Perspective

Two children are playing outside on this lazy summer morning.  The colours are hazy, the grandeur of the mountains slightly faded by the warm smog rolling in from the city.  The older of the pair, an eight-year-old girl, laughs as she holds up her thumb and squints with one eye in the direction of her younger brother.  "Ha! I can't see your head anymore, it's gone!"

"Hey..." the little boy retaliates, trying this trick of perspective for himself.  He pinches thumb and forefinger until they nearly touch. "You're only this big!" Turning their attention to the car in the driveway, the mountains in the distance, the sun in the sky, they measure the astonishing smallness of these familiar objects, laughing at the absurdity of the game.

~ ~ ~

Absurd? Truly? In our world, most have worshiped the game until it has become a prison; a fatal, self-inflicted blindness.  The philosophies of this world puff up the influence, greatness, and potential of humanity. Our lives are not a linear progression between birth and death, but a web, extending outward, perhaps even heavenward.  Each thought, each word, each step, affecting the lives walking beside and coming after. The headiness of wisdom, the immortal, unquenchable, immutable human spirit has intoxicated the great minds of countless philosophers and sages.

What does it mean to be human? It is a question that has been asked time and again, and has never been satisfactorily answered by science or philosophy.  In the end, man is his own creation, made in the image of the mirage we set before us.  But what if the mirage is emptiness and the image becomes brokenness?

 "All that my eyes desired I did not refuse them. I did not withhold my heart from any pleasure, for my heart was pleased because of all my labor and this was my reward for all my labor. Thus I considered all my activities which my hands had done and the labor which I had exerted, and behold all was vanity and striving after wind and there was no profit under the sun." (Ecc 2:10-11)

meaningless. meaningless.

The oppressiveness of what we understand, but which does not fill; what we seek to know, but cannot find - these things are death to us!  Oh that eyes would be opened to see!  For at last, at the moment of hopelessness, when the prison tower crumbles, there is hope.

This is humanity.  This dash between two dates, this life with its vast web of human connection; of love and hate and dreams; of failure and achievement...  All of it, nothing more than a pin prick in the hand of the Almighty Creator, the Sovereign Judge.  (Dan 4:35)  "Ah," we think with relief, "so small that He would never notice."

no.

that

pin

prick

drove the nails through the hands

of

the

perfect

Lamb

of

God

How foreign, how strange, how disturbing this is to a world that is gorged with self-love.  How astonishing God's words are, that we, being nothing, could be such an offense to Him that He would give Everything to ransom us.  What beauty!  What love beyond compare! 

"O Lord God, You have begun to show Your servant Your greatness and Your strong hand; for what god is there in heaven or on earth who can do such works and mighty acts as Yours?" (Deut 3:24)

The Scent of Lavender

A couple Saturdays ago, I found this green vase at a garage sale.  I seem to have a strong attraction to green glassware.  After scrubbing my find, it sat empty for a while.  My darling Mumsy knows how I love lavender, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a sweet little bouquet on my dresser as I went to bed one night.  I bent over to smell the fresh blossoms... nothing.  How could this be!?  These perfect flowers had just insulted my nose with their lack of scent, and there they sat, smugly smiling up at this poor, disappointed girl.

The next morning I thanked my mom for her thoughtfulness in putting the flowers in my room, and she mentioned that I should crush the blossoms a bit so that they would release their scent.  I did so, and that night I inhaled their fragrance while I had my devotions.  It set me to thinking.  God usually gives me a verse in my head, and I go from there.  This time it was Isaiah 42:3 "A bruised reed He will not break And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish;" If God wishes me to be a fragrant aroma, I too must be crushed.  I must be broken.  The following verses describe well what we are called to be.

"Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma."  (Ephesians 5:1-2)

"For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing." (2 Corinthians 2:15)


The aroma of Christ... what does that mean?  It must mean that we "smell" like Him.  To start with, there are some major clues in the verses above.  We are to be "imitators of God", to "walk in love", to be an "offering and a sacrifice to God", and to share the knowledge of Him with this world.  None of these things, however, can be accomplished if we simply sit like perfect blossoms, untouched and untouchable, entirely content with ourselves, unable to extend grace to those who come near enough to seek the divine aroma.

No, to be these things, we must first be broken.  To be honest, my flesh rebels against that.  I like being right, being strong, being adequate.  But my spirit rejoices in brokenness, because it is life to me.  Never has the Lord turned me away when I have come to Him broken over my sin, realizing again the rawness and reality of my need for the cross.  Always, my wounded heart is bound up, my guilt is forgiven, and I am left with the overwhelming joy of worshiping my Savior with clean hands and a pure heart that were washed by His blood.

I had a couple hours last week to read through Isaiah and journal for a while after I put the little guy I was looking after to bed (who, ironically, is named Isaiah).  Such beautiful promises and gentle rebuke the Lord gave to my heart that night!  Isaiah is one of my favorite books because of how clearly the nature of God is revealed.  His attributes are like a perfect diamond - each facet reflecting and enhancing the others to display the brilliant whole.  That evening, I was given a deeper understanding into God's righteous wrath, perfect justice, and incredible mercy.  The words of scripture are perfect, showing the error of the proud and showing grace and hope to the humble.

"For thus says the high and exalted One
Who lives forever, whose name is Holy,
'I dwell on a high and holy place,
And also with the contrite and lowly of spirit
In order to revive the spirit of the lowly
And to revive the heart of the contrite.'" (Isaiah 57:15)


"Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes
And clever in their own sight!"(Isaiah 5:21)

“For My hand made all these things,
Thus all these things came into being,” declares the LORD.
“But to this one I will look,
To him who is humble and contrite of spirit, and who trembles at My word." (Isaiah 66:2)



To be raised, we must realize our lowness before a great God.  Christ himself is our greatest example.  He humbled himself to the point of His death, to achieve the glorious resurrection of many for the praise of His name.  In my own experience, it is when I feel like I'm doing just fine, when I become self-satisfied, that my relationship with Christ grows shallow.  I begin to forget that everything I am is from Him.  The reason I am writing this today, is because the Lord is reminding me of these very things.  So as I walk into my room tonight, where the crushed lavender is filling the room with the fresh fragrance of death, I will remember that life is poured out of the dying.  The seed of life has been planted in my heart, and "unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." (John 12:24)  That is my prayer for myself and for all to whom His life has been given.

Sitting the Fence and Toeing the Line

How much do you love Me?

That's the question God has been asking of me lately.  The Bible clearly shows how much God loves us.  Romans 5:8 says, "God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."  Most Christians are pretty comfortable with verses like that.  We like to think about the love of God, don't we?  I'm concerned that we often take truths like the love and mercy of God, and forget the rest of the redemption story - the power of His love to transform our lives.  Whereas under the Old Covenant we were under the commands law as a means of achieving a right relationship with God, we can now enter into the New Covenant, bought by the blood of Christ and sealed by the Holy Spirit.

This Covenant was prophesied in Ezekiel 36:26-27. "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.  I will put My Spirit within you and cause you to walk in My statutes, and you will be careful to observe My ordinances."  That newness of life requires the death of us.  The old heart of stone that is bent on "my desires" and "my happiness" must be removed and replaced with the life of Christ planted in us. Paul writes in Galatians 2:20, "I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me." (Also see Titus 2:11-14 and 1 John 1:6-7)

It's a practical reality that you will walk in the direction you are looking.  I know from experience that even if I have set out in a straight line towards my goal, when I begin to look to the left or the right, my feet will begin to unconsciously stray in that direction... and often end up entangling my companions.  When something other than the goal catches your eye, it is all too easy to be enticed by it, even if only by curiosity.  That's not always a bad thing when you're out for a stroll in the park, but if we're talking about a toddler who is blithely chasing butterflies near a cliff, that's another story.

Often when I write, I feel like I'm speaking to myself more than anything.   So please realize that I'm not preaching as someone who has it all together (because that's far from the truth), but more to share what God has been placing on my heart.  The Lord has been reminding me that my heart needs to run to Him, to cling to Him, and to esteem Him above any earthly treasure.  This is all too easy to say, but far more difficult to accomplish because our flesh so often dulls the spirit's response to obey.  Ah, yes, there's the important part!  If we love Him, we will obey Him, as Jesus said in John 14:15.

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This leads to the message the Lord has been leading me to again and again these past weeks.  James 4:4 says it plainly - "You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God."  Oh how convicting those words are!  How often I fail to live with my eyes intently focused on the lasting glory of the King.  So many Christians in our culture are concerned with not "crossing the line", but such an attitude is far from the abundant life Jesus called us to!  Just because we are dutifully toeing the line - going to church, reading our Bible once in a while, and praying before meals - doesn't mean much when the rest of your time is spent flirting with the things of the world.

Our postmodern society likes to live life on the fence.  We look out at that expansive view and like to say we have it all.  "Oh yeah, God's my buddy.  He doesn't mind if I mess around a little - in the end I'm still a good person.  He's a God of love, after all... He wants me to be happy."  On that fence, we can look out and see a world that promises happiness and fulfillment... and a way to somehow get to heaven at the end of it all - and if not, at least to make our own heaven on earth.  "Follow your heart" and "Follow your dreams" are the mantras of today.  Those who preach one Way are dismissed and ridiculed as being judgmental and closed minded.  Elisabeth Elliot sums up that worldly mindset in her book, Passion and Purity, by saying, "Everybody's equal. Everybody's free. Nobody is hung up anymore or needs to deny himself anything. In fact, nobody ought to deny himself anything he wants badly-it's dangerous. It's unhealthy. It's sick. If it feels good and you don't do it, you're paranoid. If it doesn't feel good and you do do it, you're a masochist."  May it be that we would instead obey Christ's call to deny ourselves, take up our cross daily, and follow Him. (Luke 9:23)

One thing that hit me a while ago is that the fence doesn't exist. Do we realize how eternally devastating it is when we are undecided about Christ?  Jesus said, "He who is not with Me is against Me; and he who does not gather with Me scatters." (Matt 12:30) There is no fence... all too soon, those who make their lives there will find it dissolving into an abyss.  The whole idea of justification has been turned upside down to mean that we can do whatever we want.  Rather than being justified by grace through faith and entering into the freedom of being God's slave, many nominal Christians are "justifying" their carnal thirsts as harmless while claiming to follow Christ.

At the end of all this, am I calling Christians to work harder?  To follow stricter rules?  Certainly not!  It's not nearly so simple or so difficult as all that.  It's all about looking towards the goal of our salvation - our Savior Himself.  The radiance of His glory is the only thing we should be running towards, and by His Spirit alone we can be freed from the desires and lusts of sinful flesh.  We are redeemed to be pure reflections of Him.  The question lies in our allegiance.  We cannot serve two masters, nor can we succeed in obeying God while living as if He does not exist.

I know that I must continually put off attitudes of duplicity.  More and more, God is teaching me how wrong it is to justify time spent in worldly pursuits and thought patterns, or time not spent renewing my mind in His word, in prayer, and in praise.  Slowly, faithfully, God is turning me from my spiritual ADD to realize that I must continually be in a spirit of prayer, to be truly captured by His love so that my feet do not stray from His footprints.  I cannot perfect myself, but He is doing the work in me.  So I can joyfully say, "Living for Christ will be the death of me yet!"

Peter's Perspective - The Passover Lamb (Sunday)

Jesus' body had been taken down and buried in the grave of a secret disciple, Joseph of Arimathea.  I spent the Sabbath with John, Mary, and several other disciples in a house just outside the city.  It was now Sunday morning, the first day of the week, and John and I sat on the doorstep of the house in the predawn light, quietly discussing the departed Messiah.

 

John looked up to the distant hills, where the shepherds were already bringing their sheep out to pasture.  "He said He was the Good Shepherd who laid His life down for His sheep."

"How could a shepherd lay his life down as if he was a sheep himself?  Jesus was slaughtered like a passover lamb!"

"He is God, Peter.  Anyone who has heard Him knows it.  Do you remember during the Feast of Dedication, when He said, 'I and the Father are one'?  He said He was giving us eternal life, and that we would never be taken from Him."

"But He has been snatched from us," I said flatly.

John simply looked into the sun and said nothing.  I could tell that he was trying to hold back the emotions of  grief from the way his jaw was working.

He finally looked at me, and said, "When He sent us out, He said, 'not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from your Father.'"  Unshed tears glistened in his eyes and I looked away as the rest of the Jesus' words from that parting speech came to my mind, and pierced my guilty heart.

"Everyone who confesses Me before men, I will also confess him before My Father who is in heaven. But whoever denies Me before men, I will also deny him before My Father who is in heaven... he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me."

As we sat there in silence, a figure were seen running down the road toward the house.  As it drew nearer, I saw that it was Mary of Magdala.  She was weeping and out of breath, but she conveyed her message between sobbing gasps.  "They have taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid Him!"  John and I immediately stood and rushed to the tomb the way she had come, leaving her to catch her breath.  John reached the place of the opened tomb first, and stood looking in.  I quickly caught up and rushed inside.  I was startled to see the linen wrappings neatly folded, and the face-cloth rolled up beside them.  We did not know what to make of this, but returned to the house to tell the other disciples what we had seen.  Mary had again left to mourn at the tomb, but she was seen not long afterward, racing up the road toward the house.  I stepped out to receive her, but instead of sorrow, her face radiated with joy.  "I have seen the Lord!"

Later that evening, we were still reeling with the news of Jesus' appearance to Mary.  All of the disciples kept asking Mary questions like, "Are you sure it was Him?" and "What did He look like?".  We had locked the doors in fear that the Jewish leaders would arrest us if they heard that we were spreading tales of a resurrection.  Even we did not fully believe it.

The meal was almost finished when a man appeared in our midst.  I almost fell from my chair when I saw that it was Jesus.  We all worshiped Him, and praised God, overcome by joy and amazement.  He reproached us for our lack of belief, showing us His hands and side that were pierced.  "The scriptures have said that the Christ would suffer and rise again from the dead the third day, and that repentance for forgiveness of sins would be proclaimed in His name to all the nations, beginning from Jerusalem."  He asked for a piece of fish, and He ate in in front of us, proving that He was indeed alive.

Alive!  Truly alive!  My joy was suddenly stripped from me as I realized that I could never serve Him in the same way again.  I looked down at the table as the others exalted the living Lord.

"Peter."  It was His voice!  So commanding, and yet filled with infinite kindness.  "Peter, do you still not believe?"

He caught the attention of the gathering with a glance, and began to teach us.  "What does the Passover lamb represent?"

John answered, "It was the ransom of the first born in Egypt."

"Yes.  It is a sign of coming redemption of all who are atoned for by its blood.  I am the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world.  Peter, do you believe?"

Oh Lord, help me believe!  I was overcome by the sense of my own guilt and shame before Him, and covered my face helplessly with my hands.  "Peter," He whispered, putting His hand on my shoulder.

"Forgive me," I said brokenly.

"By these wounds, you are healed." He again held his wounded hands out to me.  "What the blood of goats and sheep could not take away, My blood has washed clean."  At these words, it was as if my heart was flooded with light.  Something had changed inside of me, and I knew that I would never be the same.  No longer was I bound to my own strength, but filled with the very power of God.  He had wiped away the former things which bound me to sin and unbelief.

"Peter, you will be my witness to proclaim repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  Just as you have been forgiven, My death is a ransom for all who will look to Me."

Peter's Perspective - The Passover Lamb (Friday)

Sometimes I just have to laugh at myself... I tend to make big plans that never quite work out as I envisioned.  There's a bit too much on my plate right now.  I had planned to write an Easter series that looks at the story from Peter's perspective, but only Thursday's post actually made it to the blog.  I've decided I'm still going to finish the story.  You don't mind, do you? ;)  Peter reminds me so much of myself, which I will elaborate on in the near future.  To be honest, I think it's far too easy to come down from the intensity and spiritual richness of Easter and forget the fact that the glory of the resurrection and the sacrifice of Christ needs to be real and vital to us every day.  With that in mind, please don't pass this over just because it's past Easter.  It is my prayer that the richness of the gospel of Christ would be portrayed through these words, and that I and all who take the time to read will continue to expand in our knowledge of and love for the gracious and glorious Savior!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

After the Passover meal was finished, and our host had been thanked, Jesus led us to the Mount of Olives once again, to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray.  As we left the house, I asked Jesus if Judas would be coming with us, but He simply replied, "He will return when the time comes for the Son of Man to be offered up." 

The sun had already passed beyond the horizon as we climbed the dirt path up to the Mount again, but the gray light still lingered to light our steps.  By the time we reached the garden of Gethsemane, the darkness was complete.  We lit a small fire for warmth and light, and sat huddled around it.  Jesus told the others to stay with the fire, but called James, John, and I to go under the olive trees to pray.  The joy and peace that Jesus had displayed as we sang the Passover Hallel was now overshadowed by a deep sorrow that we did not understand.  He looked up at us, and with pain in His voice, but gently, as if to beseech us, He said, "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me."  He went a little beyond us and fell to the ground, sobbing, "“My Father! Abba! If it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”  He continued in prayer, affirming His desire to do the will of the Father, but obviously overcome with anguish as He considered the coming darkness.  Two times more, He asked that the hour may pass Him by, and then He fell to silence, still kneeling beneath the olive trees.

Our souls were stricken at His prayer. Could it be that His words long ago to us that He would go to Jerusalem and be killed by the elders and scribes were now to come true?  At the time, I had rebuked Him, saying "God forbid it, Lord! This shall never happen to You!"  His response to me was a harsh reproach.  "Get behind Me, Satan!  You are a stumbling block to Me; for you are not setting your mind on God's interests, but on man's."  This time I would not fail Him.  I would not question His words, and I would never leave Him.

Even with the weight of sorrow and strength of resolve, fatigue began to catch up to John and I, who had been on watch the night before.  When Jesus returned to us, we were beginning to drift into sleep, overcome by exhaustion and anguish.  He said to us, "Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not enter into temptation!"  We shook ourselves awake, and as I looked up with sleep-blurred eyes, I was startled to see that the drops of sweat on His forehead glistened red in the light from the fire.

He led us back to the other disciples, who had also dropped into slumber.  Rousing them, He said to us all, calmly now, "Are you still sleeping and resting?  Keep praying.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak."  Looking up into the darkness, He said, as much to Himself as to us, "Look!  The hour is at hand and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. The one who betrays Me is at hand."  Startled, I saw that indeed, a crowd was coming near us in the garden.  Judas, who led them, greeted the Master with a kiss, but then went to stand beside the chief priest.

Stunned with the implications of this turn of events, my first reaction was hatred for the betrayer.  "Traitor!" I hissed.

Jesus, filled with quiet courage, ignored me and said to him, "Friend, do what you have come for."

Friend?

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Rage filled me as they seized Jesus, and I drew my sword.  I would never deny Him!  I would die defending Him!  Blindly, and with a cry of desperation, I struck out at the member of the crowd closest to me, the slave of the priest.  My blade sliced through sinew and cartilage, and his severed ear fell to the ground.  The slave screamed with pain as he grasped his bleeding head. Immediately, guards rushed towards me and the garden erupted into chaos.  I was struggling in the grasp of three Roman soldiers, yelling out threats and curses, when a stunned hush fell over the gathering.  Jesus was walking towards the wounded slave, hands outstretched.  As if they were the ones bound, the pharisees and guards stood watching dumbly as Jesus took the bloody hands of the man I had wounded.  Putting His hand over the flow of blood, He healed him so that his ear was perfectly restored.  The slave looked at the ground, where his old ear lay, and felt the new, perfect skin and cartilage with awe.  Turning, Jesus looked at me. "Put your sword back in its place, for those who take up the sword will perish by the sword.  If I were to ask my Father, He would at once put more than twelve legions of angels at my disposal.  But this is now happening to fulfill the Scriptures of the prophets."

He then turned to the mob, and asked them, "Whom do you seek?"

"Jesus the Nazarene."

"I AM He."  At these words, the name of God, spoken with the very voice of God, the assailants drew back and fell to the ground.  He said to them, "I told you that I AM He, so if you seek me, let my followers go on their way.  I will drink the cup the Father has given Me."

With that, they were again overcome by hate, and bound Him, taking Him into the court of the high priest.  All of us deserted Him in fear of his accusers, but none of us were taken.  John and I followed the cohort at a distance until they reached the court of the priest.  John knew the owner of the house and entered with Jesus, but I remained outside, overcome by fear.  The coming King had been arrested as a common criminal, and my confidence was shattered.  I stood there, slumped dumbly against the door of the outer court, and the darkness within me became greater than the darkness of the night.  Little time had passed before John came out again, begging me to come in to the fire.  I was fearful of being recognized, but I followed him, attempting to warm myself while staying in the shadows as much as possible.  Despite my efforts of concealment, a young servant-girl started as she caught a glimpse of my face from across the fire, and blurted out, "This man was with Him too!"

"I don't know Him - I don't even know what you're talking about!"  It was said too quickly.  My Galilean accent was made even more pronounced with the terseness of my words.

She gave me a strange look, but left to speak to the other men in the courtyard.  Before long, one of them came over to me.  "Surely you are one of the followers of Jesus of Nazareth."

"Sir, I am not."

Another slave came over who was a relative of the man whose ear I cut off.  Standing over me with his arms folded and a scowl on his face, he asked menacingly, "Didn't I see you in the Garden with Him? Even your accent betrays you!"

At the word "betray", I cringed, but I maintained my assertion.  "I don't know the man!" 

The moment the words left my mouth, a cock crowed from just beyond the wall.  I looked up to where Jesus was being led into the courtyard by guards who were preparing to beat Him.  He turned and looked at me, eyes filled with such gentle sadness and reproach that I felt as if I had been dealt a death blow. Overcome with sorrow and shame, I fled from the courtyard and began to weep uncontrollably.  "Oh, forgive me Lord!  Forgive me!  What have I done?"

How could I even cry out to Him? I was utterly undeserving... nothing but dust.  Nay!  Worse than dust - I was the vilest offense; a stench, a worm, and not a man. 

What unfolded in those hours, I cannot now tell, but from sunrise to well into the day I numbly wandered the streets of Jerusalem as if I were in a dream.  The city of promise had become a city of death to me, and by my denial, I knew that I too had betrayed the Lord, the Son of God.  I, who had been so bold in my assertion of loyalty, was now stripped of all pride and forever separated from the Lord I loved.  At noon, the sun was strangely darkened, though there was not a cloud in the sky, and I knew that this was a sign from God.  The streets were now empty, as if the citizens dreaded some strange omen.  A man was coming towards me from a gate in the city, groping in the peculiar darkness, dressed in the robes of a temple official.  I recognized him as one of the men who had arrested my Lord.  "Where is Jesus?" I croaked through parched lips.

He spat on the ground and squinted at me in derision.  "Nailed to a cross on the Place of the Skull, where He belongs.  And who are you that you should ask?"  Overcome by a wave of nausea, I did not answer him, but brushed past to make my way to Golgotha, the place favored by the Romans to hang criminals sentenced to crucifixion.  When I arrived there, it was nearly three o'clock.  Three men hung on the cross-shaped instruments of torture, and a small gathering of men and women stood or knelt before them in grief.  John was there, kneeling with his arm around Mary, the mother of Jesus, who shook with sobs.  At first I did not recognize the man who hung in the middle, because he was so disfigured by bruises and bleeding wounds.  With a gasping sob, I realized that it was Jesus who was lifted up there to die.  How could it be?  With amazement, I saw Him push Himself up to draw in a ragged breath as He cried, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"  He fought for a few more precious breaths with which He said His last words, "It is finished!  Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."  As His limp head fell to His chest, the earth shook, and even the Roman soldiers said that "this man was surely the Son of God."  I had crucified the Son of God.

Peter's Perspective - The Passover Lamb (Thursday)

It was the night before Passover.  We were tired; tired of the jostling crowds who came out to hear the words of the Master in the temple and to receive healing, tired of the growing sense of hostility against Jesus, and tired of waiting for the Messiah to take His rightful place as the ruler of Israel.  Nonetheless, all of us were feeling the building anticipation.  Jesus' replies to his critics were stunning in their wisdom, but we knew there were some who sought His death.  Some might have expected an aspiring King to compromise with the temple rulers, but we knew that the Messiah would never form an allegiance with such corrupt pharisees and Herodians.  He was preparing us, His followers, to fill those roles as the new leaders of the coming Kingdom.  Still, the suspense was emotionally and physically draining.  We had been going at night to our camp on the Mount of Olives, which was a peaceful retreat from the tension of Jerusalem, but the disciples looked forward to soon living in a palace - or at least spending the night under a roof again.  John and I had volunteered to be on watch, and it seemed that the land had been sentenced to a long imprisonment under the darkness of that night.  Finally, the horizon began to fade to gray.

As the morning sun slowly dawned, the red light spread over the eastern hill country beyond Jerusalem until it looked like the all the blood of Bethlehem's lambs had been spilled over the landscape.  Being from Galilee, we would commemorate Passover tonight, being Thursday.  We asked Jesus, "Where do You want us to prepare for You to eat the Passover?"  He told us to go into the city and speak to a man who we would see carrying a pitcher of water.  Just as He foretold, the man met us as we entered the city, and we said, as we had been commanded, "The Teacher says, 'My time is near; I am to keep the Passover at your house with My disciples.'"  The man left his task and led us to his house, where he gave us the upper room in which to gather that evening.

John and I bought a lamb in the market place and brought it to the temple.  The court was teeming with people who brought their fearfully bleating lambs to the altar.  Many laughed and talked with their neighbors in the long line to the place of sacrifice.  Some stood near stalls that sold the lambs nearest to the temple, haggling over the inflated prices, and disgustedly handing over the sum for the obligatory sacrifice.  As we approached the place of sacrifice, the smell of blood became sickening.  Hundreds were being sacrificed that evening, and hundreds more would be sacrificed tomorrow by the Judeans.  Our lamb having been slain, and its blood sprinkled on the altar, we brought it back with us to be roasted for the Passover meal.

As evening fell, and the aroma of roast lamb filled every street and corridor in the city, Jesus and the other ten disciples arrived at the house where we were staying.  Looking back, I can see that we were so blind then.  During the meal in the upper room, we again brought up the dispute of who would be the greatest in the Kingdom.  I had finally succeeded in drowning out the argument of my opponent when I realized that a hush had fallen over the room.  The Master had removed His robe, and with a towel around His waist, He was stooping to wash John's feet.  We were all in shock, struck by the impropriety of the action; the base humility of it.  This was a servant's job!  John initially pulled his feet away, eyes filled with questioning bewilderment.  Jesus looked up into his face, and something John saw there must have led him to acquiesce.  He next came to me, and set the basin down before my dirty, smelly feet.  As usual, I was the first to find my voice.  "Never shall you wash my feet!" At His next words, I felt the sting of His gentle reproof.  "Peter, if I do not wash you, you have no part with me."  When He had washed all of our feet, we reclined again at the table and He disclosed the purpose of His actions, saying "If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet."
As we ate the bitter herbs, the Lord began to speak of a betrayer in our midst - a thought that was bitter indeed to our ears.  He said to us, with great sadness, "One of you will betray me - one who is eating with Me."  We were all struck with grief, and I was the first to protest, "Surely not I, Lord!"  The others joined in with their denial of the charge.  John was sitting next to Jesus, and I asked him, "Who is He talking about?" He leaned over and asked the Lord, whom I heard to quietly say, "It is the one to whom I give this piece."  He dipped a choice piece of bread into the herbs and gave it to Judas, who was sitting near Him, in a place of honor.  Jesus spoke quietly to Judas, and he quickly left, and we assumed he had been sent on an errand.

Proceeding with the meal, Jesus broke bread and passed it to us, saying that it was His broken body.  After supper, He took the cup, saying that it was His blood of the New Covenant.  At that time, we still did not fully understand these things, but I was beginning to feel, for the first time, the sense that there were great and terrible things to come of Jesus' words.  I felt a thrill of the glory and the sorrow of something in the Teacher's voice that I could not yet imagine.  After the meal, He taught us, addressing each one with love and exhortation.  When He turned to me, He said, "Simon, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers." (Luke 22:31-32)

Together, when the time had come to sing the last Hallel, we lifted up our voices, singing the words of the Passover Psalm,

The stone which the builders rejected
         Has become the chief corner stone.
 This is the LORD'S doing

It is marvelous in our eyes.
    This is the day which the LORD has made;
         Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
    O LORD, do save, we beseech You;
         O LORD, we beseech You, do send prosperity!
    Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD;
         We have blessed you from the house of the LORD.
  The LORD is God, and He has given us light. (Psalm 118)

Dying of Cancer

Western society is dying of cancer - and most of us don't even know it. North America is falling.  We are being ravaged by a terminal illness - the Cancer of apathy.

The church is not immune to this disease; indeed, professing Christians are often among the most affected.  In North America, the true church is smaller than ever, while mega-churches run by emergent leaders like Rob Bell, Rick Warren, and Joel Osteen are drawing in millions of seekers. 

The Western church is standing on false promises and promoting a false gospel.  Will you and I sit idly by while so many are being consumed by their appetites?  There are so many who are truly hungering to be filled and healed.  Our society is covering a fatal wound with the band-aid of health-and-wealth teaching.  So many are proclaiming that we have all the power we need within ourselves, and that we must believe that God will give us everything our hearts desire - because we deserve it.  Dear friends, we deserve nothing - nothing but judgment and an eternity in hell.  Christ truly is the only Healer and Redeemer.  The only true freedom comes in giving up everything and grasping onto the one saving truth that God loved us enough to ransom us with the blood of His Son.  We are not beautiful.  He is.  We are not entitled to wealth or health - but God has granted us the greatest treasure: the Lord Jesus Christ.


Let us not be "godless like Esau, who for a single meal sold his inheritance rights as the oldest son. Afterward, as you know, when he wanted to inherit this blessing, he was rejected. Even though he sought the blessing with tears, he could not change what he had done." (Hebrews 12:16-17)  So many have sold their eternal inheritance for things that will perish, and have likewise perished.  May it not be so for us!

"Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. 'Make level paths for your feet,' so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed."(Hebrews 12:12-13) 

God has blessed us with a great abundance of material things, but we must throw off everything that seeks to entangle us.  "Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world. The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever." (1 John 2:15-17)

I am so often convicted of complacency and apathy in my own life, both in my response to sin in my own life, and to those who are perishing.  It is staggering to think that the Holocaust was caused just as much by the complacency of the Allied countries as by the brutality of the Nazis.  Are we standing idly by in the face of a spiritual holocaust?  Today, I look at our society, and I see little source to hope that the free world will stand in the event of any approaching calamity.  Western civilization has thrown away the anchor of faith and biblical principles that was set down by our founders. 

We have lost sight of the goal for which God has called us heavenward!  As Christians, this should concern us.  In the midst of programs and social gospels, have we forgotten Christ, our first love?  What do we feel when we hear the faith stories of Christian martyrs like Stephen (Acts 6-7), Vivia Perpetua, or Richard Wurmbrant? We too should be laying our lives down on behalf of others, for the sake of Christ!

Christians in this culture have experienced the "frog in boiling water" phenomenon - we have become so influenced by this world that we have become lukewarm and detestable to God.  This complacency and acceptance of worldly values should not be! I pray that it would not be so in my life.  May we be willing to hold out the message of the cross with confidence, no matter what the cost, because it is the only cure to those who are being consumed by spiritual cancer.

Christmas Melodies

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He would give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

For many, Christmas is all about warm fuzzy feelings. It's about being with family and having "chestnuts roasted o'er an open fire".  We dream of a white Christmas, remembering the times of old.  These things are not inherently bad, but for Christians this should not be the focus of our the holiday.  True, Christ was probably not born on December 25th, but we remember Jesus' birth for a reason- so that we would not become caught up in a "winter wonderland" but in the "wonders of His love".  We should focus, this season and every season, on the gift of God who sent Christ to the world, coming in the likeness of sinful flesh, to save us.  He came as the perfect, spotless lamb of God, to carry our sins upon him and wash them away with his blood.  We are unworthy of the gift of His life! Oh so unworthy!  But he came to us, meek and lowly, to heal, to bind up the broken, to be the Good Shepherd, to convict and rebuke, and ultimately to suffer and to die for my sin.  For your sin.  I feel helpless to adequately convey how astonishing this is!  He was perfect and he was complete.  God is in no way dependent on us.  He could have wiped away the blight of the human race from the earth with a word, but instead he took compassion on us, vile and hateful as we were, and died for us- while we were yet rejecting him!

So I pray that you and yours would have a wonderful Christmas- a Christmas caught up in the wonder of Christ's sacrifice which washed us white as snow.  Isaiah 1:18b - "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool."