March 26, 2016

Hope Rises From Darkness

45 From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. 46 About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). -- Matthew 27:45-46

Hope is one of those elusive emotions. We hope life will be good. We hope things will turn around. We hope in many things.

Until the day we have no hope. We don’t think things will ever change. We believe we will always be sick or poor or alone. We are filled with darkness deep inside because we have no more hope.

Darkness fell over the earth that day. No one expected this, at least, no one who followed Jesus. They expected a conquering leader. A man who was God and thus could not die. And, yet, there He was hanging from a cross. Where was hope?

It’s what happens when our world shatters. It’s what happens when a once happy marriage lies in shambles or when a child falls into a drug addiction. It’s what we feel when our job is eliminated and we search for months and months to find any employment. It’s what lies deep inside when we bury someone we love way too early for death to have been a thought.

Hope. We become so lost in that great moment of sadness that we forget about hope. We forget that Sunday is coming. We forget that because of Jesus we do have tomorrow. He has not left us here as orphans but has created a path for us to go where He is.

And that changes everything.

We know that with God all things are possible. We are reminded that when we ask, if we believe, we will receive. We know that God wants good things for us. He reminds us that we can move mountains with our faith. Hope lives in Him.

Some days seem bleaker than the darkness that fell that day in Golgotha. Jesus cried out and as we read the words He quoted from Psalm 22 we ask the same of God. We feel lost, forsaken, and we cry out for an answer.

It comes on Sunday. His answer comes in an empty tomb. It is revealed in the garden and on the road to Emmaus. Jesus defeated death. Hope rose from the darkness. That is the priceless gift that awaits us -- on Sunday.

March 3, 2016

Take Responsibility

When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” -- Matthew 27:24

Pilate didn’t want to take responsibility for killing Jesus. It was what the crowd demanded, the Jews, the ones Jesus had come to save. It had to happen this way. We know that. Because Jesus would die, rise three days later, and save all of us who believe.

But on that day, Pilate wanted no part of what was happening. He was part of it. We all are. We all played a part in the death of Jesus. We still do. Every time we look the other way, every time we have something better to do, every time we put ourselves first, we kill Jesus all over.

Years ago I had a roommate who informed me one day that she just didn’t feel at home in the apartment we shared. The blame of course was mine. Except it wasn’t. I suggested she stop treating the apartment like a hotel and start cleaning it like a home. After she got over the shock, she did. See it was never going to feel like her home until she started taking responsibility for its upkeep. So long as she simply showed up to watch television with her boyfriend and to sleep, it was never going to feel like home.

We’re like that with church. We show up on Sundays and wonder why we don’t feel close to other church members. We don’t have time for classes or special events or programs. We want the church -- its members -- to be there for us when it’s convenient but we don’t want to be bothered when it’s not. We can’t develop close relationships, whether in church, family, neighborhood or work, without spending time cultivating those relationships. We have to take responsibility for making it happen and not wait for someone else to do it for us.

We’re always full of ideas for things other people should do. We want to fix everyone else but ourselves. We don’t want to take responsibility. It’s just so much easier to point the finger elsewhere, to wash our hands so to speak, of whatever we’re facing. Then we get angry when it doesn’t work out the way we wanted.

Pilate didn’t want to kill Jesus. He knew Jesus was innocent. But the crowd, well, the crowd was determined. Pilate washed his hands and refused to take responsibility but he could never erase his own guilt. Neither can we. Whether you accept responsibility or not, it still belongs to you.

Friday, April 22, 2011

God Never Leaves Us

About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” -- which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” -- Matthew 27:46

Have you ever felt that God has abandoned you? Have you ever looked up at the sky and begged God to see you and hear you and help you? Jesus knows how you feel. His words as He neared death on the cross clearly reveal that.

Jesus suffered an unimaginable agony as He hung on that cross. Six hours just on the cross. And before that a flogging. All because He healed the sick and give hope to the poor. Because He dared to teach God’s Word as God intended it. Jesus was the only truly blameless person to ever live and yet He died in shame, in humiliation, in pain. Punishment that belonged to you and me.

Yeah, He felt abandoned. Did God turn away as some folks speculate? I don’t think so. God doesn’t turn away from us when we sin so why would He turn away from His Son while that Son paid for my sins and yours? I believe God felt Jesus’ pain, just like He feels our pain.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning?” -- Psalm 22:1

David wrote those words hundreds of years before Jesus cried out on the cross. A man after God’s own heart felt abandoned by God too. So maybe feeling abandoned isn’t such a rare thing. Maybe we can take comfort in those words.

The thing is God doesn’t abandon us. Ever. He never leaves us. We leave Him. We probably don’t mean to. At least, not at first. But we go out on our own trying to live our lives as we see fit. We try to solve our own problems. We try to handle things by ourselves. And we get in really deep water, we panic and, then, we start looking for the rock. We feel lost and alone. Abandoned. But we aren’t. He’s right there. Where He’s always been.