Holy Week

 
 
            In the middle of the most important and significant week in the Church Calendar, my initial thought was to post some glowing account of an uplifting story; maybe something witty and inspiring; certainly something prescient and encouragingly insightful.  But it only took me a short time of thought to realize that the real message of Holy Week is sad, messy, and tragic.  In other words, this week is filled with reminders and remembrances of great suffering, pain, and agony.
 
            Ah, suffering.  It is a topic we Westerners like to avoid like the plague.  After all, it hurts!  Don’t remind us of the stubbornness and ignorance of others which causes discomfort (see, we like to use words that don’t seem so, well, painful).  Suffering is one of those things that we think we can circumvent.  It goes something like this:  if I do everything well, without screwing up, and don’t make anyone upset or angry, and do an excellent job at all I do, then I won’t suffer.  The problem, however, is that this kind of thinking not only doesn’t work; it isn’t even biblical.
 
            The bald fact of Holy Week is that Jesus Christ lived a completely holy life; he did everything perfectly well and right; he handled each situation and every person exactly the way it should be done; and, it got him violently tortured and killed.  It is the great irony of Christianity that through suffering and death there is life and victory.
 
            It wasn’t just Jesus.  God’s people from Old Testament times through the New Testament and into the present day have always experienced suffering as a central part of their piety and devotion.  Much as we may like, we cannot wriggle out of the very straightforward talk of the relationship between believers and suffering.  “Now if we are God’s children, then we are heirs – heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may share in his glory” (Romans 8:17).  The glorious life of bliss cannot and will not come apart from first suffering; there must be suffering before glory.  Then, there is that pesky verse tucked away in the book of Philippians that many would like to forget:  “For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him” (Philippians 1:29).  So much for thinking that forgiveness of sins means a pass on trials and tribulations.  If that weren’t enough, we get a Dragnet-just-the-facts-ma’am kind of statement from Paul to Timothy: “Everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12).
 
            Maybe our culture is just so stinking hedonistic that we have trouble to no end trying to make sense of why these kinds of verses are in the Bible, let alone embrace them as the norm for Christians.  The medieval mystics of the Church understood well the connection between suffering and faith.  For them, just the opposite was true: they could not imagine a Christian life without hardship, difficulty, and persecution.  Thomas a Kempis, a sort of pastor to pastors, wrote in the 15th century these words:
 
“Sometimes it is to our advantage to endure misfortunes and adversities, for they make us enter into our inner selves and acknowledge that we are in a place of exile and that we ought not to rely on anything in this world.  And sometimes it is good for us to suffer contradictions and know that there are those who think ill and badly of us, even though we do our best and act with every good intention….  When men ridicule and belittle us, we should turn to God, who sees our innermost thoughts, and seek His judgment….  It is when a man of good will is distressed, or tempted, or afflicted with evil that he best understands the overwhelming need he has for God, without whom he can do nothing….  It is in such times of trial that he realizes that perfect security and full peace are not to be found in this world.”
 
            Spending time and energy praying, crying out to God, searching the Scriptures, and forsaking the perquisites of this world are much more worthy endeavors than running from every conflict and hardship that looks like it is coming our way in order to avoid the suffering that might result.
 

 

            Holy Week’s message is certainly one of deliverance.  But that salvation has a price, and Jesus went to the greatest lengths possible to pay it.  We, as his people, do not get a pass on suffering; it is part and parcel of knowing Jesus Christ and him crucified.  Let us not run away from the cross, but run headlong to it, humbling ourselves before a God who is acquainted with grief and sorrow.

Hebrews 12:1-3

            Jesus is the author and perfecter of our faith, “who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising its shame.”  Our Lord experienced the ultimate in suffering and shame; the cross was painful physically, mentally, and spiritually.  It was awful.  Yet, there was joy set before him.  This does not mean Jesus relished in the pain; rather, he clearly understood what his suffering would accomplish: the saving of many lives.
 
            Trying to make sense of this great sacrifice on our behalf can be mind-blowing.  No earthly illustration or word-picture can begin to adequately capture the idea.  However, perhaps what we can understand is undergoing the necessary discipline, effort, and pain in order to accomplish a goal.  Back in the day, I was a cross country runner (back far enough for Sherman to set the way-back machine).  When I was running I would sometimes get that super nasty pain in my side while running.  It is called a side cramp, or side stitch.  If you have never experienced it, the pain feels like an intense stabbing, as if someone were taking a knife and twisting it inside you.  There is really only one thing to do when this occurs:  keep running through the pain and it will subside in a few minutes; to stop running only exacerbates and prolongs the hurt, not to mention losing if it occurs during a race.
 
            Jesus faced the cross knowing that he was going to experience terrible excruciating pain.  He also knew that not facing the shame of it all and avoiding the agony would only make things worse and not take care of the problem.  Jesus endured all the foulness and degradation of the cross for you and me.  The pain was worth it to him.  He did not circumvent it, but embraced it so that the result would be people’s deliverance from sin, death, and hell.  The end game of his redemptive work was joy over deposing the ruler of this dark world.
 
            Suffering often does not fit into our equation of the Christian life; but it should.  Since Jesus bled and died for us, it is our privilege to follow him along the way of suffering.  Holy Week is a time to reflect and remember on such a great sacrifice, and to consider our Christian lives in the face of such great love.
            Gracious Lord Jesus, I give you eternal thanks for your mercy toward me through the cross.  It is a small thing for me to follow you even it means great suffering on my part.  My life is yours.  Use it as you will, through the power of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Isaiah 42:1-9

            As we journey with Jesus through the last days of his life in Holy Week, there is the reminder and the remembrance that God is concerned with justice.  “Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the nations.”  Indeed, in the person of Jesus and through his redemptive events there is the ultimate work of justice.
 
            It is possible that when we think of the word “justice” we might immediately imagine something punitive.  Justice in this sense is the doling out of judgment to one who has hurt another or transgressed the law.  The biblical concept of justice certainly has this connotation, but only secondarily.  The primary usage and understanding of justice in the Old Testament is justly providing a victim with a need they have.  In other words, it is furnishing the hungry with food, shelter for the homeless, freedom for the enslaved, and the poor with basic necessities.  It is to indefatigably work on behalf of another who cannot gain what they need on their own.
 
            So, when God talks of his servant bringing justice he means that he sees the vast needs of humanity across the earth and vows to do something about it.  This is why God the Father sent God the Son, in order to establish the basis for justice for all nations and all people.  Through the death and resurrection of Jesus our primary and most basic needs for life are met:   especially, the grace of forgiveness.  And through this great love, God’s forgiven people are to spread both their spiritual and material wealth to those locked in circumstances of injustice.  The implications for this are immense and reach across to every area of life, whether it is political, economic, relational, emotional, or spiritual to everyone despite differences of race, ethnicity, gender, even religion.  This is why Christians ought to be at the forefront of concern and action for ministries of justice and reconciliation.  We are to stand up for the oppressed and those in need because Jesus made it possible for us to do so.
            Just God, I praise you for your grace and power working together to bring justice to people.  Fill me with your Spirit so that I might point others to the singular work of Jesus on the cross.  Open my eyes to see the immense need around me, and lead me to understand how I might help.  Thank you for acting justly on my behalf in so many ways.  Amen.

The Message of Palm Sunday

 
 
The story of Christ’s entrance into Jerusalem at the beginning of Passover week leads to a couple of penetrating questions:  Is Jesus really enough for me, just the way he is?  Or, do I think he ought to be different than he is?
 
The majority of the people who gathered to give Jesus praise at the beginning of the week, shouted to the Roman authorities to have him crucified at the end of the week.  Why the big turn around?  The change in attitude came because Jesus did not fit the crowd’s expectations of what the Messiah should be and do.  They did not accept him for who he was.  We need to be aware of our own expectations for God, and for what we believe Jesus ought to be and to do.
 
Missed expectations create either hurt, anger, or both.  How we view Jesus determines how we will view the Christian life and the Christian Church.  If we see Jesus as being like an earthly politician and emphasize his war chest while downplaying his meekness, we will then have a triumphalist view of Christianity and be disappointed when there is no practical victory taking place.  The crowd wanted assurances that in Jesus’ first 40 days in office that he would put the big hurt on the Roman authorities.  They had expectations of strong leadership, making things happen, and accomplishing big hairy audacious goals. 
 
On the other extreme, if we view Jesus as only a Suffering Servant and pay little attention to his lordship over everything, then we will remain in spiritual contemplation without effectively engaging the world with the victory of the cross and resurrection.  But if we view Jesus as the Gentle King, the Humble Sovereign; if we see him as lowly royalty, giving due emphasis to both his divinity and his humanity, his authority and his humility; then, we will begin to worship Jesus as he truly is and not as we want him to be. 
 
            Most of the crowd checking out Jesus already had their minds made up about who they thought he should be.  They had no room for a suffering servant and a humble savior because they could only see the sins of others, and not their own sins.  They believed Jesus was the King of Israel, and, for them, that meant a political liberator from the Gentile Romans.  They were aware of the royal psalms that spoke of divine rule over the nations.  The crowd was understandably weary of being dominated by non-Jews, and wanted some serious payback and a new establishment with the Messiah in charge.
 
            To put this ancient scene in perspective, it would be like in our day getting completely jazzed-up about a particular presidential candidate who did some incredible things on the campaign trail and is now entering Washington D.C. to a ticker-tape parade and lots of flag-waving.  Palm branches were the national symbol for Israel, like our flag displays.  There was no question about what the crowd of people wanted:  a strong leader-king who was going to change the establishment and inaugurate a new administration of peace and prosperity that put the Romans in their place and give prominence to the Jews, like King David of old.
 
            But Jesus deliberately chose a donkey to ride on in Jerusalem (John 12:12-16).  He was serving notice to all the people that he was not going to capitulate to the crowd’s agenda for him.  He was not going to become the political savior they were looking for.  He was not coming to overturn the establishment.  He was not there to make everyone feel good about being a good patriotic Jew. 
 
Here is the point that this story emphasizes, and it is a timeless, necessary conclusion:  We are to adjust to Jesus, and not the other way around.  Jesus did not fit into the triumphalist and nationalist scene of the Jews because he is the not just the King of the Jews, but the King of All Nations.  He did take on the establishment – just not the Roman one.  Jesus came to overturn the ruling establishment of Satan and his wicked spirits; he came to upend the principalities and powers of this dark world.  Jesus came to take back the people of this earth for God, and he would not do it through a political revolution, but by a spiritual one.  Jesus would seize power by sacrificing himself for the sins of everyone, and making it possible for people to live a new life without the world, the flesh, and the devil dogging them at every turn.
 

 

The church has a wonderful message of deliverance to communicate.  Let us remember the basis for it in this Holy Week.