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Resurrection Musings

Dear Sister,

Someday we will all be given a disease, some diagnosis, even just old age, accident, or another circumstance which will take our lives…unless Jesus returns first. Our family was given a reprieve recently from the last enemy when my younger brother survived a heart attack, a resurrection of sorts.

The true believer in Christ, the one who has received Christ alone through faith alone through grace alone—that person will not die forever. In reality, no one will die forever, but the Christian will be raised to life everlasting. The unbeliever will be raised as well, but will be thrown into the fires of hell and eternal torment, banished forever from the presence of God.

Easter is here. A commemoration of the already and the not yet. His resurrection past. Ours to come.

Let’s look back.

On the first day of the week after that last Passover supper on Thursday, Peter tried to remember all the events leading up to what he was hearing now from Mary and the other women.  He remembered well that night when he was humbled, when the Master had removed His outer garment, wrapped a towel around His waist, knelt and washed Peter’s dirty feet as if the Lord were a common servant. If only he, Peter, had thought of doing it first.

That was the night Judas Iscariot had left the supper early, after his feet were washed…The night Jesus had talked about bread being His body and wine representing His blood. It did not make sense. A new covenant ratified by Jesus’ blood?

Fresh in Peter’s mind was his sleepiness in the Garden when he and his close friends could not keep their eyes open from exhaustion, physical and emotional. Jesus had gently chided him for not being able to stay awake with Him for even one hour, warning that the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. He had promptly fallen asleep again until Jesus jarred him awake, warning that soldiers and Jewish leaders were coming to take the Lord by force. Judas Iscariot—Judas, their friend and companion for three years, had betrayed the Master. How could this be?

Quickly came his own denials of the One he loved, the One he had formerly declared to be the Christ, the Son of the living God, thoughts which now crushed his soul. For the rest of his life he would remember Jesus’ eyes looking at him when that rooster crowed in the dawning light of Friday. Was it love or sorrow or pity or “I told you you would deny me” when their gaze met? It was enough to make him flee that courtyard and warming-fire to break down and weep bitterly in true shame and sorrow and repentance.

The mock trials and the frenzied chants of the mob screaming, “Crucify Him! Crucify Him!”, from the same people who had just a week before welcomed Him into town waving palm branches as if He were a king, were etched as a nightmare in his soul. The memory would probably haunt him forever, even after he would come to understand the reason for these things, things Jesus had told him many times, but his hard and stubborn heart would not, could not receive.

His Lord was executed on that macabre method of capital punishment devised by the Romans, the rugged cross of torture. Why? What had Jesus done to deserve this? Peter felt the deep oppression of the three hour darkness in the afternoon of the day and doubtless heard how Jesus had taken His last breath. Dead. Dead. Dead. And now, this Sunday morning, Mary was trying to tell him, on orders from an angel, that the Master’s body, wrapped in cloths and laid tenderly in the grave of a rich man, was gone. The dazzling angelic messenger declared Jesus was risen and to go tell Peter.  This seemed an idle tale, but he had to see for himself, so he ran with John, to the burial site. His friend was younger and quicker and was already peering into the cave, the stone having been rolled away just as Mary had asserted, when Peter, panting from his exertion, arrived and burst into the tomb to see what he would see. Grave clothes, but no body.  Anyone stealing a dead man surely would not have unwrapped the body from the burial cloths. Where was He?

The Scriptures tell us Peter departed, marveling to himself at what had happened. He had not understood the Old Testament Scriptures nor Jesus’ teachings about the necessity of the resurrection.  Perhaps the eyes of his understanding were gradually being enlightened.

Scripture does not tell us all of Peter’s feelings, but with some visualizing and human affinity, we can imagine some of the “if only-s” and “what if-s” going on in his heart. The worst was, no doubt, the fresh memory of those three denials after his flourish of bravado boasting he would never deny the Lord, he would follow Him wherever—

As Jesus is wont to do with His brothers and sisters, He was not finished with blustery Peter. The risen Lord, in His mercy and love and tenderness, appeared to His passionate and fickle friend before appearing to the rest of the disciples. We are not privy to the conversation, but it seems that Peter would have been reassured of the Savior’s love for him—that the relationship was intact. How I would have wanted to see the living Savior’s eyes as He met Peter along the way. What did Jesus say? What did the soul-battered fisherman do? We surely know he did not bitterly weep this time. Perhaps there were tears of great joy.

Peter saw the Lord several more times before that final scene when he craned his neck as long as possible, watching as a cloud swallowed Jesus from his sight. This time he was not desolate. He was not in despair. The Lord was alive forevermore and on a sandy beach over breakfast had given Peter his marching orders to feed Christ’s sheep. The promised Helper would come to fill him with power and boldness instead of fear and weakness.

The next time we see the once vacillating, denying, and fearful Peter, the one who had met the risen Christ in a priceless, face-to-face encounter, we hear him, before a crowd, lifting up his voice with confidence and understanding:

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through Him in your midst, as you yourselves know—-this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. God raised Him up, loosing the pangs of death, because it was not possible for Him to be held by it…” (Acts 2:22-24)

If Peter were here now he would tell us that because Jesus lives, the grave will not be able to hold us either. Oh, wait, he does speak:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.” (1 Peter 1:3-5)

Amen and amen.
He is risen! He is risen indeed!

Rejoicing with you,

Cherry

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Creation Glory

Dear Sister,

Sitting on the beach in the late afternoon with the foamy  water lapping at my feet, looking at the vast swathe of sea and sky, listening to the cries of gulls, watching baby crabs dig their holes, schools of teeny fishes darting this way and that, the bodies of lifeless jellyfish lying on the sand, my mind tends to wander and be astounded at the bigness and limitlessness of the universe. That ball of fire we call sun begins its apparent disappearing act this side of the globe, yet still lighting that other sphere we call moon, causing the great sweep of dark, rippling water beneath to shimmer and glisten in the night. The sheer creativity involved in this place we live, this tiny speck of seemingly never-ending pulsing of life and silence of death can overwhelm. If I think too long and hard it renders me feeling insignificant.

My daughter who has special needs is a creator. She designs and draws and paints and writes. She does these things with paper and pencils, brushes and tempera paint. Those things we bought at a store. The store’s buyer purchased them through a distributor who obtained them through a manufacturer, who procured raw materials from other distributors, and on and on. What is common amongst all these players, including my daughter, is the fact that everything made was made from something else. Nothing was made out of nothing.

We cannot fathom the creation of something out of nothing. Our brains cannot process such musings. Scientists have forever tried to explain the origin of our universe, some attributing it to a self-existent, never-created God, but most have tried (with widespread public success) to accommodate creation to human reasoning which often ends sounding quite foolish and unreasonable.

The Scriptures tell us that God, without beginning or ending, created our intricate, spectacular, staggering universe with all its particulars, seen and unseen, known and unknown out of nothing. Listen to a few TED talks, watch Animal Planet, National Geographic and be amazed at our world conceived and spoken into being by our almighty God. Look up in the night sky and ponder the vastness of the universe beyond imagination. Sit with me on the beach and envision the unseen creatures roaming the inky depths of the ocean. Contemplate the immobilizing power of the hurricane, the flood, the earthquake. Reflect on molecules and cells, DNA, proteins, electrons and all those things my mind fails to grasp.

Beyond all these magnificent and sometimes unnerving results of omnipotence, there remains a quiet and unfathomable creation the physicists, the biologists, the chemists, the astronomers cannot see with their microscopes and telescopes. Almighty and fearful God of this universe, condescending to His creation, choosing a people for Himself created in His image for His own possession, brings to life within us a new heart, a heart after His own heart. Looking at our own darkness before Christ possessed us only to create in us new fleshy hearts responsive to His Spirit, we are the most amazing of all His creations. This incredible world will burn up, but the new creation He made in His people will never be consumed. We will live forever and ever and ever—in His presence—to His praise and glory—in a new heaven and earth of His own creation.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
2 Corinthians 5:17

Be still, dear Sister. Think about these things.  Be overwhelmed. Be humbled. Know that our God, He is God.

Worshipping Him with you,

Cherry

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The Gift of Creation and Its Salvation

Right after High school I attended a Bible school that lies in the Adirondack mountains in upstate New York. Every opportunity I could get I would grab my bike and ride along the snake-like country road to climb the trails in a nearby park.  I hiked up to the top…or close too it if people were there…and choose a rock to place myself and backpack so I could simply listen to silence.  Then pray.  I’d even sing praise songs as loud as I could to the swaying trees and slapping streams.  As the day would gray toward night, the largeness of this creation began to close in and I would rush home, refreshed from the time.

In the Lord’s Providence, I grew up in a camper family that explored natural parks, campgrounds, and many creation wonders.  I have traveled to numerous continents and seen climates from glaciers to rushing waterfalls in tropical rain forests, from the rocks of Petra to the islands of Thailand.  I have eaten food from all over the world – injera bread in Ethiopia, fruit in Thailand, sushi in japan, falafel in Israel, to chocolate in Switzerland.  I once petted a tiger in Asia and dodged lions and bull elephants in the Serengeti.  Yet even in all this I have barely beheld the beauty of God’s creation.

Oddly enough, one of my most powerful encounters with God’s creation happened while I was visiting Louisville, Kentucky after living in Thailand for a number of years.  When I got out of the car for the first time it was at night.  I looked up into the sky and asked my future husband, “do you hear that?”  “Silence!”  No noisy city or light pollution.  I could see the starry sky that I grew up under.  I was in awe and invigorated.  I was quietly enjoying the stars that millions of others have seen since God threw them into the sky.  I was smelling the fresh air that the beautiful trees provided by taking in our carbon dioxide and giving us back the precious oxygen we need.  Every sense God has given us to engage in His creation was being stimulated.  The only response that seemed right was worship.  Not worship in the creation, but worship in the Creator who fashioned this world and Universe with more vibrant colors, tastes, sounds, textures, and aromas that we won’t truly appreciate until heaven.  He could have only made one kind of everything, but instead he created a wheel of sensational beauty.  And all of it is according to His order and wisdom.

Sweet sister, not all of us will be able to experience all the varieties of God’s creation, yet look around you.  Look at the eyes of your loved one, stroke your dear pet’s fur or scales, look up at the moon and stars at night, slow down and savor your food and drink, take a walk at sunset, buy a National Geographic and be marveled at God’s creativity.  Let your kids wake up your sense of wonder at an ant line, butterfly wings, and dirt!  And then…THEN, lift up your hands to thank and Praise God for these precious gifts.  And know that God’s greatest creation, you and me, was so precious to Him that He became like us, took on our form lived the life perfectly, so He could die the death we deserved in order to save His most exquisite creation.  He not only went to great lengths to let His creation experience an effervescent world, He died to save it.

Maltbie D. Babcock penned it best with this great hymn:

This is my Father’s world,
And to my list’ning ears
All nature sings, and round me rings
The music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas—
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world:
The birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
Declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world:
Oh, let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world,
The battle is not done:
Jesus who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one.

Your sister in Christ,

Colleen

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The Lord’s Unfailing Compassions

Dear sister,

Being a care giver is a very strenuous mission. It taxes one physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I should know because I have been the mother of a special needs child for 27 years now.  Obviously because she is my child the love I have for her is not only indelible but it is a powerful source of motivation to care for her. However, I have learned that even my love for her fails at times.   If it is only because of my love for her that I care for her and act on her behalf then she will at times be wanting. I am only human and it is impossible for me to show her love and care one hundred percent of the time.

From a very early age I began teaching my daughter the truth that human love can only go so far.  I started the habit of finishing our day with prayers, sometimes a song, and a Bible story.  Then an exchange of snuggles, kisses, laughter and I love yous.  On my way out the door, with the lights out and her heart full I would ask her “Who loves you the best?”  The first few times she would say “Mommy and Daddy” to which I would say “Yes, mommy and daddy do love you but Jesus loves you even more!” And I would explain how that was.

Our Triune God is the only one who can love us mercifully and compassionately through and through, over and over, for all eternity.  I am grateful that God’s attribute of compassion is a shared one. However, having cared for someone 24/7 for these twenty – seven years (whether she has been in my presence or not) has shown me that it truly is only God’s compassions that fail not. My compassions are weak and feeble at best, no matter how much I love the person I am given the opportunity to show compassion towards.

God’s unfailing compassions are based on the attributes which He alone possesses. Some of these attributes are that He is the supreme ruler of all things, He is all knowing, all powerful, and always present.  He cannot be measured and He never ever, ever changes. Therefore, His compassions can never fail, meaning they are always working for the good of the recipient of those compassions, to the praise and glory of His Name.

When I see God’s compassions through this lens my heart melts.  It melts because I know that even though He has graciously shared the attribute of compassion with me so that I might be compassionate towards others, I have failed and I will most likely fail again. I need Him and I need His compassion towards me, a fragile, weak and sometimes rebellious sinner. My heart melts in knowing because of Christ’s righteousness being imputed to me, I am able to receive His compassions and to transfer those compassions to others in need. God showed compassion to those He calls His children by giving us His Son and by dying so that we might live for Him.  So, why would I not? Why would I withhold what God has so graciously and abundantly given to me? God forbid that I would be greedy with that which He so freely lavishes upon me!

I’m not perfect nor do I want to be. However, may you and I dear sister long to be compassionate like our Heavenly Father is and to rejoice when we see that His compassion toward us has not left us wanting. May we rejoice in the fact that He is sufficient in all ways.  Look for it today sweet sister, don’t miss the opportunity to rejoice in His unfailing compassions!

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion…”  Lamentations 3:21-23

In awe today,

Susan

 

 

 

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When Jesus Weeps: Knowing the God of Compassion

Dear Sister,

It’s always been very easy for me to take or leave romantic relationships. Silly as it may sound, “working things out” for whatever reason was never a thought that even went through my head. Every issue was a make it or break it issue—I was that naive.

I know now that relationships take a lot of work—even when you really like the person you are with. It may seem easy for a time, but eventually the rose-colored glasses come off and the problems start appearing apparently out of nowhere. Those lovey dovey feelings you felt in the beginning are now somehow replaced with irritation, frustration, or even disappointment with your significant other.

But Jesus does not leave us alone with our emotions on those days. He doesn’t frown upon the days when you’re not your usual bubbly self, singing in the car on the way home from work. If you read the psalms you’ll see that God never dismisses our emotions, but encourages us to engage with Him through them.

But perhaps the most profound verse in the Bible is also the shortest verse: Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

Did you ever find it curious that when Mary and Martha sent word to Jesus that Lazarus was dying, Jesus intentionally waited TWO more days in the place where he was before going to Judea where Lazarus was? He knew Lazarus’ illness and death was “for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it” (John 11:4). So, he waited, and Lazarus died.

When Jesus does arrive, Lazarus has already been in the tomb four days. But before he even gets to the tomb we are told that Jesus was “deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” at the sight of Mary and those with her weeping. Then, instead of going straight for the grand finale of the resurrection, Jesus takes the time to weep at the tomb. Jesus wept!

In this ordinary display of grief, Christ reveals not only his humanity, but also his divinity. He shows us that God is a compassionate and emotional being who is willing to come alongside us and walk through whatever it is we might be going through.

For me, I struggle with loving someone that I’m in a romantic relationship with. In fact, in all my feeble attempts at romance, I don’t think I successfully loved any of one of them. I wasn’t even trying! But you know what else I never did? I never asked God to help me. I never asked God to intervene or show me how to love the person he had placed in my life.

So, sis, whether you’re angry, sad, disappointed, or frustrated, look to Christ. Ask Him to intervene, knowing that you do not have a high priest who is unable—or unwilling—to sympathize with our weaknesses. He hears you. He sees you. And He loves you!

Walking with you,

Kayla