Eyes on the Prize

Our current message series, Resolved, takes us through holy week and uses this term as a double entendre to describe both Jesus perseverance to the end with his mission and our sin dilemma being settled once and for all. We all have experienced the difficulty of keeping resolutions, haven’t we?  I can’t speak for everyone, but in my experience it has a lot to do with a lack of this one particular commodity—perseverance.  As much as we may loathe the term, most, if not all of us, 

are quitters.

Like some of you, I’m a great starter.  I like trying new things.  I especially like talking about trying new things.  At times, I even like taking risks.  But then something happens. I meet opposition to my plans.  I encounter difficulty. I get sidetracked.  And eventually, what started as an awesome idea quickly winds up on a pile of good intentions.

Imagine the “assignment” that was placed before Jesus, God’s Son, as he entered his earthly life. Actually it started way back in Eden’s garden when the first batch of humans decided to blow the best deal ever and break ranks with their Maker. (Frank Sinatra only thought “I did it my way”

was an original idea.) God’s judgment was swift, expelling them from their Utopian lifestyle, 

but even worse, giving them nothing less than what they asked for: a life separate from Him.  

Still, God’s mercy was too great to leave man with no options. And right there He promised to make right again what we had screwed up.  In that moment, God’s resolution was made clear. 

To the Satanic serpent who deceived His beloved, He said:

I will cause hostility between you and the woman (Eve),
and between your offspring and her offspring (Jesus).
He (My Son) will strike your head, and you will strike his heel.

In my darker moments, I imagine Jesus hearing these words from His father’s lips and quickly retorting, “Easy for you to say, Dad.”  In fact, scripture never gives even the hint of a dispute between the Father and the Son regarding this plan.  Such was the level of trust and love between the two.  What we are told is that Jesus willingly took up the task, emptied himself (now there’s a theological discussion for you), and accepted the greatest rescue mission ever assigned. 

Paul writes in Philippians 2:

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!

We've all heard the cliches.  “Keep your nose to the grindstone.” “Quitters never win, and winners never quit.” But faced with this particular assignment, one can only ask “how did He do it?” 

Our culture is so quick to assign “hero” status to anyone who, in the face of injustice or adversity, casts fate to the wind and charges into the fray, regardless of its effects on one’s personal 

well-being.  But here’s the thing.  These decisions are often instinctive, made in either a moment of calamity or as part of a short term scheme or strategy to right a great wrong.

What puts Jesus, his incarnation, life, suffering and ultimate death in such a completely different category from other heroic acts is this: he lived, breathed, and focused on his mission from the moment His human mind could handle conceptual thinking.  As a child, He was taught the Torah, the first five books of what we today call the Bible.  He also learned the Psalms and became familiar with all the prophetical writings made available to Him, including the passages He would quote from Isaiah 61 to inaugurate his ministry, as well as the ones which described in graphic detail his eventual death in Isaiah 52 and 53.  And yet, He stayed the course.  Why?  The writer to the Hebrews proposes this as the reason in chapter 12:

…Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

And what exactly was the “joy” that was set before Him?  The same writer records in an earlier chapter:

In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through what he suffered. Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters.

What was the so-called “prize” on which Jesus kept His eyes for thirty-three years as a human being, and eons before as Creator of all that is seen and unseen? You and me. We were the prize. You are the prize. I am the prize.

So make your resolutions and maybe even break your resolutions.  But along the way, don’t forget your and my salvation was and is totally dependent on the Man whose resolve was never compromised.  It was, perhaps, the only mission that could truly be called a matter of life or death. This Easter, let’s offer deepest thanks to the One who kept His eyes on the prize…and never looked back.        

tad 

Life…a matter of inches

Last week, my dear wife Debby laid her father to rest—Irvin Paul Weaver of Lakeland, Florida. He was 91. Died in his sleep, like we all wish to die. In Christ, he was a devoted man of faith who reflected joy and love to all who knew him.  His smile could light up a room, even in his last, often pain-filled, days.  He and Debby’s mom celebrated their 70^th wedding anniversary just last November.

His desire was to go home to his Lord, but he also struggled to leave his dear bride behind, her recent years having been made more complicated by increasing dementia.  He sought constant reassurance that she would be okay.  He had similar thoughts for my wife, his only child.  Debby herself struggles with a degenerative brain disease which has compromised her speech, swallowing and balance, among other things. As Dad’s end drew near, he became increasingly concerned for her 

well-being.

So he patiently waited for that release.  Still he had a ready smile for everyone who came to visit him, 

and wanted his family and friends to know that he was ready to die.  He had trusted Christ for salvation and was at peace with his Lord.  After 91 years,

he had kept the main thing the main thing. A few years back, our pastor delivered an Easter sermon in which he spoke of life on this earth as being represented by, like, an inch, along an infinite line that stretches as far as the eye can see.  Most of us spend our time, energy and resources on making that little inch of time the most it can be, and we forget to prepare for the infinite amount of time we will spend in eternity.  Dad was prepared.

When the time came, I think he understood the apostle Paul’s frustration when he wrote, “for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. I am torn between the two: I desire to be with Christ which is better by far, but it is necessary for you that I remain in the body.” 

(Phil. 1:21ff).  Dad understood his life was not his own.  He had been bought with a price.  His days had been ordained and numbered by his Creator.  And it was his Heavenly Father’s decision as to when that homecoming would take place.

In our last conversation with him on the phone just two days before his death, Dad made sure to tell us how much he loved us, and he even complimented Debby on her speech over the phone. Like many of his generation, he was not known for being the most demonstrative person at expressing his feelings.  But as the end drew near, he seemed to be more attuned to the feelings of those he loved most, and began expressing his love much more directly.

Now that he is “gone,” I—we, too, experience an emotional paradox.  Sadness and joy. 

I used to think Juliet said it best in Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet: 

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.”  She was merely anticipating a momentary absence from her beloved Romeo.  She fully expected to see him again, and soon.  But then I read the words of John the apostle in Revelations 14, and concluded that his description wins the prize.

“And I heard a voice from heaven saying to me, Write: Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from now on: Yes, said the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.”

Though perhaps no experience associated with being human frightens us more or is more mysterious than death, John calls those who die in the Lord blessed.  And for obvious reasons.  In death, we are finally at rest.  We cease our striving.  Our struggles are over.  And we are fully in God’s presence—we are with the Lord.  He no longer is experienced where we are (condescension), but rather we experience Him where He is (ascension).

Dad could boldly face death, because the judgment and penalty for his sin had been paid in full by the One he trusted for salvation—His savior Jesus.  This week we were reminded that, for him and all other believers in Christ, suffering, pain, and loss are only temporary—only a part of this life. What endures forever is peace with God, joy in His presence, and sweet reunion with those who loved Him and have gone before us. As we celebrate the life and homecoming of Irvin Weaver, may each of us pray with the Psalmist: Teach us to number our days that we might apply our hearts to wisdom. 

(Ps. 90) After all, this life is about an inch.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      tad

SUNDAY'S COMING!

Let me take a moment to encourage each one of you who reads this, as you enter the home stretch of preparation for Holy Week.  The “90% of Life Is Showing Up” axiom is about as true during this time as anything.  I know your lives are full.  And I know some of your emotional and physical cups might be running a little low (if not approaching empty) right now.  Let me turn you to God’s Word for strength, comfort and inspiration.  You are an amazing team of people called by God to deliver the goods, the good news,
the greatest news in the history of mankind!  In about a month, you will participate in events which can actually alter a person’s destiny as the Holy Spirit is poured out and the word of God is sown into hearts.
 
Expect to be opposed in this pursuit.  Expect the enemy to try to discourage you,  to cause unrest in your home, to strain relationships with those you love; even to attack your body physically. Why shouldn’t he?  He is miserable and wants all the company he can get.  And you are retelling his worst nightmare for all the world to hear…about the week in history when a stake was driven into the very heart of evil, and every real or perceived enemy of God’s creation was annihilated. But stand firm in those times, remembering that “greater is He that is in you than
he that is in the world.”  Here are some more antidotes for discouragement:

How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion,

 “Your God reigns!”  (Is. 52:7)

You who bring good tidings to Zion, go up on a high mountain. You who bring good tidings to Jerusalem, lift up your voice with a shout, lift it up, do not be afraid; say to the towns of Judah, “Here is your God!” See, the Sovereign LORD comes with power, and his arm rules for him. He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.(Is. 40:9-11)

Do you not know? Have you not heard?  The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. (Isaiah 40 – selected verses)

Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the Lord has been good to you. For you, O Lord, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, that I may walk before the Lord in the land of the living. (Psalm 116:7-9)

The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them. (Psalm 145: 18-19)

The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you,

 he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing. (Zephaniah 3:17)

Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you. Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith. . . . And after you have suffered for a little while, 

the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you.(1 Peter 5: 7-10)

I love each one of you and so appreciate your tremendous investment of time and energy. You sound amazing and your attitudes towards each other are little acts of worship themselves. You are bringing delight to God.  May you also bring many others to Him through your ministry this Easter!        

tad

Prime Time

The apex of the Christian calendar is upon us.  As churches all over the globe “ramp up” for Holy Week, culminating in the glorious celebration of the resurrection, the stakes are high.  Once or twice a year—usually Christmas and Easter, we enjoy a heightened curiosity, if nothing else, in the Christian gospel from outsiders.  As irreligious as our culture is becoming, there remains a tradition, at least, of attending church on these two holidays (originally “holy-days”), giving the local congregation a semi-annual opportunity to state its case.

On the plus side, the Church can anticipate a larger than normal “captive” audience—however one might define that term under these circumstances. On the down side, some within the flock have actually grown to resent these “Chreasters” as they are sometimes referred to, indicating a brand of Christianity which assembles only on Christmas and Easter.  This is, of course, the very last thing one would hope for when opening our doors and welcoming anyone who joins us…on any given Sunday. The moment I detect you resent my visit as your houseguest, I make it a point to avoid future engagements.

Additionally, we as worship leaders and artists can feel greater than normal pressure to “produce” a spectacle, to create services which will move and stir people…perhaps to even manipulate the telling of these stories to produce a desired effect.  After all, we only get this one chance to make a lasting impression.  To say we’ve come a long way from how these events originally took place is the grossest of understatements.

No, there were no special effects, no power ballads, no stirring videos or brass ensembles...not on that first Good Friday…not even on the original Easter morning.  In fact, for a culture that is fairly big on “reenacting” these nodal events, we’ve rather strayed from their original elements and from the emotions that they evoked.  Think for a moment of just a few:

mystery

wonder

confusion

humiliation

terror

pain

abandonment

grief

shock

awe

joy

When is the last time you experienced even a small dosage of any of these attending or participating in a Good Friday or Easter service? And yet, I believe, Jesus cautioned us at his last meal to not forget…not only these events, but the impact they had on the human experience.  “Do this in remembrance of Me,” He said.  Savor this story.  Live in its profundity.  And under no circumstances, let its retelling devolve into mere entertainment.

Might I propose that as Christian musicians and artists desiring to make an impact this season, we begin by saturating ourselves with the narrative recorded in all four gospels.  Under the banner of “I was there when they crucified my Lord,” let us make time to meditate on those very first days of what today we call Christianity.  Through eyes of faith and the gift of a sanctified imagination, place yourself in the upper room at Christ’s last meal, find a space under the cross on Golgotha’s hill, huddle with friends in yet another upper room on Easter evening, and timidly approach Jesus on the beach as a forgiven disciple, and hear once again Him ask and answer: “Do you love me?  Feed my sheep.”

Musicians, technicians—that’s all we’re really called to do as we fulfill our ministry this upcoming Easter season.  Feed.  Nourish.  Share.  Comfort.  Inspire.  Forget relying on the bells and whistles, the big moments, producing the requisite “wow” factor.  If you wish to “reenact” those first events, allow yourself to be poured out like Jesus, giving of yourself sacrificially, and considering it an honor and privilege to offer even one cup of cold water to a thirsty soul.  Yes, even to a curious “Chreaster.” Remember, for him or her, it’s prime time…perhaps even more so than they know.

tad