Easter: Courage and Joy

"Do not be afraid,
for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified.
He is not here; he has risen, just as he said...."


So the women hurried away from the tomb,
afraid yet filled with joy,
and ran to tell his disciples.

Matthew 28:5-6, 8

"Do not be afraid" were Jesus' first words to them. The message attended his birth, his ministry, his death and Resurrection. And it comes to us today with the same gentle and compelling clarity with which it was offered on that first Easter morning.

There is much around us that is awesome and awful. We know too well the divisions and suffering that plague our world. We have seen that the authorities today use tactics similar to those employed 2,000 years ago, and many people scheme to play to our fear, destroy our hope, and seal off our joy.

But we have the confidence of our faith. We have seen the risen Lord!

Mary and Mary Magdalene loved with such a perfect love that they shed their fear....They were among the first to know the truth that John later put into words: "There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear" (1 John 4:18).

They challenge us to love and believe. To love Jesus with a perfect love and to believe in the power of his Resurrection.... Their testimony stands through the ages. It is a reminder to "rekindle the gift of God that is within you...for God did not give us a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love" (2 Timothy 1:6-7). With courage and joy, let us claim that same spirit that dwelt within our sisters, the first witnesses of the Resurrection.

From Joyce Hollyday, “An Invitation,” Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter

Photo: José M. Ruibérriz

Sunday

There is a fountain filled with blood
drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;
and sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains.
And sinners plunged beneath that flood
lose all their guilty stains.

The dying thief rejoiced to see
that fountain in his day;
and there may I, though vile as he,
wash all my sins away.
And there may I, though vile as he,
wash all my sins away.

E’er since, by faith, I saw the stream
thy flowing wounds supply,
redeeming love has been my theme,
and shall be till I die.
Redeeming love has been my theme,
and shall be till I die.

Needing What I Cannot Give

They declared a young man something other than what they thought he should be.

They ganged up on him.

They beat him to within an inch of his life.

They tortured him.

And he said, Father, forgive them.

I must remember where I stand in this story.

I am not innocent. I am not a bystander. I am the abuser of Jesus. I am complicit in his death.

And each day I continue to abuse the gifts and love he gives me through his resurrection.

I am sorry to admit that despite it being Lent, I have thought little about Jesus's suffering until this week. But holding my precious, unmarred baby in my arms, my mind's eye sees a young man in pain, echoes of sad and shocking news that has fallen close to home this week.

I have been thinking about the words justice, mercy, forgiveness, and how supernatural it is for God to embody and dispense them all. I am far from this. Too often my stated desire for justice is really for vengeance; for mercy, one-sided; for forgiveness, selfish. I want these things for myself and those I love but not for those I hate but yes, someone else loves.

Justice. Where there are crimes, justice should be done. But in an angry heart I want it not just done but done to the perpetrators. Not just that the scales should be balanced but that the hammer should fall. This is why ultimate justice should not, cannot, ever be for me to decide.

Forgiveness. I do want to see forgiveness--for the victims, so their hearts will not be poisoned. Justice can draw out the arrow, but only forgiveness can heal the wound. But can there be forgiveness without repentance? There cannot be reconciliation . . . but I think there can be forgiveness offered without request. Indeed there must be, else we would all stand condemned by a thousand offenses a day we fail to even recognize we have committed against our brothers and our God.

Which brings us, perhaps, to mercy . . . the thing I cannot now bring myself to desire for others even though I would beg it for myself or my own. I feel it would undermine justice. How can they coexist? But if mercy were fair, it would not be mercy; it would be justice, just as something paid for is not a gift. Mercy is God's gift to give. Mercy is a sovereign God's right even as justice is his requirement. Only a sovereign God can be merciful and yet ensure justice is fulfilled. And now we are back to the story again, wondering how dare we ask for mercy after what we have done yet knowing we cannot stand without it.

Sometimes we know not what we should ask. But we know a man of sorrows who is familiar with suffering, rich in mercy, and willing to forgive. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.

“You can’t conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God.”

—Graham Greene

Sunday

“So do not throw away your confidence, because it has great reward.
For you need endurance in order to do God’s will and so receive what is promised.”

Hebrews 10:35-36 NET

Accompanying thoughts from Beth Moore here.

My Cup Runneth Over and Maketh a Big Mess

Warning: Transparency Alert.

Disclaimer: I'm not out of hope and I don't dislike motherhood. In fact overall I'm surprisingly fond of it, but that's a story for another day. This is about these latter days and how they've taken their toll.*

We were joined in church yesterday by the missionaries to Cambodia who our church supports and whose grandmother goes to our church. Jeremy preached and besides telling stories that made me want to go back to Ethiopia, he used an example of a pitcher of water pouring into a cup sitting on a saucer sitting on a plate. The pitcher is God; he's always pouring and pouring his grace. We're the cup; God pours into us and it overflows into our family/loved ones/the things we hold most dear (the saucer) and then into the larger world, the people and places we touch in ministry/life (the plate). But if you put the saucer or plate over the cup, nothing gets into the cup. It stays empty or drys up.

Hmmm.

I'd say I am feeling dry, except it's more like drowning. There's grace all around me and most days I can even see it, but sometimes it feels like instead of drinking it in, I'm just flailing around and making a mess.

These days I am giving a lot to Anna, and that's a good thing. It's worthwhile and usually it's enjoyable. Sometimes it's downright fun. But it never, ever stops. It's just so constant, this mothering thing.

That might be okay if everything else weren't constant too. But it is, and over the last couple weeks all the demands of life, mine and ours and everyone else's, have been engulfing and overwhelming me. Sometimes I feel like I work thirteen hours a day and accomplish nothing. Too many to-do's and not enough done. Too many bills and not enough money. Too much conflict and not enough communication. Too many needs and not enough helpers. Too much work and not enough play and one dull boy and girl crashed vacantly on the couch with no energy for either.

Another day, another dollar. Two steps forward, three steps back.

Days and weeks like these can leave us feeling perplexed. What are we doing wrong? Why did God bring us to this spot? Am I doing enough? Am I doing too much? What if the money runs out? Is it my fault? Will it ever get easier?

Some of those questions I know the answer to; I just need to remind myself or hear the truth again. Some of them we'll never know the answers to. And for some of them we just have to play our hand out as best we can.

It's not like I haven't been here before, and knowing me, I'm sure I'll come back again. I'm thankful God gives more than enough grace to smooth over my ups and downs. Deep down I trust His work is not done in me and around me. I want to be a Psalm 27 girl:

I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.

Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.

(verses 13-14)

But let's get real: My confidence falters sometimes, with so much riding on it. I try to be strong and I just take on too much. My plate gets full and my cup gets blocked and runneth over and maketh a big mess. (And then leaves that mess in the kitchen for several days hoping it will clean itself.)

So yeah, I'm a Psalm 27 girl, deep down. But some days, in all honesty, it comes a little more naturally for me to be a Matchbox 20 girl: I really, really just wish the real world would stop hassling me. And you.

Please don't change
Please don't break
The only thing that seems to work at all is you . . .
I wish the real world would just stop hassling me and you

*Mmm, what I really need right now is some Good Dog Bad Dog for these latter days. All I need is everything. Will there ever be a time in my life when I can't come back to these lyrics? I submit that there will not.

The Truest Thing About Her

This year’s Young Life leadership camp speaker reminded us of a great truth: What is the truest thing about you? Your name. Who you are. Who God made you to be—his child whom he calls by name. You belong to God—in Amharic, Yegetanesh.

Yesterday at church, in the presence of friends and a great cloud of witnesses, Anna Jubilee Yegetanesh joined our church family through a simple affirmation of God’s covenant with us through baptism:

Aaron and Wendy, do you desire for Anna to be baptized?
We do.

Relying on God’s grace, do you promise to live the Christian faith and to teach that faith to your child?
We do.

Do you, congregation, as members of the church of Jesus Christ, promise to guide and nurture Anna, by word and deed, with love and prayer, encouraging her to know and follow Christ and be a faithful member of his church?
We do.

And so with joy we dedicated to God that which is already his yet ours to watch over. We cling to the covenant promise that as he calls her by name, he whispers to her soul the truest thing about her: Yegetanesh—you belong to God.

Let the people sing:

I have a Maker
He formed my heart
Before even time began
My life was in his hands

He knows my name
He knows my every thought,
He sees each tear that falls
And hears me when I call

I have a Father,
He calls me his own
He’ll never leave me,
No matter where I go

He knows my name
He knows my every thought
He sees each tear that falls
And hears me when I call

Tommy Walker, "He Knows My Name (I Have a Maker)"

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own, but belong—body and soul, in life and in death—
to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood,
and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.
He also watches over me in such a way
that not a hair can fall from my head
without the will of my Father in heaven:
in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him,
Christ, by his Holy Spirit,
assures me of eternal life
and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready
from now on to live for him.

The Heidelberg Catechism, Q&A 1

Beware the 5 D’s

Once upon a time in a land called Higher Ground . . . an idea was hatched and a man named Jeff B. fell out of his chair because it was so awesome. Some youth leaders threw chairs and trash all over a room and played grinding music with strobe lights, a man named Steph VH spoke some wise words, and Destruction Night lived happily ever after in the youth ministry hall of fame. And because a wonderful woman named Sara emailed them to me, the 5 D’s lived on to remind me this week of truth:

• DOUBT makes you question God’s work and his goodness
• DISCOURAGEMENT makes you look at your problems rather than at God
• DIVERSION makes the wrong things seem attractive so that you will want them more than the right things
• DEFEAT makes you feel like a failure so that you don’t even try
• DELAY makes you put off doing something so that it never gets done

I was definitely wrestling with a sumo-sized heap of Discouragement and Defeat after Tuesday’s call (Debacle?). Some days it just feels like no matter what you do, if you work hard and play by the rules, if you’re kind and reasonable and polite, if you prepare and save and sacrifice and jump through a thousand hoops, well, nothing happens. All you get is . . . tired. You wonder what you are thinking to take on this outrageous process called adoption and this monumental responsibility called parenting when you can’t even seem to handle your life as it is.

But then . . . you walk by the sea, you are offered a gift, you get the giggles, you listen to a friend. You find you have companions on the path, and you walk on. You determine that D is for DONE worrying about tomorrow’s troubles today, and lo and behold it feels much better than wallowing in destruction.

Assurance.

Encouragement.

Redirection.

Perseverance.

Action.

Note: I believe the 5 D’s were scammed from the Life Application Study Bible notes.
The others were gifts from friends.