Page 5 of 6

Posted on

Good Friday Meditation

Cross-bar
Many people have asked me, "In light of the events that happened to Jesus on this day in history, why do we call it Good?" A standard response is that it is called Good because of what Christ accomplished through the willing sacrifice of His life for ours. Good Friday then sets us up for Resurrection Sunday! So we don't get the resurrection without the pain of Friday's crucifixion.

That does make sense, and it is a "good" answer, but there have also been other names given to this day. Some of the names it has been called are; "Holy Friday" – "Black Friday" – "Great Friday" – "God's Friday." It truly is a powerful day. This is the day that we are reminded that in Christ, God had turned the entire religious system on it's head.

Through all the ages, God has been viewed as someone who dwelt above/beyond the earth. This is the realm where all that sustains life comes from. The sun, the moon, the rain, even the weather patterns. Humanity then began to "look up" and devised ways of trying to get God, or "the gods" to give them the things they needed, from a good harvest to favor in business.

Until the moment Jesus arrived,(an unfortunately still to this day) the religions of the world really moved in the same direction. If you wanted to be in a good spot with God, you had to do whatever it took to appease Him/them… if you did it right, then He would send the sun and the rain at the right times on your crops. If you did it right, you would have many children, if you did it right, good things would happen to you. However, If you didn't appease Him/them, bad things would happen to you. So life was/is spent trying to figure out what side-of-the-bed God got up on today, and where a person stood with God/gods.

It is easy to see how a religious system of "works" and "appeasement" so naturally came into being. Life was lived trying to make the invisible god(s) happy, and it seemed that not many were making much headway.

Then comes Jesus. Jesus reverses the order. In Christ it is not about appeasing God, trying to do things down here that would favorably get His attention…rather Jesus reveals the true heart of the Father. He initiates and completes everything necessary for us to be in relationship with God apart from a religious appeasement system.

Instead of trying to work our way up to God…

He loved His way down to us.

Jesus' sacrifice reminds us that He has done everything necessary for us to reconnect with the Living God. There is nothing for us to add to what Christ has done. His death and resurrection secure our hope. When we think there are things we must do, we are falling under the old system of appeasement again…there is no gift greater than Christ's life…there is nothing more powerful that we can do beyond Jesus raised from the dead…

A life that is following the Rabbi (Jesus) will change as a by-product of the renewed relationship available with God…but it is important to remember that the by-product of a transformed life is not the basis for your acceptance before God…Jesus is, and He is good.

So today is a day to be thankful for God's plan to equalize the playing field through grace. For turning upside-down the religious view that God is always angry, and we are never good enough. For God choosing to enter our skin and His willingness to substitute His life as a ransom for ours…

When you finish meditating on all that God has done…it is hard not to think…this is "Good."

Here is a great meditation piece for you from pray as you go…click on it, listen and enjoy

PAYG_100409

Dei Gratia,

Monty

Posted on

Can You Drink the Cup? -1

The_cup_cu Sharing something to drink is an invitation to intimacy…

Their request bobbed upon the surface. James and John, the sons of thunder, each wanted to sit on the right and left of Jesus when he was seated in his kingly position, but they didn't understand the full force of the conversation that they had started. Beneath the surface there was an invitation to experience the depths of God that would require faith, hope and love.

____________________________________________

Mark 10:35-40 (NIV) 35Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. "Teacher," they said, "we want you to do for us whatever we ask."  36"What do you want me to do for you?" he asked.  37They replied, "Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory."  38"You
don't know what you are asking," Jesus said. "Can you drink the cup I
drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?"  39"We
can," they answered. Jesus said to them, "You will drink the cup I
drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, 40but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared."

______________________________________________

I wonder, was Jesus holding a cup while this conversation was happening? As He  swirled the contents of they cup, perhaps James and John thought, "sure, no problem, that's easy…in fact I'll have a sip right now!" But Jesus meant a different cup.

They also knew all about Jesus' baptism by John in the Jordan river, and they too had experienced John's ministry…however, Jesus was talking about a completely different cup, and a wholly different baptism.

The cup was a cup of sacrifice, agony and selflessness predicated by Divine love and compassion.This cup would cost everything. This cup was a humble cup that didn't focus on position, status or power, but on love. This cup was bitter to the tongue, but had a sweet after-taste.

The baptism wasn't about water, but about the abiding presence and indwelling of the Trinity by the power and agency of the Holy Spirit. The only way a person can drink a selfless sacrificial cup is through the abiding presence in our hearts of the One who drank it first, Jesus. The Holy Spirit multiplies the resurrected and ascended Christ into every heart who trusts and believes that Jesus is the Christ by faith…this is the baptism of the Holy Spirit into the life and family of God.

It was true, they would drink sacrificial cups, giving their lives in the mission of their Lord, and they would be filled and baptized into the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost…but who sits to the right and the left of Jesus, well, that belongs to the Father and the Spirit.

When we share a drink together, when we share a cup together, there is so much more going on than meets the eye. To drink together is to enter into each others story. It is intimate, relational and beautiful. In  Henry Nouwen's book "Can You Drink This Cup" he states:

"In whatever country or culture we find ourselves, having a drink together is a sign of friendship, intimacy, and peace. Being thirsty is often not the main reason to drink. We drink to "break the   ice," to enter into a conversation, to show good intention, to express friendship and goodwill, to  set the stage for a romantic moment, to be open, vulnerable, accessible. It is no surprise that people who are angry at us, or who come to accuse or harass us, won't accept a drink from us. They would rather say: "I will come straight to the point of my being here." Refusing a drink is avoiding  intimacy." p. 80

Can you drink the cup? This is a choice that has been extended to us by the hands of grace. Yes, we can drink the cup, the question is -will we drink the cup? Refusing the drink is to avoid intimacy, accepting the drink expands the God-conversation.

In another very powerful way Jesus drank the bitter cup, so that we could drink the sweet cup of life. This reminds me that when life is hard, when it seems that the cup is beyond bitter, even then, there is the potential for sweetness if we allow Jesus to enter in.

I see this in the story of the bitter water at Marah in Exodus 15. As the Children of Israel crossed the Red Sea and began their journey, the first drinking spot the came to had water that was bitter (Marah means bitter). As the complained about the bad drinking water, God had a remedy:

__________________________________________

 Exodus 15:22-25

"22 Then Moses led Israel
from the Red Sea and they went into the Desert of Shur. For three days
they traveled in the desert without finding water. 23 When they came to Marah, they could not drink its water because it was bitter. (That is why the place is called Marah. ) 24 So the people grumbled against Moses, saying, "What are we to drink?"  25
Then Moses cried out to the LORD, and the LORD showed him a piece of
wood. He threw it into the water, and the water became sweet."

___________________________________________

When the drink was bitter, God showed Moses that there was a piece of wood that when added to the bad water source transformed it into sweet, good drinking water.

This is a picture of Calvary, of the Cross of Christ. Are you experiencing a bad drink, a bitter cup? Then, apply the wood of Jesus sacrifice, by accepting His sacrifice for you, and then even the bitterest of drinks have hope and light and life! Nothing is beyond the redemption of Christ's love.

Nouwen also says:

"We have to drink our cup slowly, tasting every mouthful-all the way to the bottom. Living a  complete life is drinking our cup until it is empty, trusting that God will fill it with everlasting life." p. 93

The cup is a celebration of what it means to be human…to be fully alive…may you drink to abundance this Easter.

Dei Gratia

Pastor Monty

Posted on

This Christmas…

Christmas-tree

I came across a Christmas card this year that I truly like. Instead of the traditional scenes, verses, or holiday metaphors, it was simply words. Words crafted into a set of actions that transform the one who would invest the time and heart to actually live them out. Take a moment out of your busy Christmas schedule and breathe deeply…ask God to speak to you, then slowly read through the Christmas message.

Merry Christmas,

Monty

This Christmas…

mend a quarrel…seek out a forgotten friend…write a love letter…share some treasure…give a soft answer…encourage youth…keep a promise…find the time…forgive an enemy…listen…apologize if you were wrong…think first of someone else…be kind and gentle…laugh a little…laugh a little more…express your gratitude…gladden the heart of a child…take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth…speak your love…speak it again…speak it still once again.

~anonymous

Posted on

God In The Doorway…

As Christmas is approaching, I find myself indulging in a story that always re-centers my soul, and reminds me that the scenarios my mind creates often need adjusting! Each year I re-read God In The Doorway, which is found in Annie Dillard's book, Teaching A Stone To Talk." Sit back, and absorb 🙂

MC

***********************

Teaching A Stone To Talk
God In The Doorway

One
cold Christmas Eve I was up unnaturally late because we had all gone
out to dinner-my parents, my baby sister, and I. We had come home to a
warm living room, and Christmas Eve. Our stockings drooped from the
mantle; beside them, a special table bore a bottle of ginger ale and a
plate of cookies.

I had taken off my fancy winter coat and was
standing on the heat register to bake my shoe soles and warm my bare
legs. There was a commotion at the front door; it opened, and cold
winter blew around my dress.

Everyone was calling me. “Look who’s
here! Look who’s here!” I looked. It was Santa Claus. Whom I
never-ever-wanted to meet. Santa Claus was looming in the doorway and
looking around for me. My mother’s voice was thrilled: “Look who’s
here!” I ran upstairs.

Like everyone in his right mind, I feared
Santa Claus, thinking he was God. I was still thoughtless and brute,
reactive. I knew right from wrong, but had barely tested the
possibility of shaping my own behavior, and then only from fear, and
not yet from love. Santa Claus was an old man whom you never saw, but
who nevertheless saw you; he knew when you’d been bad or good. He knew
when you’d been bad or good! And I had been bad.

My mother called
and called, enthusiastic, pleading; I wouldn’t come down. My father
encouraged me; my sister howled. I wouldn’t come down, but I could bend
over the stairwell and see: Santa Claus stood in the doorway with night
over his shoulder, letting in all the cold air of the sky; Santa Claus
stood in the doorway monstrous and bright, powerless, ringing a loud
bell and repeating Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas. I never came down.
I don’t know who ate the cookies.

For so many years now I have
known that this Santa Claus was actually a rigged-up Miss White, who
lived across the street, that I confuse the dramatis personae in my
mind, making Santa Claus, God, and Miss White an awesome, vulnerable
trinity. This is really a story about Miss White.

Miss White was
old; she lived alone in the big house across the street. She liked
having me around; she plied me with cookies, taught me things about the
world, and tried to interest me in finger painting, in which she
herself took great pleasure. She would set up easels in her kitchen,
tack enormous slick soaking papers to their frames, and paint
undulating undersea scenes: horizontal smears of color sparked by
occasional vertical streaks which were understood to be fixed kelp. I
liked her. She meant no harm on earth, and yet half a year after her
failed visit as Santa Claus, I ran from her again.

That day, a
day of the following summer, Miss White and I knelt in her yard while
she showed me a magnifying glass. It was a large, strong hand lens. She
lifted my hand and, holding it very still, focused a dab of sunshine on
my palm. The glowing crescent wobbled, spread, and finally contracted
to a point. It burned; I was burned; I ripped my hand away and ran home
crying. Miss White called after me, sorry, explaining, but I didn’t
look back.

Even now I wonder: if I meet God, will he take and
hold my bare hand in his, and focus his eye on my palm, and kindle that
spot and let me burn?

But no. It is I who misunderstood
everything and let everybody down. Miss White, God, I am sorry I ran
from you. I am still running, running from that knowledge, that eye,
that love from which there is no refuge. For you meant only love, and
love, and I felt only fear, and pain. So once in Israel love came to us
incarnate, stood in the doorway between two worlds, and we were all
afraid.

*Taken from…"Teaching a Stone to Talk" by Annie Dillard