You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ category.
Then the leading priests decided to kill Lazarus, too, for it was because of him that many of the people had deserted them and believed in Jesus. John 12:10-11 (NLT)
There is no indication that he did anything to raise their ire. But the simple fact that he was up walking around was the only reason they needed. His very presence on the streets provided the proof that he was a follower of Jesus. Every breath he took was provided the evidence needed to convict Jesus of having the power to raise people from the dead.
“What?” You may ask. “Convict someone for raising a loved what from the dead? What crime kind of crime is that?”
But it wasn’t the fact the Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead that bothered the Pharisees. It was the fact that he did this miracle outside the controls of the current religious system. Whenever you do God’s work in disregard of tradition you risk being misunderstood, maligned, outcast and, in a word…hated.
After all, there are doctrinal and denominational distinctives to follow. There are ‘proper channels’ to adhere to. God only works in certain ways, at certain times, in certain situations. Right?
Not the Jesus I follow! Not the Jesus Lazarus followed either. Lazarus didn’t need to say a word to witness for Jesus. He didn’t need a degree. He didn’t need a piece of paper proving his ‘ordination’ into kingdom work. And, even though he most likely was baptized (according to tradition) there’s no indication of that in scripture.
Lazarus wasn’t hated for his lifestyle, his theology or his denominational affiliation. He wasn’t judged on his marital status, his occupation or his race, gender and ethnicity. He was judged because he’d been with Jesus and his very life testified to it with every breath he took.
Can we say that? Can I say that? Being hated for being offensive is no glory. Being disliked for our firm doctrinal stand isn’t that admirable. Lazarus was a more effective testimony for Jesus without saying a word than a library full of sermons.
Live life. Live life to the fullest. But in doing so live so closely to Jesus that people will know, without a single word from your lips that you’ve been with Jesus.
PRAYER: Dear Jesus, I pray that you would help me to be a Lazarus. Forgive me for the times my words and actions have brought shame to your name. Empower me with your spirit to live in such a way that my life betrays my allegiance to you. I will not fear being hated for my life built on you. In your name I pray, Amen.
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. Luke 24:1
Every year about this time I’m drawn, for obvious reasons, to the end of the Gospels to read the account of Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection. I never want to miss the emotion of that time in the lives of those who knew Jesus personally.
We as Christ-followers must never lose sight of the emotion of that time in the lives of Jesus close personal friends. As I grow older and hopefully wiser and as more and more of my loved ones have gone on before me I get just a glimpse of the pain, the agony, the sorrow and confusion of the days leading up to ‘Resurrection Day.’
I’ve felt the heartache of losing a brother who died ‘too soon’. I stood by the bedside of my mother as she breathed her last. I’ve held a mother as she sobbed over the body of her little boy. I’ve stood by the gurney of a friend who’d been ushered into glory just hours after I’d talked with him.
Painful as those times were, none of my anguish could compare to those who watched Jesus get beaten, humiliated, stripped naked and hung on a piece of wood for all the world to watch his slow, painful death. As I write this I get goose bumps just thinking of it.
In the midst of all that trauma. In the midst of all that pain. What drove the women to the tomb before sunrise on that Sunday morning? They’d watched him be placed in the tomb. They knew there was a huge stone covering any hope of access to the body. Why didn’t they get some men to go with them? Did they try to solicit help or were the guys too broken up and scared to go out so soon after their master was murdered by a power hungry mob?
I may never know the answer. It may not even be important. In reality I have an idea what one of the reasons was for their early morning mission. It was love.
The ‘Mary’s’, and perhaps a few others, couldn’t let Jesus body be cast aside without the proper spices. They couldn’t bear to let the one who never neglected their needs be neglected at his time of biggest need. Dangerous? Perhaps. Futile? Maybe. But this was Jesus. It had to be done.
Then I ask myself this question. Where would I have been that morning? Would I have held the lantern to light the path? Would I be ready to lift the stone or fight off some Roman Guard? Or would I cower on my mat and be afraid at every noise in the night.
I hope I’d do the former. I pray that I’d be leading the way, because like the adulteress I’m not condemned. Like the blind man, I’ve received sight. My hunger is filled, my thirst is quenched. A risky walk in the dawn mist is the least I can do for my Jesus.
PRAYER: Jesus at this season of the year I’m in awe of your love and compassion for me. I’m reminded of how much you’ve given and how little I deserve. I worship you for all you have done for me. I praise you for your grace, your mercy and your forgiveness. Help me to be like the women who set aside everything else to tend to you. In your wonderful, marvelous and most holy name, Amen.
Early on Sunday morning, as the new day was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went out to visit the tomb. Matthew 28:1 (NLT)
There was no reason to go there. It was early in the morning, long before most people were up. They’d no doubt spent a sleepless night. Sabbath must have been unbearable. Did the two Mary’s go to the synagogue that day? Were they reminded constantly of Jesus throughout the service? After all, it was just a week ago they’d sat with him. Just over a week ago that the crowds had given him a parade any championship team would have envied.
But now he was gone. They’d stood at a distance and watched him die on the cross. His final words still ringing in their ears. It was early Sunday morning as they made their way down the quiet streets and through the garden to the tomb. What could they possibly expect to see? A huge stone covered the entrance to the tomb. They’d heard that a whole company of Roman soldiers were standing guard. There was certainly no hope of seeing Jesus and a good chance they wouldn’t even be able to get close to the tomb. So what sent them there?
Duty driven by love.
They didn’t go because they had to go. They didn’t go because there as any chance of them gaining something from the visit. They went because they loved Jesus and wanted to be near him one more time. They weren’t going with the expectation of recieving anything. They were going to give.
That’s true discipleship. That’s what it means to follow Christ. We do what we do for Jesus because he’s already given us everything he can give. All we have to give in return is our love and allegiance. He doesn’t demand anything from us. He knows we could never repay him for what he has done for us.
So we climb the mountains of our journey. We trudge through the valleys of our existence. We don’t know what lies ahead. We only know that someday, somehow we want to get closer to Jesus.
PRAYER: My dear Jesus. There are so many times I catch myself doing things to win your approval. So many times I measure my spirituality by the things I do rather than what you have done for me. Thank you for loving me even though I fail you. Help me to love you and others the way you have shown us love. Empower me with your Spirit to walk with you in love driven duty. In your name I pray, Amen.
We believe that Jesus died and that he rose again. So, because of him, God will raise with Jesus those who have died. 1 Thessalonians 4:14 (NCV)
“It’s not so important what you believe. The important thing is that you believe something.” Ever heard someone say something similar to that? To think that belief is more important than the validity of the object believed in is ludicrous at best and dangerous in most cases.
I could say I believe I can fly. I could believe is with all my heart. But one jump from the roof will prove me dreadfully wrong. I don’t need to go to that extreme. I know from what I’ve heard and learned and seen in life that jumping from the roof will bring me quickly to the ground and may cause injury or even death. My decision NOT to jump off the roof is based on quantifiable fact.
Faith works in me the same way. There are many religions that speak of some sort of life after death. Many systems of belief encourage morality and philanthropy. But the question that has to be asked of each of these belief systems is, “Where’s the proof? What evidence can you provide that insures I will live forever?” When it really comes down to it, that’s what each of us wants. In life we’d like money and health and vibrant, passionate relationships. But what happens after life can haunt us. It’s not knowing what happens after we die that puts the fear of death in the number one place of terror in our hearts.
That’s what sets us apart as Christ-followers. Jesus rose from the dead. There is a plethora of evidence, scientific and historic, that proves that point. Jesus is the only religious leader that not only stated he would rise from the dead, but actually did it. Not only did he say he would rise from the dead, he promised us that some day he would return for us.
If Jesus did what he said he would do by rising from the dead, we can be assured that his other promises will come true as well. Promises to always be with us. Promises to forgive us, show mercy to us and love us. Most of all, the promise that he will return one day and bring us to himself. We will rise again! How do we know? First of all our leader, Jesus Christ, did. Secondly, he told us we would rise from the dead. If it was true of him, it will be true of us. We will live forever. Death will have no victory over us because Jesus defeated death once and for all.
PRAYER: Dear Jesus, Thank you for offering me forgiveness for my sin. Thank you for fulfilling every promise you have ever made to me. Thank you for rising from the dead so that I can be assured I will live forever. In you I put my trust because no one else can do for me what you do. In your name I pray, Amen.
There was a jar full of vinegar there, so the soldiers soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a branch of a hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ mouth. When Jesus tasted the vinegar, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and died. John 19:29-30 (NCV)
It had been over 30 years since he’d been home. Thirty years of walking the dusty paths of Palestine. Three decades of living as the creator in a human body; of setting aside his royalty to live as a ‘common person.’
He’d stood silently as he watched over 5,000 men, women and children celebrate a feast he prepared from a few small fish and some loaves of bread. He’d seen the amazement of his close friends as he calmed the wind he’d created and the seas he’d formed from nothing. He felt the relief and joy of parents whose little girl he breathed breath into…for the second time, and smiled with joy as his close friend Lazarus obeyed his voice and came forth from the tomb.
He’d listened with faux amazement as his disciples shared their new-found power over disease, demons and death…power he instilled in them to the glory of his father. He’d quieted the demons who insisted on telling the world his identity before it was time.
Amazing? Of course. Awesome to be sure. But all these things we would treasure as victories were nothing to Jesus. The real victory wasn’t at the side of the sick child or the bed of the paralytic. It wasn’t in the touch he gave to the woman who was bent over from years of being crippled or the blind man who received his sight.
The real victory came at the cross. Were we to be there we’d see the Roman soldiers doing what they’d done countless times, driving nails into the hands and feet of another pitiful criminal. We’d see crowds of people. Some crying, some confused, some shouting obscenities at this ‘self-proclaimed’ messiah. What would be hidden from our view were the legions of angels in full battle dress. Ready at a moment’s notice to wipe out these proud and boisterous humans so the King could take his place on the throne. We wouldn’t see the enemy wringing his hands in glee, thinking that once and for all he would be victorious.
We wouldn’t see it. But Jesus did. He saw it all and as the pain from trying to breath became unbearable he asked for a drink. Then, with the taste of bitter, sour wine still on his lips be bowed his head and died.
Before he breathed his last breath he announced to the seen and the unseen world, “IT is finished”. He didn’t say I’m finished in reference to the end of his physical life. He didn’t say ‘you’ are finished. He said IT is finished. The divine plan to bring forgiveness to the unworthy, mercy to the hopeless and grace to the helpless. It was finished and the bitterness of sour wine would forever symbolize the victory each of us has in him.
There’s nothing else to do. No religious tradition or dogma to complete. No acts of charity or repayment to accomplish. All we need to rest in his promises of grace, forgiveness and eternal life was completed on the cross for us that day. That’s what Easter is about. It’s about the completion of the divine plan. It’s about the bitter taste of victory.
PRAYER: Father God I thank you for the gift of grace and salvation through Jesus Christ. My Jesus, I worship you today for the pain you suffered on my behalf so that victory could be mine. Empower me to live for you in such a way that others see you in my words and actions. Amen.
Mike Fisk & Built with Grace 