Seeing Double

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the earth.

Isn’t that just beautiful?

There’s something restful in the simplicity of that statement. I pray we never miss that. The Bible doesn’t apologize for God or His creation. It doesn’t start with eloquent attempts to convince you of His existence, nor of His ability to create ex nihilo. The very idea that either of those base assumptions is even questionable is foreign to the authors of Scripture. It was foreign to Jesus. And I think, if we’re honest with ourselves, it’s foreign to you and me.

I think in our heart of hearts, each one of us knows that, in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. How could he not? (A question which, interestingly enough, people are desperately trying to answer. I’m not convinced.)

It’s key that we understand this, because this is only the first part.

Rediscovering Grace

I have to say every time I feel like I am getting it, you know this whole following Jesus thing...

I get wrecked all over again.

In fact, grace is so amazing that there is more than one thing to say about it. By grace we do wonders (Acts 6:8), by grace we are justified (Rom. 3:24), by grace we exhort (Rom. 12:3), by grace we build (1 Cor. 3:10), by grace we work hard (1 Cor. 15:10), by grace we give generously (2 Cor. 8:7), by grace we use our gifts (Eph. 4:7); by grace we are strengthened (Heb. 13:9), and by grace we are saved (Eph. 2:8). Every good thing we do, every true thing we believe, every bit of resting, every bit of striving, every mercy and every effort is by grace (James 1:17).

God has this way of forcing me to rediscover and wrestle with the concept of Grace over and over and over and over again...

And then again and again.

Have you had this kind of experience?

Swimming in the Water of Life

The more I’ve sought God’s heart, the more I feel that I’ve misunderstood Him. His wild heart, I’ve tried to keep in a box and tame to my liking; His courageous and fierce love, I’ve tried to mute into mere kindness. I’ve tried to contain Him, control Him, and the more I’ve realized how big God is and how small sometimes we make Him, the more I see that I’ve only been drinking His free gift of the water of life. I haven’t been swimming in it.

In the Bible we aren’t really invited to “come and swim” in the gift of life - it would be a pretty weird invitation, one Jesus’ disciples would probably hear and just kind of look at Jesus. Swim? Really, Jesus? Why can’t you say something normal like ‘Come and live’ or ‘Come and drink of the water of life?’ And He does.

In John 4:13-14, He says, “Everyone who drinks of this [tangible] water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

He invites us to come, to come and drink, gulp it down if we need to, but I think that maybe in that invitation, He means something more. Maybe He means that after we’ve learned to drink a mere glass of His love, He’s going to teach us what His water looks like, tastes like, feels like, by pouring it out on us. Pouring it over us, around us, beneath us, behind us - showing us just how big of a God He is, that He can not only fill us, but fill every crevasse around us, every crack of brokenness within us. When we only experience His living water by drinking it glass by glass, it would be easy to begin to believe that God’s gift of life is small, and containable. 

Finite Failure; Infinite Hope

Last week, I was given the opportunity to speak at my youth group. It was a great experience, but it was just one of those times where, whether or not it's true, you feel that you've failed. Have you ever had one of those times? I just knew, as I was giving the message and after I finished, that my heart and mind were not in the right place. And I could have done so much better. Regardless of what everyone else thought or could say, in my eyes, I felt I had failed.

That's always how it is when we mess something up, isn't it? People can try to convince us we did fine, that we didn't make that big of a mistake, that it wasn't noticeable, but we are our own worst critics. Though our convictions tend to waver so often in other areas of life, we are convinced, so stubbornly, of our failure. If you've ever failed (which, I'm pretty sure you have since you're human), or if you're half as hard on yourself as I am on myself, you know that those feelings of disappointment and even shame are heavy. I was disappointed.

Simple Sunday

“Do not fear the conflict with passions and sin, do not flee from it: where there is no struggle, there is no virtue; where there are no temptations for faithfulness and love, it is uncertain whether there is really any faithfulness and love for the Lord. Our faith, trust and love are proved and revealed in adversities, that is, in difficult and grievous outward and inward circumstances, during sickness, sorrow and privations.”

 -St. John of Kronstadt

The Beauty of Life to the Full

In our culture today, it's become quite popular to live out the easy-to-swallow pieces of Jesus' testimony while discarding the rest. It’s too difficult? Toss it out. Too controversial for popular culture? It couldn't possibly be true. Confusing or a bit uncomfortable? Forget it - literally. It's almost a trend, and it's an easy one to follow. 

In order to make ourselves happy, we fragment the gospel and take for ourselves the pieces that best fit us without changing our hearts. We like a message that doesn't step on anyone's toes, but the more we seek out who Jesus is, the more we find that Jesus wasn't like that at all. He was okay with contradicting someone or saying something hard if it meant leading them to true, full life.

The truth is, this trend that is even sweeping some churches is fragmenting the gospel - it's splintering it, severing it, to distribute to everyone in part but to none in full. Some of us have, and accept, just enough of Jesus to make us miserable. It’s a pretty simple truth: when we accept only fragments or parts of Jesus and His words, we will never experience true life fully.

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” John 10:10

Yet there’s something about that word “abundantly” - as some other translations put it, “to the full” - that has always sort of struck a chord in my heart, and made it ache with a longing. Maybe it does to you as well - the thought of life to the full, free and bursting with joy, overflowing with hope and vibrant in color and laughter, even with dynamics of pain and struggles and confusion coming into play. Compared to the life many of us feel like we’re living - one of going through the motions, hoping for something true to catch our hearts - life to the full can sound foreign, and enticing. To some of us, it might even sound impossible.

When we decide that because something in the Bible is too difficult that we'll simply disregard it, we reject abundant life, the life Jesus gives. And the confusing, frustrating, messy parts of the Bible that awaken in us questions and discomfort are often where most beautiful truths are uncovered. They take some digging, some time and a lot of prayer, but through accepting all of God's word, we can embrace the fullness of life He offers - and we are so desperately in need of the Giver of Life.

Hope is Holding on too

Could you imagine being the disciples of Jesus on this Saturday after the crucifixion?
What would be going on in your head?

What would you be thinking?
Today I want us to try and get inside the heads of the 11 remaining disciples. They are locked in the upper room not knowing what to say or do...
They are just there. Waiting.

This Holy Saturday is a day of waiting. It is a day of mourning. It is a day of fasting and prayer. It is a day where we remember that our Savior was silent.
And it is a day where we reflect on how great our God is, even in the silence.

Silently. We sit.

Patiently we wait.

Prayerfully we hope.

A stillness comes across our hearts.

Quiet voices like darts.

There's something more going on here.

Of which we have nothing to fear.

But there’s something else going on.

The Lord… he’s gone.

But is he?

They pondered.

His enemies…

They Remembered.

They feared his promise.

His words are ageless.

Sunday is coming.

But for now we sit.

That curtain just split.

What does it mean?

As we think about yesterday’s scene.

Friday… Oh Friday… How could such a day be good?

A definition… won’t fit.

Part of us would just want to quit.

But there is hope… a still small hope.

To hold on… it’s a struggle, like gripping wet soap.

How could this happen?

Why were we chosen?

The 11 of us left…

Judas’ space open cleft.

Who would have thought…

He would have left us so distraught.

This Saturday waiting… clenching… holding…

There’s something more to this tale…

There’s no way he could have been finished with a nail.

Why, what… How are we supposed to cope?

Our whole lives were given up for this hope.

This need, this feeling.

We knew he was something more, something new.

It was God with whom we were dealing.

Is this how God came to our rescue?

We don’t understand, but we don’t have anything more.

We’re stuck hoping on a chance, locked behind this door.

This Saturday is like all days before.

It’s over it’s finished.

But yet there is something more.

Sunday is coming.

There’s a new drum strumming.

Weakness is over us,

failing strength isn't a plus. 

What else can we do,

Nothing.

But...

Hope is holding on too.

This day... We wait.
We are still.

Friday, Oh Friday.

A serpent with a tree vanquished Adam. Christ vanquished the Serpent. A tree sent Adam to Hell. Christ brought him back from there. A tree revealed Adam in his weakness, laying prostrate, naked and low. Christ manifested to the world a victory by being nailed, naked and high. Because of a tree, Adam passed a sentence of death upon everyone, Christ passed a sentence of life through his death, giving life to all.

And how did Christ go about this? 

From a tree.

What About the Centurion?

This post waited until 3 PM (EST) for a reason.

It was at the ninth hour that Jesus died.
It was the ninth hour that the earth quaked violently.
It was the ninth hour that the Roman Centurion at the foot of the cross said, "Truly, this man was the son of God."

We know very little about him. In fact, he is only given two short mentions throughout Mark’s entire Story of Jesus. He was the man who stood there, nailing Jesus to the cross. Most would simply just glance over the detail, but he’s there – a minor character in the plot who plays a major role.

We can only assume, from a historical perspective, that this centurion would have had the same attitude towards Jesus as he would during any crucifixion. This would have been a sport to him, more than just a simple game though – this was his life. He was the power of the sword for the governor of Judea at the time. He brought the greatest punishment that Rome used in those days for a political revolutionary. He probably didn't have any feelings of remorse for what he was doing – he couldn't. His job dictated that he couldn't have emotions that would stop him from accomplishing the task laid before him.

The story goes as any crucifixion does – this Jesus whom he nailed to the cross three hours later cried out in a loud voice, breathed His last and then died. The centurion knew he finished his job. Then, the temple veil was torn in two and the ground shook with a great earthquake – that’s when the Roman centurion shifted. He made the same great confession that Peter made just seven chapters earlier, “Truly this man was the Son of God!”

The second mention made of the centurion is in Mark 15:44, just a few verses after this great confession.  We know it must be the same centurion that Mark just mentioned, or else it would have been crazy for Mark to use a definite article to describe him as “the centurion” (τὸν κεντυρίωνα). It is no mistake that Mark would set him as the one summoned by Pilate to confirm the death of Jesus Christ on the cross – after all, he was there.  We can only assume that the centurion would have been there when Joseph of Arimathea took the body of Jesus off the cross. And we can only imagine what was going through the head of the man who nailed the Son of God to a tree.

One can only imagine if he became a Christian after hearing of the resurrected Christ. One can only imagine if he gave up the life he was living as a member of the Roman military – one who was called upon to execute rebels. We are left wondering what ever happened to this man who nailed Jesus to the tree.

Today, on Good Friday, we remember Jesus who died, but also we remember the Centurion, who figuratively represented all of mankind as he nailed Jesus to the tree. We remember that... the Centurion is no different than us.

We remember his great confession and we say it ourselves, "Truly, this man is the Son of God!"

---

Thomas Montgomery
 
resides in Joplin, Missouri where he studies Psychology and Counseling at Ozark Christian College. His hobbies include hiking, cooking, reading, eating Chick-Fil-A, growing his beard, and talking to people about the person of Jesus Christ. He loves people, evidenced by his service to the church and those who do not yet know Christ. Thomas, who was an EMT for some time, wants to counsel firefighters and paramedics in the future.

What about the Pharisees?

I have a few questions concerning these guys.

What were they doing out so late?!?

Matthew 26:3-5 tells us, 'Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas, and plotted together in order to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him. But they said, "Not during the feast, lest there be an uproar among the people."'

Which leads us to ask why they did it... literally just after the feast?

Wouldn't that still cause an uproar?

Maybe they decided that that... is what they wanted.

So what about these Pharisees?
I think so many things were going on during this night that it is impossible to only focus on this group of religious leaders.
Because there was more going on around them.