"For You": Finding Grace in Life's Storms

Grace and peace to you. Or in the Greek- χάρις ὑμῖν καὶ εἰρήνη. I say this because I hope you will remember the love and grace that God gives us through his son, Jesus Christ. I also hope that your Thanksgivings were full of family, joy, love, and of course full of gratitude for the blessings you enjoy.

I love this time of year. Next week begins the season of Advent which is one of my favorite parts of the liturgical calendar because we prepare for the arrival of Jesus Christ and our much beloved Christmas story… not to mention it’s a time of year where I can indulge in large amounts of good food without the guilt. We also start to look at the beginning of the next year. We think of what we hope will happen in 2019, plans we have made, trips we might take, and other wonderful things. We also look over our shoulders at the things that have happened in 2018. We think of our favorite events, new friendships, new job opportunities and all manner of good things that have happened to us. It is also a time for self-reflection, reassessing our beliefs, our walk as Christians, and our relationship with our Creator. 

Such introspection can also create a time of deep repentance where we reflect on our own weaknesses, shortcomings, and temptations. We are taking a personal inventory concerning our walks as followers of Christ. Are we acting as we should? Are we reaching out to whom we should? Are we living out our faith as we should? These are serious yet appropriate questions to be asking any time of year but even more so this time of year. However, there is also a great risk, especially if we find ourselves wanting. It is then when we tend to be at our most vulnerable and Satan loves that, and he will wait for the perfect moment to strike. He will fill our heads with reminders of our sins and vices to remind us that we are unworthy. He pulls us into the darkness so he can extinguish God’s light within us by inspiring us to feel depression, anger, and even in severe cases- self-loathing.

This self-loathing can stem from so many things. Through the years, there have been so many Christian men and women who have given to despair out of shame for feeling weak during the storms of life or what St. John of the Cross described as “The Dark Night of the Soul”. The Dark Night of the Soul is described as “a period of spiritual desolation in which all sense of consolation is removed”. In many Christian circles, feelings of melancholia are viewed as something to be avoided. It’s a manifestation of ingratitude, weakness, lack of faith, and ego. The criticism is even harsher for those who have been called to serve God as pastors, priests, and other Christian leaders. Brothers and Sisters in Christ, I would ask you to consider the story of the prophet Elijah who did feel despair and grief. We all know this man as a mighty prophet who never tasted the bitter-sweet nectar of death. He began and ended a three-year drought through prayer, was fed by ravens, kept a mother and her child from death by instructing her to use a little of her last bit of grain to feed him. Yet despite all these amazing events, Elijah still felt darkness, he still experienced storms in his life. When he had to flee from the court of Jezebel, he tasted bitter failure. He felt sorrow and was even suicidal. 1 Kings 19 shares this suicidal ideation with us: “But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors. (1 Kings 19:4)”’ Clearly, God didn’t grant his servant’s prayer and sent angels to minister to Elijah. However, this was one of many times Elijah felt the attack of the enemy.

It is during such an attack that God shows His most tender mercies. The word grace is often interpreted in a variety of ways, but I would like to boil it down two simple words- mercy and love. As Ephesians 2: 4-5 says: But God who is rich in mercy, out of great love with which he loved us even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ-by grace you have been saved- and raised us up with him and seated us with him in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the ages to come he might show immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.

If anyone knew what grace was, it was the man who wrote these beautiful words. They are the words of someone we once knew as Saul of Tarsus. The man who rounded up men, women, and children who believed in Christ and dragged them back to Jerusalem for a summary or kangaroo trial and immediate execution. This was the man who even at his darkest moment experienced the love and mercy of God. When he was on his way to Damascus, grace found him. He saw the Jesus of Nazareth who he until that moment had despised. Jesus asked him the simple question- “Saul, Saul why do you persecute me?” before blinding him. But He didn’t abandon Saul, He made sure that Saul could find his way to where he needed to go. As we know, this man would later become Paul and he eventually became a light to many while preaching of the grace that found him on the road to Damascus. In his first letter to Timothy, he wrote: “I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has strengthened me, because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus (1 Timothy 1: 12-14)”.

A blasphemer, a persecutor, a man of violence, the worst of all sinners. These are the words Paul used to describe Saul-his former self. If you think about it, this sort of thing goes straight to the modus operandi of Christ. He would reach out to those who society had determined were the worst of them.
He reached out to Zacchaeus, a chief tax collector of great wealth and short stature. Who climbed up a tree, not only because he wouldn’t be able to see Jesus from the back of the crowd, but because he felt unworthy. He wasn’t an accepted member of society and his heart was full of all the reasons he wasn’t worthy to be in the presence of the Messiah. However, Jesus looked up and saw him hiding in the branches and asked him to get out of that tree, so Jesus could go to Zacchaeus’ house and dine with him. That moment of grace changed Zacchaeus and he lived a completely different life because of it.

He reached out to a woman who had to draw her water in the heat of day because her village rejected her as an outcast. She lived a sinful life, she was even living with a man who wasn’t her husband. But Jesus knew all of that, he even gently brought up her sexual immorality and didn’t condemn. He didn’t condone her past actions, but he embraced her where she was and offered her something better.

Grace is just that. Being met where we are and being loved. Jesus didn’t reach out his hand to people when they were at their best. He loved them when they were at their worst. Grace doesn’t come from works, as Paul wrote to the parish of Ephesus. It comes from the love of God who so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son. John 3:16 is a passage most Christians are familiar with, it’s usually the first piece of scripture we memorize but its message has depth. John speaks to the depth of God’s love and the extension of His grace: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” God loves us so much, he sent his only son, who was without fault, to die for us. Jesus wasn’t sent to condemn the world, but to save it when it is at its worst.

During this Autumn season, some of you might be where Saul, Zacchaeus, and the Samaritan woman were. You might be sitting in this room right now being reminded of what is lacking in you. I am often there myself. During the 2017 Lenten season, I was at my lowest and felt as disconnected from God as I could get. I felt that despair and self-loathing that many of us experience at some point in our lives. My Damascus road ended with a simple and beautiful moment of grace. When I went to the Easter mass that spring, I felt filthy and unworthy because I was listening to the voice of the enemy. In my darkness, our Savior reached out to me through my rector, Fr. Bingham. As I made my way to the altar during Communion, I mouthed to Fr. Bingham, asking if I should even take Communion. He gave me a look before pulling the wafer out of its box. He then gave it me and gave me the blessing- "The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven for you" For you. He put a lot of emphasis on those two words. Then he placed the wafer in my hand and told me to eat it. It was a moment that took a few seconds, but I walked away from that Communion feeling loved, beautiful, and forgiven. It changed me forever.

Before I had the pleasure of speaking to you, we all joined as a body of Christ and partook of the Holy Supper. Some of you might be on your Damascus road right now. Some of you might be struggling with something dark in your life. You might have walked in here today wondering why you came when there is despair in your life. I ask you, I beg you, to remember the reason why we take Communion. It is the body of Christ broken for you. It is the blood of Christ shed for you. It is the bread and wine of heaven for you. It is the celebration of the love and tender mercy that God feels and gives to you. Repentance isn’t just a time of fasting and grief, it is a celebration of the love and mercy that is manifested in Christ Jesus. God loved us so much that He gave up His only begotten son and that through Him we experience love and grace.

Let us pray:  Father God, you know our hearts. No secrets are hidden from you. You know our joys, our fears, our sorrows. When the storms of life reach our shores and darkness threatens to overcome us, anchor us to you. Reach into the deep and pull us into your grace and love. We depend wholly on you, O Lord. We love you. Please be with those of us who are hurting or maybe feeling distant from you. Please remind us of your tender mercies and the great love you have for us. Help us as your family be there for each other in times of joy and times of grief. Never let us forget that each of us are one of your beloved children. For all things, we praise your name. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

c-ya

ke7ejx.

Papa Can You Hear Me?

Do you ever have that dream where you're trying to yell or scream at someone to get their attention because they or you were in danger? Your mouth is forming the words but they came out as a whisper or a hoarse cry? No matter how much air you put into your lungs, it doesn't get above a soft voice and the target doesn't hear and usually walks away...

I've had such dreams many times and the worse part is it also seems to happen to me in reality. Only, the person I am trying to project my cry to is the one person I was taught that I should rely on, that I can trust, that knows all the desires and secrets of my heart. I cry out, beg, plead, and supplicate into a silent darkness and that cry seems to go unheard and unanswered and I can't help but wonder why. All my life, I have read the Psalms of David, the story of Job, the desperate prayer of Hannah, and so many other instances in the Bible where the created proffered cries from the darkness for their Creator to deliver them from trial or to grant their deepest desire or need. Even Paul received an answer to his supplication, even though the reply was not in his favor (2 Corinthians 12:7-10). However, I've been praying for months to no avail and not for the first time in my life, I am wondering if God can hear me or if He was listening in the first place.

It's not that I'm flirting with Atheism or that I'm going to proclaim there is no God. But what do you do in the face of indifference? What do you do when you are slammed with one calamity and heartbreak after another?

I know people are fond of quoting The Princess Bride when Wesley says to Buttercup "Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something..." As a Stoic, there is an appeal to accepting what is and moving along. It was my coping mechanism for years until even I couldn't handle it. Humans were not designed to stand chronic crisis and emotional pain.

Even C.S. Lewis knew that. In his book The Screwtape Letters, the fictional daemon Screwtape wrote letters to his nephew, a junior "tempter" by the name of Wormwood. In one letter, Screwtape spoke on the subject of perpetual human suffering and the effects of enduring such phenomenon:

"You see, it is so hard for these creatures to persevere. The routine of adversity, the quiet despair (hardly felt as pain) of ever overcoming the chronic temptations with which we have again and again defeated them, the drabness which we create in their lives and the inarticulate resentment with which we teach them to respond to it- all this provides admirable opportunities of wearing out a soul by attrition." 

~The Screwtape Letters, pg. 155

Attrition is the action or process of gradually reducing the strength or effectiveness of someone or something through sustained attack or pressure. Erosion. Just like a crumbling rock on the edge of the sea or the bank of a river, that thins with every glacier melt in the spring, I have felt my strength drain with perpetual and relentless disappointment, adversity, and heartbreak. I've always prided myself on my determination to pull myself up by my bootstraps and carry on, but the past year especially it become so hard and now it feels impossible. As I've written before, this isn't my first brush with the "Dark Night of the Soul" but this one has been the hardest. Perhaps I never fully recovered from the last one. It was dovetailed by so many small difficulties. My graduation was a triumph but it was a triumph that was achieved by the skin of my teeth. Since then I've been screened for three different cancers, endured painful lab tests, and have been feverishly trying to get a job. While I felt some discouragement, I was still reasonably well in spirit. 

In August, I was invited to present my "Disability in the Church" presentation at a local church. This was both an honor and something that excited me. If the presentation were a success, it could lead to invitations elsewhere and give me opportunities to discuss a topic that was so near and dear to me. I got to spend 10 lovely days with my Dad in Medford where we got to spend real time together, something we hadn't done since Christmas. When I came home, I was feeling a little under the weather but also refreshed, hopeful, and happy. I was ready to prepare my presentation and I found out I had been nominated to be voted for a committee in the Episcopal Diocese of Oregon. If I won the vote, I would be able to serve my church on a Diocese level and try to make a difference. Then I found out I had bronchitis which explained why I had such a bad cough since the beginning of September. A week later, I ended up the hospital and found out that I had developed pneumonia. I was put in a brief quarantine with high fever but tried to keep my good humor. When my fever broke a few days later, I felt hopeful that I would be recovered by the coming weekend when I would make my presentation. I even felt well enough to wash my bedding and clothing. The next day, I walked into my doctor's appointment optimistically thinking I'd be assured I was finally on the mend. Instead, I found out that I was to be tested for pertussis or Whooping Cough. I was put back into quarantine until the results were in and found out two days later that it was positive. I had to contact the inviting church to inform them of my situation and asked for a postponement, only to find out that they could only cancel because of the way their adult forums were designed. A few minutes later, it was brought to my attention that given the long recovery before me that it was not a good time for me to take on the demands of a Diocese board position. Seeing the wisdom in this, I withdrew my acceptance of the nomination. For the first time in a handful of months, I felt completely defeated and could only pray that the next week would be better. The following weekend proved to be anything but... on Saturday I was informed that my beloved adopted grandfather passed away a week previously and before I could call him and try to foster reconciliation. It was a hard blow and broke my heart. Just as I was trying to breathe, only 48 hours later, I lost a most beloved friend and support and it broke me. Even today, I found out there was a third loss- a professor that I had for so many classes the past four years. 

I have had times in my life where I had a high concentration of bad news and adversity. They were hard but I had always managed to keep my head above water. This time, however, wave upon wave came crashing on my head until I sank to the bottom where I've been since. I'm stuck in the overwhelming current of constant trial and this time, I don't care if I never resurface. I'm tired of feeling broken, defeated, and helpless. I'm tired of struggling against perpetual obstacles and cruxes only to achieve little. When you have quite a few people share with you that when they are tempted to wallow in self-pity they think of me and realize someone has it worse than they do, it speaks volumes to me just how painful my life is. When people use you as the measuring stick when it comes to their own sufferings, that's a clue to just how messed up your life is.

I'm at a point in my life where I can't cope anymore.  While I go through the motions, life has no value or interest for me. Every day, at least once, I curl up in the fetal position pressing my chest as I feel the physical pain in my heart and I shed bitter tears. I force myself to eat once per day otherwise I wouldn't eat at all because I have no appetite. I sleep little or I stare at the ceiling all night until it's time to get up. I go to bed each night with a prayer that I won't wake up, that the pain will end. But like so many other prayers, God does not answer. I came to the awful realization that God has completely abandoned me and that He doesn't care.

This is an alarming thing to realize especially given how called I felt to Ministry. I've preached the word of God to others, I try to minister and be a Christ-like influence to the people I live with and anyone who comes to ECM. I'm even trying to join a religious order and I can't even say with confidence that I am a child of God, that He loves me, and that He is in all of this. If anything, it feels like I'm in the clutches of the Devil and no one is coming to save me. Out of the depths, I cry out to God but no one hears. He doesn't seem to hear...

c-ya.

ke7ejx.

Celebrating Mother

"She said yes for tomorrow, yes to the sorrow 

Yes to the Almighty because she believed. 

She said yes to be holy, yes to give fully; 

Yes to the honor she would one day receive."  

~Andrew T. Miller, "The Birth of Christ"

The Annunciation Sandro Botticelli

On the fifteenth of August, many Christians celebrate the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Tradition declares that upon her death, her soul and her earthly body were received into heaven similar to Elijah from the Old Testament. It's a time of reverent remembrance and honor for Mary. It's also a time of celebration for my parish who took on her blessed name. 

As Protestants, many of us shy away from the idea of honoring the Blessed Mother and dismiss the idea as idol worship or pre-Reformation superstition. However, I can't help but wonder if we are missing the boat here. Even scripture indicates that Mary was extraordinary and her faith, courage, and obedience are legendary. 

In Luke's Gospel, we are introduced to what is known as "The Annunciation (or announcement) of Christ" where the Angel Gabriel comes before a young girl named Mary. Now, over the centuries due to artistic license and imagination, many tend to think of angels as the cute infant cherubs that one sees in a lot of Renaissance art and in different palaces. If this is what you imagine, please allow me your eyes. Biblically speaking, the appearance of an angel was neither adorable nor a sign of safety. Throughout the Old Testament, Angels appeared in flame with sword in hand and a close encounter with said celestial being could be fatal. C.S. Lewis once wrote that "I believe no angel ever appears in Scripture without exciting terror; they always have to begin by saying "Fear not" (March 4, 1953 letter)". I know that if an Angel were to pop into my living room right now I would probably do three things: 1) scream 3) faint and the before I faint 2) do something that for the sake of modesty I will not express. Point being, I'd be racked with terror and wondering if I was about to come face-to-face with my Maker. Mary who would have known this must have been paralyzed with terror. Seeing her fear, Gabriel soothes her saying, " Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God (Luke 1:30 NRSV)".  

Then he proceeds to tell her that she will become pregnant and carry a son. Naturally, Mary was both puzzled and horrified. She makes it clear when she asks Gabriel how that can happen when she herself has never been with a man. I feel for her there because I know that if I came home as a teenager and told my parents I was knocked up and that it was done without intercourse my parents would scoff, denounce me as a liar, and demand to know who the father is not to mention any other consequence that would arise. For Mary, to be pregnant as a maid would have had far worse consequences than being grounded or treated with scorn by her parents. In Hellenistic Judea, if Mary came out as being pregnant and God hadn't provided her with a righteous man of God, Joseph could have handed her over to authorities who would have dragged her into the town square where Mary would have been stoned to death for dishonoring Joseph. Even worse, Mary would have had to experience the trauma of knowing that the first stone would have been thrown by her betrothed. Joseph had even made the decision to "divorce her quietly as to not expose her to public disgrace (Matt 1:19 NRSV)". However, despite the life-threatening dangers, this 14-16-year-old girl said yes to the danger, the sorrows, and heartbreaks that would come. She said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word (Luke 1:38 NRSV)". 

To me, the faith and obedience shown in those few verses is breathtaking. She had to endure the trauma of childbirth in a stable, not a hospital, had to endure the pains of rejection from Jesus, raising a son who would eventually be sacrificed, and even stood at the cross as her precious son breathed his last breath. She may have been a "supporting character" but her influence ran deep. Jesus' first public miracle occurred at a wedding in Cana (John 2) because Mary asked him to replace the wine that had been depleted. Jesus obeyed though with some protest and turned many jugs of water into the finest wine. This speaks volumes to me of how much he respected and loved his mother. 

This past Wednesday on August 15th, I went to the morning mass and listened to an amazing sermon given by my rector. At one point, he slipped up saying this was a time to celebrate Mother when he meant Mary. However, like many Freudian slips, I think there was a great deal of truth in what Fr. Bingham originally said. This is indeed a time to celebrate Mother. Because Mother is a title of honor, virtue, and one of the greatest callings that can come from God. I know this because anytime I look at an image or statue of the Blessed Virgin, I see the face of my own mother. I wasn't conceived through Immaculate Conception, but my mother carried me for months, went through the agony of bringing me into this world, and then raised me to adulthood. I was her first and with shame, I confess that I don't always honor her as I should, as she deserves. My mother is no less holy to me than she who carried our Savior into this world. God willing, she will not have to witness my death, but she has witnessed the pains I experience through failure, illnesses, and other heartbreaks in life. She has seen my smiles as well as my tears. She said yes to carrying another life and that is amazing. Even as an adult, she influences me. At a recent job interview, I was asked about my work model. In answer, I spoke of my mother and her work ethic. How she has worked at the same company for over 20 years and made herself indispensable through hard work and reliability. I concluded by saying I wanted my work model to echo hers. 

One of my favorite prayers in the Book of Common Prayer is one that I read every evening as I complete my evening devotions. Some know it as Mary's Canticle, others as the Magnificat. It is taken from Luke 1:46-55. It is a song of praise given by Mary after her visit with her cousin Elizabeth who is also carrying a miracle: 

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.

My spirit rejoices in God, my Savior.

For He has looked with favor on His lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed.

He has mercy on those who fear Him in every generation.

He has shown the strength of His arm

And has scattered the proud in their conceit.

He has cast down the mighty from their thrones

And has lifted up the lowly.

He has filled the hungry with good things

And the rich He has sent away empty.

He has come to the help of His servant Israel

For He has remembered His promise of mercy.

The promise He made to our fathers,

To Abraham, and His children forever.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord

My spirit rejoices in God, my Savior.

For He has looked with favor on His lowly servant.

From this day all generations will call me blessed.

The Almighty has done great things for me

And Holy is His Name. 

Perhaps this is due to my Catholic background but I really do believe that Mary should be remembered and honored. She is important to our story as a mother of Christ but also a mother to future generations. I realize that the term "Marian Devotion" is a buzzword that puts many Protestants on edge but I argue that honoring her and remembering the role she plays is a far cry from worshipping her. I don't actively pray to her but I find comfort in praying the rosary especially when I'm in excruciating pain. I carry my rosary and other prayer beads with me and it brings comfort to feel the cool beads and metal between my fingers. It's almost like laying my head in my mother's lap when life is so hard. Because she is a mother to me, in fact, she's a mother to all who proclaim faith in her Son. In Fr. Bingham's sermon, he spoke of her experience standing at the foot of the Cross and Jesus making arrangements for her even on the edge of death. We all have heard of the "Beloved Disciple", the individual who stayed steady and faithful. The individual to whom Jesus gestured to saying to Mary, "Woman, here is your son (John 19:26 NRSV)". Then he spoke to the individual saying, "Here is your mother (John 19:27 NRSV)". Fr. Bingham discussed that while there are theories concerning the identity of the individual, one theory is that the individual isn't one of the Disciples or even a 1st-century bystander. The Beloved Disciple and child of the Blessed Mother is us. When he said that, I had goosebumps and the hairs on my neck stood up. The Beloved Disciple is you, me, and all others who rest on Christ's breast and take in his mother. Mary is our mother and is full of tenderness, love, compassion for all of God's children. 

Let us celebrate Mary, the Blessed Virgin, the Mother of God. Let us celebrate Mother. 

ke7ejx. 

Matthew 26- Not What I Want But What You Want

Eugene Masonic Cemetery 

If I had to break down one of the hardest principles of faith to a handful of words it’s this: “Not what I want but what you want (verse 39)” or in other contemporary translations, “Not my will but your will be done”.

It’s so hard, isn’t it? The ability to go, “okay, Lord. I don’t want to do it, I’m not going to enjoy doing it, but I know it’s what you want so I’m going to do it”. I don’t know about you, but I’m the sort of person who only feels comfortable and relaxed if I’m the one holding the reins in my own life and situations. The idea of handing over the control to someone else, including God, is among the hardest things for me to do.

Yet, this is exactly what our Savior did. It is no accident that he went to the Garden of Gethsemane which translates as “olive press”. When pressing olives for their oil, the olives would be put in an olive press, where the olive would be crushed into a paste and spread across discs before reentering the press to be crushed again, thus surrendering its oil. In this case, Jesus was the olive.

Matthew 26 began with Jesus’ memorial service- he was anointed with an expensive ointment that was usually reserved for anointing a body before it is buried. He broke bread with his closest friends in Passover while using the bread and wine to illustrate a new covenant between God and mankind. “Take, eat” was His command as he broke the unleavened bread, “This is my body”. He then gave thanks and took the cup of wine. “Drink from it” was his second command, “This is my blood of the covenant which is poured out for man for the forgiveness for sins”. It might interest you to know that the Greek word for thanks is εὐχαριστία or Eucharist. That is why some churches, including my own, refer to Communion as the Eucharist. When we take the bread and the wine, we are doing this in remembrance, in memorial of what would soon be the broken and bloody sacrifice of Christ for our sins.

Jesus knew that He was going to die and that it wasn’t going to be a pretty or peaceful death. As He walked with his disciples to the edge of the garden, He became agitated and filled with deep sorrow. He threw himself to the ground as He reached for His father in an abyss of deep emotional, spiritual, and even physical agony. God was putting Him into a press to begin the process of yielding our salvation. In fervent prayer, Jesus asked to be spared what would have been a terrifying process. The first time He prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want but what you want” and the second time He prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done”. We are not talking about a whimsical prayer where we ask for deliverance from an exam or even a snow day so we can sleep in, but a prayer for mercy and reprieve from a future of excruciating pain and a terrible death. And this wasn’t just anyone praying, it was God’s own son, who God anointed in the River Jordan and God didn’t answer His prayer.

In his essay, The Efficiency of Prayer, C.S. Lewis pointed out that” There are, no doubt, passages in the New Testament which may seem at first sight to promise an invariable granting of our prayers. But that cannot be what they really mean. For in the very heart of the story we meet a glaring instance to the contrary. In Gethsemane the holiest of all petitioners prayed three times that a certain cup might pass from Him. It did not. After that the idea that prayer is recommended to us as a sort of infallible gimmick may be dismissed.”

While God’s refusal to Jesus’ prayer is extraordinary, Jesus’ acceptance and submission was even more so. When He said, “yet not what I want, but what you want”, He was telling His Father that He would fulfill God’s will in absolute obedience. How many of us could pull off that kind of submission? How many of us could raise our hand and say, “Okay Lord, I will do exactly as you say and exactly how you want it!”?

Following this perfect act of submission, Jesus roused his sleeping friends because it was time to meet what awaited Him. Then a second profound and uncanny coincidence occurred. John 18:1 tells us that when Jesus walked to the second part of the garden where Judas and the soldiers were waiting for him, that Jesus went through the Valley of Kidron.

This is significant for a couple of reasons. First, according to the Talmud, the blood of the animals slaughtered in the Temple, and other refuse (probably the impurities from the city), were to be carried through a sewer into the lower Kidron and thence sold as manure to gardeners (2 Chronicles 29-31). Secondly, it was a place of death, a cemetery. Many tombs were located along the walls and paths of Kidron. As He walked, Jesus would have seen those graves. He would have been thinking of the role He was about to play. The Passover lamb, whose blood would be shed and sacrificed for the sinful excrement of man. He was walking over the last efficacious blood of sacrifices and seeing the filth of humanity on his way to become the final blood sacrifice and to remove the filth of humanity.

This Sunday begins Holy Week, starting with Palm Sunday which commemorates Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem which leads to Maundy Thursday which commemorates Jesus’ agony and total submission in Gethsemane before He experienced the agony of Good Friday when He took the sins of the past, present, and future and died for them; and finally, the glory and joy of Easter Sunday when He defeated death and rose again. David Guzik said, “Jesus did not die as a martyr. Jesus went to his death knowing that it was his Father’s will that he face death completely alone as the sacrificial, wrath-averting Passover Lamb. As his death was unique, so also his anguish; and our best response to it is hushed worship.”

Some of you might be wondering how one would go about celebrating these sacred events. Do it with thanks, with reverent and joyful praise. Acknowledge the sacrifice of the sacrificial Lamb of God. Eat the bread and drink the wine of God and remember He who took on the sins of the world with love and gratitude in your hearts. Blessed Easter to you all.

Matthew 11- Talking the Talk and Walking the Walk

When I was growing up, my mother was my teacher of Christian ethics. She would quote the same proverb over and over: “If you’re going to talk the talk, you had better walk the walk”. She usually reserved it for the occasions when I wasn’t acting in a Christ-like manner. It goes in fellowship with “practice what you preach” or “talk is cheap” or even “actions speak louder than words”. They all come with the same message: check your hypocrisy. My mother was telling me that if I’m going to wear a cross around my neck, carry a Bible, and proclaim myself as a Christian, I had better act like it.

If we’re going to talk the talk of a Christian, we need to walk with Christ and we better be acting like Him because actions do indeed come in louder and clearer than any WWJD bracelet (or the prayer beads I carry in my pocket) or passive word that flows from our mouths. “How do we do that?”, you may ask. Well, thankfully in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus gave us an unmistakably clear answer.
Verse 28 begins with an invitation: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest (NRSV)”. Chuck Smith called this a “wonderful invitation”.  Jesus is pulling up a chair, so we can sit down with Him and have a chat. He wants to hear from us, He wants us to unload all our baggage, not for our own sake or to pet our bruised and damaged egos, because once we are able to let go of our baggage, we will be open to His assistance.

This baggage can be so many things in our lives. We struggle with all sorts of things. Some of us lie, some of us steal, some of us struggle with sexual sins, many of us struggle with bitterness, and I struggle with doubt and self-loathing on a daily basis. Yes, I’m preaching to myself as well as you. Additionally, Christ wasn’t just talking to the followers of John the Baptist or other Hellenistic people. His messages are still applicable and are the “same yesterday and today and forever (Hebrews 13:8 NRSV)”. Which means, you, me, and we need to lend an ear to what He’s trying to say to us. He’s trying to tell us that what we struggle with is not so different from what John, His disciples, and countless other people mentioned in the Gospels dealt with in their lives? Don’t believe me? Thumb through the stories and count how many of those people who share something in common with you.
First comes the invitation. Jesus just welcomed us to His table and listened to us pour out our hearts. He might have even nodded in understanding, hummed in sympathy, or placed a hand on our shoulder while we unloaded. Now, as we take a deep breath to steady ourselves, He’s getting ready to give a prescription to help us overcome the things we struggle with.

In Verse 29, He gives us a direct order: “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle, and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls (NRSV)”. Wait…what? We just went from an offer of rest and repose to a command of action from which we will find rest? This may sound paradoxical, but it really does make sense. If we are going to proclaim Jesus Christ as our King, we must submit ourselves to Him completely. We must submit ourselves to God’s service and learn what His Son will teach us. This isn’t an idle path to walk as much as we might want it to be. C. H. Spurgeon pointed out to his congregation that “Every active Christian will tell you he is never happier than when he has much to do; and, on the whole, if he communes with Jesus, never more at rest than when he has least leisure. Look not for your rest in the mere enjoyments and excitements of religion but find your rest in wearing a yoke which you love, and which, for that reason, is easy to your neck.” The rest Christ is promising us is the release from all that baggage we just unloaded at Jesus’ doorstep.

By submitting ourselves to the yoke of Christ, we are allowing ourselves to be open to His teachings and He just said that He will be a gentle and humble teacher. Spurgeon also said, “The rest before us is rest through learning. Does a friend say, "I do not see how I am ever to get rest in working, and rest in suffering?" My dear brother, you never will except you go to school, and you must go to school to Christ.” This means that we must lay aside all the things that prevent our finding that rest, including our past prejudices, self-pity, and preconceived notions of what our lives should be. Because our ways really are not God’s ways or Christ’s ways. Our timing may be good or bad timing, but God’s timing is always perfect. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather rely on God’s perfection that my own imperfection.

This is the promise that Jesus closes out with, He said in verse 30, “For my yoke is easy and my burden is light (NRSV)”. Coming from the Savior who would later hang on a cross for the sins of the world, this may seem like a rather extraordinary statement for Him to make. However, His burden wasn’t light because He was taking the easy path and living for Himself. No. Jesus’ burden was light because He wanted to please His Father. He lived to please His Father. When we live to please our eternal Father, when we live like the Savior of whom we proclaim, it is an easier burden. We see it time and time again from the Word and in our own lives that when we live to please ourselves, the burden of the carnal desires is much heavier and spoiler alert, it makes us miserable.

We live in a time and place where we are encouraged to please ourselves and mocked or in some parts of the world persecuted when we choose to follow Christ. In our lives, in our current day and age, we are beset by division, dissent, difficulty. In all these the many movements by which we are surrounded, the many efforts we make in our lives, we make in the attempt to rest. Christ comes to us offering us this rest. He promises that he can provide rest from the things that make us heavy laden. On the one hand, if we want the rest, we must actually come to him, we cannot delude ourselves by thinking we can provide our own rest with our own power. We must not believe that our own resources be factors that we see at work currently in the exterior world or our interior world has the power to grant our rest. Only in coming unto Christ and trusting in him, can this rest be gained. He, himself, is our promised rest. And yet, when he offers us his rest, he describes likewise, as a yoke, as a burden, as a learning. We cannot merely speak or think ourselves into this rest. Restful abiding in Christ is the same as walking with Christ. It cannot merely be “talking the talk” and not “walking the walk”

So. Wear the bracelet, by all means. Carry the prayer beads. Wear your “I love Jesus” t-shirts. Post those Bible verses on Facebook and talk about how much you love God. It won’t hurt anyone, and I pray that it brings those you interact with to Christ. All I ask that you remember is this: if you do all those things but you don’t act out the beliefs you claim to hold dear. It will drown out all the messages that you hope to send because it will be accurately interpreted as mere lip service. It will drive people from Christ when they need Him the most. Talk the talk, but if you do, please for the love of God, walk the walk.

Matthew 9- the Prescription for Healing

Imagine with me a man. Now, this man would look weird, even in Eugene. Not only because of his appearance but also the vibes that radiate from him. Imagine that he was so weird that the Eugenians kicked him out and forced him to float across the Willamette to Springfield. Hard to believe, right? But it did happen once to a man only it happened many centuries ago in Capernaum-the Eugene of Judea. After healing a Gadarene of demons by sending those demons into a herd of pigs who drowned themselves in the nearby river, he was told to pack his bags and leave. Hardly a sadist who would force himself to be where he wasn’t wanted, the man got into a boat and sailed home to Galilee. Sound familiar yet? Not only did the Springtuckian come home, he left something amazing in his wake.

This man was none other than Jesus Christ, himself. He walked where He walked in His boyhood days and hung out in His own neighborhood. People followed him wherever he went and under the disapproving eye of the local ministers who thought Jesus was way too weird to be one of the faithful sons of Israel. That didn’t stop others from wanting to meet Jesus and bring with them their struggles to lay at his feet.

There were two people who did this literally. The first was a group of men who picked up a friend of theirs who was a paralytic, bed and all and carried him kicking and screaming to the one man who could possibly heal him. Jesus looked at the paralytic who radiated doubt, anger, and even humiliation at his crippled state with pity and compassion. He told the paralytic that his sins were forgiven, that he was loved and then told him to pick up his bed and walk home. Imagine the bewilderment of the man who received this order and the amount of risk he put into obeying knowing that there was a chance it wouldn’t even work. Imagine his wonder and joy when he took his first steps to realize that the impossible became possible with each step as he walked, perhaps even ran or skipped home.

Another such case came in the form of a lonely woman who was shunned because she had an unknown disease that caused her to bleed incessantly making her unclean through no fault of her own. Imagine the desperation that woman must have felt because she had no insurance to help her and she put her last denarius into seeing many doctors who all told her that she couldn’t be cured. Desperate enough to have the crazy thought “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well (verse 21)”. Prostrated on the ground, she reached out so her fingertips could brush his hem. A touch so soft and as gentle as the flick of a butterfly’s wing that no one would have known. But Jesus felt it to His core and as the power left His body, her own body renewed, and a hopeless situation dawned into a situation of joy.

Not only did Jesus perform this miraculous healing, he explained why. To the woman, He said, “ἡ πίστις σου σέσωκέν σε”, “your faith has made you whole (verse 22)”. With the friends of the paralytic, the text says “καὶ ἰδὼν ὁ Ἰησοῦς τὴν πίστιν”, “and when Jesus saw their faith”. Faith. Faith. Their faith, your faith, his faith, her faith. If Matthew 9 is about healing the underlined prescription is faith.

Now, some of you may be wondering why the heck I of all people would be talking about healing. If you are, I have to say that you’re not alone in that wondering. I have to say, in the spirit of confession and in repentance, that I did not approach this topic correctly. When I opened to Matthew 9 and the first story I read was the paralytic, I laughed hard. A cripple preaching on Christ healing infirmity? I trust that you can appreciate the irony of such a thing and I felt completely unqualified to preach on healing. I sought out the advice of a friend who had preached for many decades and he told me to go read some Paul-particularly 2 Corinthians 12:1-9.

Three times, Paul asked God to relieve him of his pain and torment. God refused and said it was for Paul’s benefit- “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness (verse 9)”. Instead of getting ticked, these words changed Paul’s outlook on his trials and instead of despair, he boasted all the louder in God’s praise because for Christ Paul was willing to endure any calamity for when he is weak, he is made strong.

So, what do we do when we beg God for deliverance from trial or illness and He doesn’t remove the bitter cup? Calvary Chapel Pastor Chuck Smith said, “many times, it takes a greater faith to not be healed than it does to be healed.” I’m not going to put God in a box, but I understand that there’s a good chance that my healing won’t take place until after my Master calls me home and I’ll be honest and say I don’t know why. But healing comes in many forms. Jesus didn’t just heal physical ailments, He also the skillful physician of both body and soul. Healing starts with faith, whether it is our faith like the woman who dared to reach her hand out to Christ, or the faith of others like the friends of the paralyzed man who carried him despite his protestations. Both stories had this in common: their faith was strong, humble and active. Through this faith, we see the remarkable instances of the power and pity of the Great Physician whose miracles were not primarily calculated for the crowd effect. Instead they were primarily done to minister to the humble needs of humble people.

When we reach out to Christ, we need to be humble. We need to have faith that He can heal us, but we also need to have faith if it is God’s will that we endure.