Holy Week: Enabled to Trust

Every time I think about the Saturday after the crucifixion, I have to wonder what the disciples were thinking. Each one of them had followed the call, to give up everything and follow their Messiah, to become fishers of men. They had left their families, dreams and careers to pursue the one they believed was the Son of God. This man was the Promised One from God; He was the Savior, who would set His people free, break every chain, rescue the oppressed, and bring triumph over their captors. And now, He was dead.

One of the hardest things about being a follower of Jesus is that we don't know the plan. Many of us are willing to follow Jesus... some even to the extent that the disciples did. We know He has a plan for us, and we have given everything to follow that plan. And suddenly, the door closes.

Gladys Aylward had given everything, to follow the calling of God to be a missionary to China. She knew this was the plan He had for her... but the door was shut. At age 27, she was dismissed from Missionary training school for failing her Bible class. But Gladys had a resolve, through the power of the cross, that nothing could could stop God's plan... not her own failures, not the world's agenda, and not even death. She chose to follow and seek Him, in spite of all the improbabilities of this plan being fulfilled. And as a result of her radical abandonment and trust, she rescued hundreds of lost Chinese souls, and became one of the greatest spiritual warriors of all time.

God may shut doors. I've seen Him do it in my own life. But I have also seen the fact that, if this is truly His plan, He will open an even more glorious passageway.

In this case?  An empty tomb.

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Worship Song: 

"I Will Follow",
by Chris Tomlin

Holy Week: Enabled to Forgive

"I am broken,

I am wounded,

I am wretched and ashamed.

And a harlot,

Is like a chain around my neck; 

It's my name."

We were loved. We were cherished. We were given life. And we rejected its supernatural Giver.

I sold myself to the world. Even while calling myself a Christian, I surrendered the most sacred parts of my spiritual life to another lover. I pursued fulfillment in the eyes of people, even though I innately knew that true fulfillment could only come from Him. I took the deepest longings of my heart, and set them on things of the world. In Him, I was loved... but somehow, that was not enough. I threw it away; I became a harlot.

Growing up in the church, we are so used to the message of forgiveness, and the fact that we have been forgiven. I think many of us have subconsciously come to think that we deserved it. But let's make something perfectly clear: all we deserve is death. We have sold ourselves to other lovers; we have betrayed the one who breathed life into our lungs. Even on this side of the cross, we continue to reject the offer of a victorious lifestyle in Him, because we are still clinging hopelessly to our idols.

The cross was ours. We know the physical torture it brought, but it is so easy to skim over the fact that we deserved that death. We betrayed Him. It was our sin that caused Him to bleed. It was our unfaithfulness that drove the nails into His wrists. It was our idolatry that put Him on the cross.

But He forgave you.  He forgave me; He offers to take us back. He offers new life to all who ask. More than that, He offers a chance to forgive those who have wronged us. Whether it's an unkind word, or death itself, we have the enabling power to cry out with Him:  "Father forgive them; they know not what they do."

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Worship Song: 

"The Harlot (Spontaneous)",
by Misty Edwards

Holy Week: Enabled to Pray

Thirteen men entered the Garden of Gethsemane one Thursday night 2,000 years ago. Thirteen men believed in God that night. Thirteen men had made the claim that they would die for Him.

But only one did.

The night before the event that would become the climax of all history, thirteen men were called to pray. But only Jesus followed the call. The other twelve fell asleep, overcome by their own weakness. But Jesus wrestled in prayer, until drops of blood formed on His forehead. He knew what was coming, and the horror that He was about to experience. He also knew that the only thing that would carry Him would be prayer. In the words of E.M. Bounds:

"The prayers of God's saints are the capital stock in heaven by which Christ carries on His great work upon earth. The great throes and mighty convulsions on earth are the results of these prayers. Earth is changed, revolutionized, angels move on more powerful, more rapid wings, and God's policy is shaped as the prayers are more numerous, more efficient. It is true that the mightiest successes that come to God's cause are created and carried on by prayer."

Jesus understood the power of prayer more deeply than anyone else. But what amazes me the most is the way He prayed. John 17 gives a powerful glimpse into the prayer closet of God's own son.  When He was faced with death, His cry was: "Not my will, but Thine".  Then, instead of mourning the pain He was about to encounter, He lifted up the other twelve, who were too weak to stand with Him, in intercession. And then, He prayed for us; for all that would believe because of their testimony.

Our prayers are often so weak; they can so easily become self-centered. As Americans, we pray for safety and prosperity, when we are the safest, most prosperous nation in the world. Where are the Acts 4 prayers, of believers crying out for boldness to speak God's word without fear?  Where are the 1 Kings 18 prayers, where we would wrestle until we see the victory, even when it looks as though none would come?  Where are the John 17 prayers, that would focus outwardly on those around us, even in our moments of deepest need?

I know that so often, they're missing in my life. But I also know that when Jesus prayed for us, He did not leave us powerless in our own prayer lives. In Him, we can intercede; we can wrestle; we can see victory through prayer.

Thirteen men entered the Garden that night. But through the enabling power of the cross, those other twelve, though they were weak, would not always have to remain that way; the cross empowered them to pray, to wrestle until the breaking of day.

On this side of the cross, our prayers lives can be victorious.

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Worship Song: 

"Grace Like Rain",
by Todd Agnew

Holy Week: Enabled to Serve

"I guarantee you, Tass is willing to help!  He'd even even clean the floor tiles with a toothbrush, if you needed him to!"

Tass Saada nodded his agreement; he genuinely wanted to serve. After converting to Christianity, Tass had gone from being a huge business owner and city-dweller to a low-paid member of a church staff in an unknown small town in the Midwest. It had a difficult transition, but he prayed for faith and a willingness to follow God's plan for him. Little did he know how low he would have to bend.

The next morning, Tass showed up to work.... and was handed a toothbrush to clean the floor tiles. His anger nearly erupted at the humiliating task; of course he wasn't really willing to stoop so low! Surely there were more distinguished ways to further the Kingdom of heaven.

I don't think Tass was the first one to feel this way. So often, I see the same mindset enter my own life; I'm willing to serve... if it furthers my self-image, and if the work isn't too degrading or difficult. I convince myself that I would be willing to clean floor tiles with a toothbrush, if that was what God wanted from me. But, in my heart, I have implicitly set a standard for how low I will bend, and I refuse to go further.

Many of us genuinely want to serve God, and the people around us. But have we set a limit to how far we will bend?  Who am I, to say God can use me, but then define the terms and conditions of how He will use me?

It is so humbling to look at the life of Jesus. When He came into the world, He took the lowest place; a helpless, dependent, tiny infant born in a cave with animals. He was the King of the universe, the Prince of Peace, the one seated at the right hand of the Father, to whom was given all power and glory and dominion over all the earth..... and yet He came down and washed our feet.

How could we refuse to do the same?

Later that week, Tass would reflect on the task. As he washed floors in the kitchen, he remembered that boys would come in and talk to him. They were intrigued by his stories of war, and the life he lived before he immigrated to the United States. One boy was touched so deeply that he took an interest in the church Tass served; later, he was saved. God had a glorious plan for that seemingly degrading task; He will work through a willing servant in ways that we may never see, but that are beyond imagination.

5 "In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

6 Who, being in very nature God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature[b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!"

-Philippians 2:5-8

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Worship Song: 

"Killing Me with Mercy",
by Misty Edwards

Holy Week: Enabled to Love

The throngs of people overwhelmed me, as I neared the shores of the Ganges River in India for the first time at age 11. Men and women of all ages were stepping into the dirty waters that flowed past. As they emerged, a mark was painted on their forehead, to signify the "spiritual cleansing" they had just received. The noise of the unknown language was mingled with shouts of joy from thousands of people, and I could feel my head swimming. A man with a terrifying face painted blood-red approached my cousin from behind, and said he needed to tell him something. Women with bowls of paint kept running up, in an attempt to make the mark of cleansing on my forehead. Beggar children wove in and out of the crowds, offering to pray for anyone who would give them money.

"When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd."

-Mark 6:34

The ministry Jesus had on earth is marked by one main characteristic: Love. When He saw the throngs of people surrounding Him, He didn't just see a group of people... He saw individuals, whom He loved. He saw the lost, who could be found. He saw His Beloved, who had fallen under oppression. He stretched out His hands, and healed those who were sick. He spoke one word, and freed those who were possessed. He saw their need, and taught those who were thirsty. He didn't just see a crowd of people; He reached out, and healed individuals. He took time, in the midst of the crowd, to stop for one centurion, one leper, one bleeding woman. His heart was overwhelmed with love for each individual; it was not His father's will that even one should perish. He overlooked no one who came to Him.

I am so convicted when I look at my own life... how I fail to love even those closest to me, much less one stranger in a crowd. How quickly I forget that I was that stranger; that I was lost in the sea of faces; that I was unknown, and unloved. But in Christ, we are found, and loved beyond imagination. And we are empowered to love as He did.

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Worship Song: 

"You Don't Miss a Thing",
by Amanda Cook (Bethel Music)

Holy Week: Unlocking the Promise

On this side of the cross, we can walk in freedom. The enabling power of God is available, to conform us to His image, and free us from our chains. Jesus Himself gave us the key to unlocking this promise in our lives, in John 15:

"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love."

(-John 15:9)

One thing that strikes me specifically about the life of Jesus was the way He routinely withdrew to a quiet place, alone, to spend time in the presence of His Father. Before Jesus walked on water, He had been alone on a mountain, communing with God. When the crowds overwhelmed Him, he withdrew to the place of intimacy. He was fully aware of His Father's love, and He chose to abide in it. The cross created a house marked by blood, and in that house, even the angel of death itself had to pass by. In Christ, no force of destruction that could get to Him can get to you. The door to the house is open; the love has been poured forth, and Jesus Himself has called you to come away with Him.

On this side of the cross, the veil is torn. That same intimacy Jesus experienced with His father has been extended to us. We are no longer slaves of sin, but sons of righteousness. We are enabled, through Him.

The God of the universe poured out His life for you; you ravish His heart with one glance of your eye. Everything you need for life and Godliness is hidden in His heart. Remain in His love. He has called you by name; come away with Him.

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Worship Song: 

"In the Secret",
by Chris Tomlin

Enabled: The Work of the Cross

Defeat. n. the state of being conquered. (Webster's Standard Dictionary, 2006)

How often have we seen this in our own lives?  Defeat has knocked on my door more times than I can even remember. I've lost debate rounds. I've failed to break. I've lost memory of my piece in piano competitions. I've experienced some defeat in every endeavor I've entered, in one way or another. But more importantly, I've been defeated in my spiritual life. I've failed to love well. I've failed to be the hands of Christ. I've failed to pray. I've failed to guard my heart. I've failed to fight sin. I've stood face to face with the Enemy, and allowed him into my heart. I have been conquered by what I have done, and what I have failed to do.

I don't think there is anyone, who truly feels the weight of sin, that doesn't want to be freed from it. I remember a couple months ago, I realized that I was capable of hurting people. I had always been aware of it, but there was something about that realization that made my heart skip a beat. I was capable of breaking someone to pieces. I was capable of tearing people down, even when I didn't realize I was doing it. No one was "safe" from me. I had hurt people, and I could never undo it. I can think of so many of you reading this right now, whom I have hurt, consciously or unconsciously. What scared me the most about that realization was the fact that I had hurt some people intentionally. At times, I had even enjoyed it in some way. I felt so broken... so conquered by what sin had been able to do through me. And in my own strength, there was nothing I could do.

How quickly we forget that we are living on this side of the cross. That we don't have to live in our own strength anymore. That the enabling power of the cross has freed us to live the life that Christ gave us. I think the main reason we forget is that we don't truly stop to think about what it cost to save us... what it meant to take the nails.

Jesus, throughout the gospels, is called the "Lamb of God". While this sounds like a friendly, soft term, the significance runs much more deeply... this man was born to die. His life's purpose was wrapped around the two beams of wood, to which his hands and feet would be nailed. He would have to take the full wrath of God upon Himself. I don't think any of us truly comprehends the fullness of God's wrath... I don't think we ever can. Throughout the Old Testament, we see glimpses of the Father's righteous anger, and the just punishment He has for His people, but even then, we can't see the complete picture. Jesus Christ was the only man to ever walk the earth, who truly understood the wrath of God, and the horror of what it meant, to whomever it was poured out upon. And He took the full blow upon Himself, for us. I can never begin to comprehend the horror of the cross, but Isaiah 52-53 gives a glimpse of what would happen to the suffering Messiah. "His appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any human being and his form marred beyond human likeness." (Is. 52:14b)

And yet the physical suffering was incomparable to the spiritual agony He endured. It is astonishing, to look at the first lines of Psalm 22, and realize it is God's own son crying out: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"  This is love, that the Father would turn His back on His son, so that He would never have to turn His back on us. This is love, that Jesus Christ would lay down His life for us.

The cross was not just for the forgiveness of sin. Its power extended to the very fabric of our lives, that if we, as Paul writes in Romans 6, would enter into Christ's death and be resurrected with Him, we would experience new life, and the enabling power to live it. Through the cross, we are enabled to live in the light of Jesus. We are enabled to have victory over sin, for no longer are we slaves to sin, but sons of righteousness. We are no longer bound by what once held us. We are no longer conquered by the Enemy. We are no longer in a state of defeat. We no longer are forced to fall back into those patterns of sin and destruction. We have been bought with the precious blood of Jesus, and we have the supernatural ability to walk in freedom, through Christ.

Every moment we continue to live under the power of defeat, we are saying no to the sacrifice God made. Every day we continue to exist as slaves of sin, we are refusing the enabling power that has been given to us, and cheapening the cross. This final week of Lent, let it not be said of us that we refused the full measure of the work of the cross. On this side of the cross, the Holy Spirit has made our hearts His temple. We are stewards of the mysteries of God. We are the tabernacle, and the veil is torn; we have open access to the throne room of heaven.

We have been enabled to live beyond.

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Worship Song: 

"True Love"
by Phil Wickham