap our minds around it.  But He could.  And He chose it.

The fact is that Jesus loves us so much that He chose to endure pain beyond our imagining, pain inflicted by us.  He loves us so much that He didn’t hesitate to die the cruelest possible death so that we might escape our own much-deserved agony of an eternity separated from God.  He loves us so much that He faithfully followed the will of His Father, who mysteriously, inexplicably believes that you and I are worth it.

Why should we devote ourselves to Jesus?  That's why.  Sweating blood was just the beginning.

 

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Somebody Tell Them

He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” (Mark 16:15)

It’s happened to most of us at one point or another:  You notice an hour or two after lunch that you have piece of lettuce stuck between your teeth like a green flag flapping in the breeze.  You remove the unsightly obstruction and go about your day, but then it hits you…How many people saw me with lettuce in my teeth?  And why didn’t any of them bother to tell me?  How about those times when we notice that a stranger’s shoelaces are untied?  Do we risk stopping him and telling him (gasp!), or do we just assume that he’ll be okay, that he won’t trip and fall?

These are common social situations that challenge us to overcome a minor amount of discomfort to do the right thing for another person.  We know we don’t have to say anything.  After all, someone will eventually tell them, or they’ll discover it on their own, right?  But we also know what it’s like to have food stuck in our teeth and for our shoelaces to come untied.  We would want someone to alert us.

What about sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ?

In some parts of the world, evangelism is a crime punishable by imprisonment or death.  Our own culture frowns upon talking about Jesus and sharing our testimony publicly.  Those who do are sometimes mocked or otherwise regarded with disdain.  This makes it uncomfortable for many Christians to strike up an honest, open conversation about who Christ is, what He did for us on the cross and through His resurrection, and what salvation and life in Christ means.  But what could be more important?

Years ago, a former employer of mine named Adam drove 45 minutes in the middle of his busy day to take me to lunch and to share the gospel of Christ with me.  Jesus was not yet a discernible part of my life at that point, so I found this conversation to be quite uncomfortable.  I could tell that it wasn’t the easiest conversation for Adam, either, but he was undeterred.  I will never forget his sense of urgency.  My salvation was simply more important to him than anything else he had to do that day.

The Christian rock group City Harbor sings, “Somebody tell them that the lost are saved.  Somebody tell them that their debt’s been paid, and let them know that love is calling out their names.  Somebody tell them they’re the child of the king, and there is an end to this suffering…  Too many times we’ve all held back the truth from those put in our path.  So let us be the voice of love.  Somebody tell them now.”

Someone in our midst needs to hear the Good News, and there's no time like the present to share it.  Don't assume somebody else will tell them.  We are that somebody - you and me.

Monday, March 4, 2013

A Time and a Place

 
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.  The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” (Galatians 2:20)

A few weeks ago, I met with a politician as a requirement of my job, a meeting that I regarded going into as a “growth experience” (meaning that I was not exactly looking forward to it).  I’ve had very little personal experience with politicians, and what I know of them is…well…not positive.  More importantly, I am not by nature one who is good at “schmoozing” with others.  But, with talking points in mind from my colleagues and dressed for the part, I met with this man.  An hour later, I emerged from my meeting having failed miserably in meeting my objective.

Just this past weekend, a woman who might be considered a telemarketer called my house asking if I’d like to renew the satellite radio connection I have in my car.  On par with my displeasure in speaking with politicians is speaking with telemarketers, so this was yet another conversation into which I entered reluctantly.  Ten minutes later, I hung up having purchased another year of commercial-free listening for my traveling pleasure.   To say that it is rare for me to purchase anything over the phone is an understatement.

These two encounters were, on the surface, highly uncomfortable and completely out of character for me.  But they also had something most welcome and unexpected in common – Jesus was on the agenda. 

In introducing ourselves, the politician spoke of his faith and how it has influenced his work, leading to a nearly hour-long discussion about Jesus.  With time running out, I did manage to slip in at least some of what I had come to talk about, but mostly I had to laugh.  When my newfound brother in faith asked why I was laughing, I said, “I have no idea what to tell my colleagues that you and I discussed.”  He looked me square in the eye and said with thoughtful sincerity, “Tell them that we talked about Jesus Christ.”  Indeed.

While discussing the benefits of renewing my radio connection, I told the telemarketer that I do enjoy satellite radio because my travels often take me in and out of reception for local stations.  She asked me what station I liked to listen to.  In my reply, I indicated that my choice of station usually depends on my mood, but that most often I listen to the Christian rock station.  “Oh!’ she exclaimed, “have you heard that song ’10,000 Reasons’?”  This sparked several minutes of comparing our favorite songs, until she realized that our call was being recorded for quality assurance purposes and that she’d better get back to business.  (I should add that she gave me a discount).

We have been socialized to avoid open discussions about faith with certain people and in certain situations.  While meeting with a politician on work time?  No way!  When speaking with a telemarketer?  Not a chance!  There are numerous other examples we could cite as being off-limits to talk of Jesus.  But if I truly love Jesus, if I am committed to following Him anywhere, then there are no limits.  If Christ comes before all else – before my work and my luxuries – then He must be granted free reign in all places.  Most importantly, Jesus has not just saved me and redeemed me, but He loves me daily with a love that is beyond compare.  How can I be silent about such love?

When is the right time to talk about Jesus?  Anytime.  Where is the right place?  Anywhere.