Isaiah 52:13-52:12


             “He had no majestic bearing to catch our eye, no beauty to draw us to him.”  As I was reflecting on this phrase this morning and contemplating the life and death of Jesus on this most holy of days, Good Friday, I began to think about Abraham Lincoln, of all people.  You see, in his ascendancy to the presidency and in his time in office Lincoln was routinely caricatured in political cartoons as an ape or baboon.  Memoirs of people who had seen the president often commented on how extremely normal and homely he appeared.  In fact, Lincoln was quite gangly; he was tall with very long arms and legs.  Indeed, he did look something like an oddity.  Yet, when Lincoln spoke, people listened and were amazed at his intelligence, ability to connect with people, and his grasp of political philosophy.
             Sometimes I wonder if our Lord was actually physically here on earth today if most people would even remotely recognize him.  Perhaps Jesus would be ridiculed and despised, just like he was all those centuries ago.  I think it is safe to say that he would not make it to the cover of GQ, or make commercials selling underwear.  Instead, Jesus came as a humble servant.  He suffered throughout his life, endured a horrible death by torture, and secured for us deliverance from the power of sin.  God has laid on him the iniquity of us all.
             Most people have forgotten that Abraham Lincoln was assassinated on Good Friday in 1865.  Just as the press did not miss a beat to castigate Lincoln while he was alive, they quickly recognized the parallels between him and Christ in their respective deaths.  But while Lincoln was clearly identified with the American people in their baptism of blood with the Civil War, his was not a salvific death.  Only Jesus, in his singular suffering, died as a substitute for us.  Perhaps Jesus had no outward beauty, but his inward beauty has not only drawn me to him, but saved me from an empty life of sin.  Praise be to God!
             Lord Jesus, you were the suffering servant who has pioneered salvation for me.  Thank you for your sacrifice, and I give eternal praise and gratitude for your willingness to endure the cross.  My heart and life is yours; use it as you see fit.  Amen.

Holy Week

  

 

 
            Each year at this time I go through a bit of lamenting about the timing of the Christian observance of Holy Week, that eight day stretch from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday in which we especially remember the significance of Christ’s redemptive events.  In my locale, Spring Break always occurs during Holy Week which means that a chunk of families are typically gone.  What is more, March Madness is happening in which an even bigger slice of people are glued to their televisions watching or their smartphones live-streaming the games.  As a pastor, sometimes I feel a bit like a voice crying out in the wilderness wondering if anyone can hear me.
 
            Yet, the reality is that remembering the person and work of Jesus, observing his teachings, and seeking to follow him in all things is an uphill climb throughout the entire year when faced with the rest of the culture’s manner of keeping time and observing life-habits.  For most people, it is not the popular thing to do to be on fire for Jesus; it is not the easy to do to radically observe Jesus in everything.  But maybe this isn’t such a bad thing, after all.  Maybe all of this helps us to be quite intentional about living for Jesus and remembering him.  Perhaps it is a unique opportunity to follow Christ each day equipped with a plan and a prayer to seek God through our work, our families, and even our churches.
 
            Observing Holy Week is certainly not commanded in Scripture.  Yet it is a wonderful opportunity to swim against the current of cultural values and fully embrace the biblical values of journeying with Jesus through life.  Just as birthday and anniversary celebrations allows us a different rhythm for a time, or as holidays provide us with certain family traditions, so Holy Week can be for us an expected time of contemplation and reflection resulting in a great celebratory feast and joy.  As we journey with Jesus, consider these special days:
 
Palm Sunday is a focus on the entry of Christ into Jerusalem to shouts of “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”
 
Maundy Thursday marks three significant events in Christ’s last week:  his washing of the disciples’ feet; his institution of the Lord’s Supper; and, his new commandment to love one another.
 
Good Friday marks the death of Jesus Christ.  It is “good” because his death means redemption for the world.  We especially remember why the cross is so very important, that it is the once for all sacrifice to end all sacrifices.  There is now eternal forgiveness.
 
Easter Sunday is the culmination of all the expectations of God’s people, and the fulfillment of all God’s promises to them in Christ.  We rejoice, celebrate, and renew our love and commitment to God for raising Jesus from death.  His resurrection means new life for us.
 
            Observing Holy Week can take the form of attending special church services; the opportunity to read through one of the Gospels over the course of the week with other believers; or focus on the passion narratives in each Gospel.  For the Christian, these are the fundamentals of our faith, the base upon which our lives are constructed.  We return to these again and again so that for the entirety of the year we can live in careful devotion to the Savior who has brought us salvation from sin and offers new life.
 

 

            Holy Week is an opportunity for the church to remember and give thanks with both quiet gratitude and loud shouts of praise, with solemn reflection and expressive response.  There is no time like it in the year.

Hebrews 9:11-15

            Imagine being an ancient worshiper and going to the temple, bringing an animal for a sacrifice, and having its blood sprinkled on the altar by the priest.  Imagine doing it again… and again… and again… and again.  Somewhere along the line you might think, “Wouldn’t it be great if I didn’t need to keep offering animals again and again for a sacrifice?  Wouldn’t it be great if there could be one sacrifice that would end all sacrifices?”  This is, in fact, what was inherently designed into the sacrificial system.  These sacrifices, repeated over and over, were to point to a lasting and permanent sacrifice. 
 
            Enter Jesus.  He came “once for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves but by means of his own blood, thus securing eternal redemption.”  Once for all – what a beautiful statement!  No longer is there any need to keep offering sacrifices.  No longer is there a reason to try and somehow clear my conscience through a ritual act.  No longer do I need to wonder if I have brought enough sacrifices to cover my sin.  It is finished.  It is done.  Christ has secured deliverance from sin, death, and hell through the singular sacrifice of himself.
 
            In this Holy Week we journey with Jesus, remembering his once for all redemptive event of deliverance on our behalf.  If there ever was a time for contemplation, now is it.  Allow the phrase “once for all” to seep ever more into your soul.  Let it bring healing and rest to all of our frivolous striving toward earning deliverance on our own.  Let it slide comfort into your spiritual bones.  Let it settle contentment and confidence to a life filled with insecurity and dissatisfaction.  Let the death of Christ do its intended work.
 

Precious Lord Jesus, I believe that you are the hope of my life and of the whole world.  Your once for all sacrifice has decisively taken care of the sin issue.  I am now forgiven and purified in your holy name.  Praise God!  Amen.

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.