Out of Focus

Somewhere between one Easter and the next, the cross tends to grow a little fuzzy to me. It’s not that my faith wanes, or Jesus’ sacrifice for me is diminished in any way. But we dash on to Pentecost, then through the Christian calendar to Advent and Christmas and before we know it, it’s Lent and we’re rounding the corner to Easter on two wheels again.

So tonight, as I knelt at the altar during our Good Friday service, I saw the cross move into focus like a slide projected on a screen in my mind. And I prayed the prayer author Anne Lamott freed me to pray every time I’m on my knees: “Thank You, thank You, thank You!” I want so badly to love Him more, to serve Him with abandon, and to let Him fill up the empty places in my heart that I’m so busy trying to fill with other things.

Besides a crystal clear image of the cross in my mind’s eye, I also left church tonight with a question that lingered from the shadow play our Youth presented. (And as an aside, they never cease to amaze me. What a tremendous loss for people who don’t see how genuine our kids are and how deep their faith runs.) The question on my heart tonight, taken from one of the Stations of the Cross, is this:

When have I carelessly nailed someone else to the cross?

Idle gossip that spreads like a wildfire...a reply that barely holds back anger...a judgmental heart that doesn’t see the big picture... It’s so easy to fall into the trap, and the worst part is that we don’t even usually realize we’ve done it. But there’s no justification. There’s only Christ on the cross, his heart grieved by our callous treatment of each other.

I want to drop my mallet and nails at the foot of His cross, and let His mercy wash over me like sweet spring rain. And I’m so very thankful that His cross makes that possible. As my friend Beth reminded me, “It’s Friday...but Sunday’s coming!”

For God alone my soul waits in silence, for my hope is from Him. ~ Psalm 62:1 (NRSV)

Spring Cleaning

www.thomasmichaelcorcoran.com

I grew up in the Methodist church but never observed the Lenten season until I was an adult. I'm not sure why that was, but I've since grown to appreciate Lent as my personal invitation to draw close to God again, and invite Him into the parts of my life that have become dusty, cluttered, or downright dysfunctional over time. The miracle of Easter is so much more real when I allow God to do some extra work on me during the six weeks prior to Resurrection Sunday.

So I went to our Ash Wednesday service this week and once again began my personal pilgrimage to Easter. I liked that Pastor Jim compared the cross he imposed on our foreheads to a “paid in full” stamp. But it also struck me that the cross is the great equalizer—a symbol of the debt of gratitude we all owe but can't come close to repaying. It may be the greatest irony of all, that the cross means I have a zero balance and, at the same time, that I owe Jesus my life. I call it the consequence of grace.

Sometimes I give something up for Lent; other times I don’t. Occasionally it seems more appropriate to take something up for Him, rather than lay something down. One definition I found for the word Lenten was, "suggesting Lent, as in austerity, frugality, or rigorousness; meager." While I understand the concept of sacrifice, it has to have a purpose. There's no point in putting something aside for six weeks just to pick it back up after Easter and go on as if nothing is different. The first Easter changed everything, and every Easter we celebrate should change us.

For me, the point of Lent is to make room for more of what He wants to give me. It's all about less of me and more of Him...a spring cleaning of the heart if you will. And the riches of His blessings promise to make this season of life anything but austere and meager.

"He must become greater; I must become less." ~ John 3:30 (NIV)

To Believe

Often things are not as they appear to be. For example, these three girls were looking fine in 1997, but they were nowhere near as grown up as they were pretending to be. Over the years I’ve watched Courtney, Caitlynn, and Hannah all grow into beautiful young women, although they still aren’t quite grown up yet and I doubt they will ever dress like this, even when they are. (Hannah, far right, says she would wear animal print flats, but that's about it.)

The older I become, the more firmly I believe we have to go through Holy Week to get to Easter. We have to put ourselves in the picture with Jesus and His disciples during this Holy Week to understand the magnitude of the gift of Easter. And things certainly were not as they appeared during that week that changed the world forever.

What appeared to be a triumphant march into Jerusalem on the very day Jewish families everywhere chose their perfect Passover lamb was, in reality, a death march. What seemed like a typical Passover meal in an upstairs room turned into a last supper. What masqueraded as a fair trial was actually a thinly disguised plan to placate an angry mob and get Pontius Pilot off of the hook politically. And what seemed like the end of all of His followers' hopes and dreams, with the Christ hanging on a cross between two thugs on a hill at Golgatha, was in truth our saving grace.

Was it any wonder the disciples were confused right up to the very end? Even though Jesus told them everything that would happen well in advance, it was simply unfathomable that He would be crucified. After all, He was God incarnate…the Messiah they had been anxiously awaiting...even though that was not how He appeared to everyone.

And so it’s no surprise that when it was apparently all over, and Jesus was sealed in His tomb, it seemed as if the final chapter had been written. And when then women found that the stone had been rolled away on what we call Easter morning, it certainly seemed as if someone had stolen His body. I can’t imagine their heartbreak in that moment. But then, in the greatest coda ever written in the history of man, the angel proclaimed Jesus’ resurrection, and turned their world (and ours) upside down.

On this Good Friday, I’m reminded of a message I haven’t heard in a long time. Tony Campolo’s signature sermon is titled, “It’s Friday But, Sunday’s Coming,”, and you can listen to it here. It’s a wonderful reminder to anyone who can’t see beyond what entangles them today. No matter how bad things may seem, if you will look beyond the tomb, you’ll see the reality of Easter. I promise you, Sunday’s coming!

To Believe (John 19-23, The Message)

Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but, fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, "Peace to you." Then he showed them his hands and side.

The disciples, seeing the Master with their own eyes, were exuberant. Jesus repeated his greeting: "Peace to you. Just as the Father sent me, I send you."

Then he took a deep breath and breathed into them. "Receive the Holy Spirit," he said. "If you forgive someone's sins, they're gone for good. If you don't forgive sins, what are you going to do with them?"