Palm Sunday - Gratitude

Often when we look at the beginning of Holy Week, Palm Sunday, we look at Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. What it must have been like to see that. The cheering crowds, followers of Jesus, praising him and laying down their cloaks and palm leaves along the path of the donkey on which the Son of God rode. I wonder what was in their hearts:  Awe, admiration, love, ambition maybe, perhaps thanksgiving for the coming of the king they longed for.

In some ways, the start of this Holy Week for Jesus began not just on that first day of the week, but the evening before at a dinner held in his honor in the nearby town of Bethany. Bethany was the home of Jesus’ close friends, Lazarus, Martha and Mary. The same Lazarus that Jesus had recently raised from the dead. The same Martha who often opened her home and served Jesus, and had confessed to him, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.” The same Mary who listened at Jesus’ feet.  

This time Mary did more than listen. John tells us, “Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”

Mary was grateful for what Jesus had done for her brother and for their family. This act of kindness, or as Jesus put it, a precursor to the preparation for his soon to come burial, was not appreciated by all. Judas criticized what he saw as a waste of resources.

We should certainly help the poor, and using some of what we have to show gratitude to our Lord is always appropriate, too.

The next day, in the midst of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the praises of his followers, their gratitude was also criticized. “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”

Gratitude shows up in different ways:  An act of sacrificial kindness, spoken words, simple gestures of love. 

Once my daughter, young at the time, saw me coming into a restaurant for a reunion after being away for awhile. She ran to me and jumped into my arms, grateful we were together again. It didn’t matter who was watching or what others may have thought. She wanted to show her love for her Dad.

I pray I will always be ready to be thankful and show my love, no matter who is watching or what may be said.

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” Philippians 1:3

Really wish I (and we) would do this better

I have not originated or shared a political post on Facebook or other media in over four years, maybe longer. I may be mistaken, but that is what I recall. For me it just isn’t worth it, and it isn’t what drives my life. 

Unfortunately, I do find it difficult to resist the temptation to comment in disagreement from time-to-time on some political posts made by others. That is a temptation I really need to avoid. Not that my comments are only on one side of the political spectrum; I’ve commented my disagreement on posts from both the right and the left. But here are the reasons why it is a temptation that I must carefully watch:

1.  It seems that many don’t want to hear disagreement, only an echo of agreement. What I have to watch in myself is am I disagreeing just to rock the boat, or is there something I can contribute that can really lead to a better understanding for both us. I need to work on recognizing posts and other comments designed to engage, and recognizing posts made out of passion. The former really do want discussion; the latter do not. Both have their place, but avoiding any comments seems safer. I don’t always succeed in this.

2.  I can be just as passionate in my comments as what my friends are posting about. Then it becomes my passion vs someone else’s. No one wins or persuades in those cases. 

3. Emotions seem to often outflank (and outweigh) facts or other points-of-view, and choosing to reply can lead to unfortunate results. Sadly, my replies to four people led to their blocking me. I thought I was replying courteously, but in one case I partially agreed but offered up additional information from the source being discussed. I was blocked without explanation. In three others, I offered another point of view without really dismissing the original opinion. Blocked again. I am saddened by this, not just for being blocked but because I made a choice that led to the blocking, and two of the four were the adult children of friends I’ve known since they were born. 

4. Some are easier to engage with than others. Some of my long-time friends appreciate differing points of view, and others are miffed at me with even the suspicion of disagreement. I’ve learned that the hard way from experience. But the learning process has been painful. I wish I had discerned the difference better.

5. Wait. In some cases, wait a long while before replying. One of the best conservations I had with someone was over a scripture I had posted. They had been offended by the scripture and commented so. I started to reply, then almost deleted the comment. But finally decided to do nothing. Until several hours later, it came to me what may have been the best thing to say. I didn’t disagree with my friend, instead put into context the scripture I had shared. I wish waiting would be my first choice more often.

All that being said, I love my friends. I remind myself that I don’t love them because we agree politically - in nearly every case, we became friends long before we knew anything about each other’s political ideology. We love because of a lifetime of shared memories, we love because we’re family, we love because of our love for our mutual friends or mutual interests, we love because we serve the same Lord and Savior, and we love because He first loved us.

Stooping to See

The Church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem has long been believed to sit over the tomb of Jesus. Its foundations rest over the remains of a first century quarry, garden, and cemetery of rock-hewn tombs.  On any given day, believers from all over the world come to see the empty tomb, singing, chanting, praying, and giving glory to God in the languages of Europe, the Americas, Asia, and everywhere in between. 

We visited the church and tomb a few years ago. To enter the tomb, we had to stoop low to enter the first room and see a portion of the stone that is believed to have sealed the tomb, the stone the angel once moved and sat upon. Then we stooped down once again to see and to touch the now empty slab that once held Jesus’ crucified body.

Stooping down is how the Gospels described the posture of the first visitors to the empty tomb.  

“Peter jumped up and ran to the tomb to look. Stooping, he peered in and saw the empty linen wrappings; then he went home again, wondering what had happened.”

“Peter and the other disciple started out for the tomb. They were both running, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He stooped and looked in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he didn’t go in.”

“Mary was standing outside the tomb crying, and as she wept, she stooped and looked in.”

Each stooped to see into the tomb. They all stooped down to see that the tomb was empty.

Stooping, bending down was that first step to see, the first step to believe in the risen Savior.

The tomb they saw was empty. They didn’t expect it to be empty. But it was and still is.

“You are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Look, this is where they laid his body.”

The Day After - Isolation

The day after the crucifixion. The day after dreams were dashed, and hope was killed and buried.  The day of staying home, required by the law but driven by uncertainty for the future.

The Bible tells us little about this day. But it is a day we might can relate to now.  It is a day that perhaps more than any other time in our recent history, we can connect with the followers of Jesus. 

We stay at home, away from those we love who are also staying at home. Unless we are one in of the select jobs, we don’t travel to work. 

If someone we love is sick or dies, we can’t go to visit. We can’t go to the graveside. 

The streets are quiet.

How long?  We hope for not long, but we do not know for certain how long things will stay this way.

It is the day we look back on the way things were, trying to grasp how they so quickly changed.  We try to imagine the way things will be when the days of staying at home are over.

But it is also a day of being prepared and waiting. The Gospel tells us, “Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes. But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.” (Luke 23:56)

The women that followed Jesus made plans for the next day. They stayed home, but they prepared for what they thought would come next.

And because they had prepared, they were ready for what the next day would bring.

God, in my time alone I pray I am doing what I need to be ready for whatever the next day brings.

Good Friday - Pierced

It is not just a nail.  It is a very big and long nail. Six inches long.

During the years I traveled for business, I liked to pick up handicrafts that were unique to the city or country that was my temporary home. One trip to the Middle East, we had dinner at a restaurant built like an ancient ship. This nail was given to each of us, a replica of the nails used to hold together the seafaring ships of many centuries ago. 

A nail with a size that might have been useful for more than just ships.

Our Lord Jesus died by Roman crucifixion. The execution using nails, nails very much like the one I now have, to affix the condemned to a wooden support that was lifted just above the ground.  The prisoner, in order to breath, was forced to use their pierced hands and feet to lift themselves up. At some point pain and exhaustion prevailed.

A few years ago a movie, The Passion of the Christ, sought to show us the horror of execution by crucifixion. It was a very effective visual reminder of what Jesus went through on that Friday centuries ago.

The Gospels tell us the story of the crucifixion of Jesus, his words during those final hours, and the actions of his enemies, friends, family, and bystanders.  But what may be the best description of what happened to Jesus and what it means to us was written by the prophet Isaiah hundreds of years before that Friday.

“He was despised and rejected—

a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.

We turned our backs on him and looked the other way.

He was despised, and we did not care.

Yet it was our weaknesses he carried;

it was our sorrows that weighed him down.

And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God,

a punishment for his own sins!

But he was pierced for our rebellion,

crushed for our sins.

He was beaten so we could be whole.

He was whipped so we could be healed.” (Isaiah 53:3-5)

Oh, God. Never let me forget how Jesus was pierced so that I could be whole.

Holy Week Thursday - Gathered Together

I love bread. It is maybe the most favorite type of food I enjoy when I have a chance to travel.  Every country, every region has a type of bread that is unique. I love the varieties of shapes, taste, texture.

Bread features significantly on this day in the life of Jesus. He has asked two of his followers to prepare the Passover meal for all of them. They will have found the room and the elements of the meal itself, including the lamb, the herbs, the wine, and the bread.

Jerusalem must have been bustling that day as many households prepared the meal. We were able to catch a glimpse of what these preparations might make looked like a few years ago. We were in Jerusalem during Ramadan in 2017. Because the Muslim population fasts during the daylight hours of these holy days, bread is prepared and sold during the afternoon for the meals after sunset. As we passed by the markets, table after table were filled with stacks of bread, prepared for the evening feast.

Bread took a significant place during Jesus’ meal with his disciples that Passover evening.  During the meal, Jesus broke a piece of the bread and gave it to his disciples, telling them that the bread was like his body which would be given to them. Jesus also used a piece of the bread to indicate which disciple would betray him.

The symbol the bread took on that night has carried on throughout the history of the followers of Jesus.  

Paul, one of Jesus’ later followers and leaders, wrote to the church in Corinth, “when we break the bread, aren’t we sharing in the body of Christ? And though we are many, we all eat from one loaf of bread, showing that we are one body.”

The bread came to represent not just the body of Jesus, but all of His many followers who are described as the body of Jesus.

A later writing on Christian practices takes this thought even more deeply. The Didache, written around 100 AD, describes the bread this way.  “Over the broken bread say: ‘we give you thanks, Father, for the life and the knowledge which you have revealed to us through Jesus your servant. To you be glory for ever. As this broken bread scattered on the mountains was gathered and became one, so too, may your Church be gathered together from the ends of the earth into your kingdom.’”

Just as the bread we love has come from grain scattered from all over the land, we as the followers of Jesus, scattered as we are over all the earth, are brought together as one loaf, one body, the body of Jesus.

We are physically scattered today in ways that are difficult for us. But because of Jesus, the bread of life, we are one bread, the body of our Lord.

Holy Week Wednesday-Hope than stands out, love that acts

A few years ago, my wife and I traveled to the Great Plains states. With the miles and miles to drive between destinations in this part of the country, we tried to stop often to enjoy the scenery, historical locations, and just to get out of the car and stretch.

At many stops, we saw wildflowers blooming among the parks, grasslands, and rolling hills. These were the sweet “icing on the cake” of the beauty around us.

One day we drove through the Badlands in South Dakota. The rocky terrain there is colorful, but not much grows here. Mostly just grass, enough to sustain the big horn sheep that live among the canyons. But on one short walk on a path through the barren landscape, we caught sight of something that looked very out-of-place. A single sunflower blooming alone in among the dirt and rocks.  

A wondrous sight, completely unexpected but very welcome.

During the Passion Week in Jerusalem, a teacher of the law approached Jesus and asked him, which is the most important commandment in the law of Moses?

Jesus replied, “‘You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”

All my heart. All my soul. All my mind. In both the abundant pastures and fertile times, and in the barrenness of what may surround me. 

Love my neighbor as myself. Both when loving them is easy, and when loving them might go against what I feel like doing. 

Remembering Jesus’ reply on the first and greatest commandment, and on the commandment equal to it means to me that there may be times the love I give may need to be different from how I am used to giving it. And the hope I offer may need to be more than the blooms among blooms, but the bloom that stands above the barrenness of fear.

Holy Week Tuesday - Something Different

Nothing seems quite right these days. There are a lot less cars to compete with at the intersections during my morning walk. But I am seeing far more other walkers than I normally do. So, to practice the physical distancing guidelines, I am veering off the sidewalk onto the grass a lot more often than walks in the past.

The stores are nearly empty of people, but the many of the shelves are empty, too.

My 91 year old Dad needs me to help him, so I go to help,  but we can’t hug. I miss seeing and playing with my granddaughters. I visit with my family and spiritual family via technology, but can’t hug or hold them. I don’t like the forced physical distance.

What has this to do with Easter Week? Did that week seem normal to Jesus? To his disciples? To his enemies? 

A simple phrase appears frequently in the Gospel story of Holy Week.

“He returned to Bethany” in Matthew and Mark, and “each evening he returned to spend the night on the Mount of Olives” in Luke.

Jesus and his followers are in Jerusalem during the busiest week of the year. They spend nearly the entire daylight hours there, mainly it seems in or near the Temple. But each evening they leave the hustle and bustle for the hills. Some days it may have been with their friends in Bethany, other days it seems to be in the quiet of the olive groves on the slopes on the mount between Jerusalem and Bethany.

Jesus sought quiet. For himself and his friends. 

These days for us have been different. Maybe more quiet or maybe more activities at home.  But it has been something different.  

But different may be just what we need at the moment. Time away from the usual busy-ness of our lives. More time with the people that matter most. More appreciation for those we are not with that we long to be with. More time to pray by name for each one I love.

God, let me be always grateful for the moments you have given me.

Monday of Holy Week - Unexpected changes

When I used to travel on business, I might be away from home for over a month. Some trips were nearly two months long away from home.  As the business trips neared their end and the time to come home drew closer, I would look around at the sights, at the steps I was taking, at the things I was doing each moment and think, “This is the last time I will see this. Next week, I’ll be home”

Today was to be the first day of a new experience for my wife and I. This afternoon was to be the day we boarded a ship to sail across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe. We had been planning this trip for months. As recently as 25 days ago, we were still expecting to sail across the ocean with sights like this for several days in a row.

But as we all know, the world today isn’t the same world we lived in 25 days ago. Our plans had to change. Instead of ocean, we see the same rooms we see each day. Nice rooms and a nice house, but not the voyage we had planned for.

I wonder back to the Holy Week many years ago and the thoughts the disciples of Jesus had as they planned for the Holy Days coming at the end of the week, and their time with Jesus after that. We have an idea of their mindset during that week while they were in the Temple with Jesus.  

“As Jesus was leaving the Temple that day, one of his disciples said, ‘Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls.’”

And after Jesus told them, “Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another” the disciples asked, “Tell us, when will all this happen? What sign will show us that these things are about to be fulfilled?” (Mark 13:1-4)

These events Jesus told them were still years in the future, and he had already warned them about what was coming by the end of the week. But the unexpected changes coming weren’t on their minds. I doubt they could imagine the reality of, “This time this weekend.”

Father, when changes come I don’t understand (or even like), let my plans always be in your hands. And I will trust you when the unexpected comes.

Palm Sunday - The Lord Needs It

In June of 2017 we visited the Mount of Olives opposite Jerusalem.  While looking over the valley between the hill and the city, I saw this donkey tied up along the road.

It reminded me of the day Jesus entered the Holy City on the back of a young donkey, probably very much like this one. We were very near the route Jesus likely took into Jerusalem, and less than a 1/2 mile from the village where Jesus told his disciples to look for the donkey.

I have always been intrigued by Jesus’ instructions to the disciples:  “Go into that village over there,” he told them. “As soon as you enter it, you will see a young donkey tied there that no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks, ‘What are you doing?’ just say, ‘The Lord needs it and will return it soon.’”  

And even more intrigued by the response of the owners of the donkey to the disciples:  “As they were untying it, some bystanders demanded, ‘What are you doing, untying that colt?’ They said what Jesus had told them to say, and they were permitted to take it.”

Had Jesus prearranged this transaction?  Were the owners already acquainted with Jesus and his disciples?  

Or, and I think this is more likely, did they live in a society where the name of the Lord was held in such high regard, that those who asked for something in the Lord’s name were trusted to use it as asked, and trusted to return it as promised.  No collateral, just the promise and then the trust that the Lord needed the donkey.

When we promise in the name of the Lord, can we be trusted?  When asked for something in the name of the Lord, can we trust? 

What do I have that the Lord needs?  How will I respond to what the Lord needs?  Will I be part of the Lord’s plans, or will Jesus find someone else’s donkey to ride to the shouts of “Hosanna”, “God save us”?

“Rejoice, O people of Zion!

Shout in triumph, O people of Jerusalem!

Look, your king is coming to you.

He is righteous and victorious,

yet he is humble, riding on a donkey—

riding on a donkey’s colt.” (Zechariah 9:9)

Sunday - Witnesses

Sunday: “You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy. The reward for trusting him will be the salvation of your souls.” (1 Peter)

Witness. It is a powerful experience. To be there when it happens. To see with our very own eyes. To feel and touch history itself.

In my life I’ve been fortunate to see a bit of history. We were as near as the public is allowed for a space shuttle launch. I met, shook hands with, and interviewed a future Pro Football Hall of Fame Quarterback. I have witnessed a annular solar eclipse in Japan and a total solar eclipse in Nebraska. I can describe them to you, but it won’t be the same as being there. But I’ve never encountered someone dead, entombed for parts of three days, then appearing before me for a visit and lunch.

Thomas the follower of Jesus was faced with a problem. He knew Jesus was dead, yet here were his closest friends excitedly and joyously telling him that Jesus had been with them in that very room. It was too much, more than he could handle. Yes, the tomb was empty. Yes his friends had seen for themselves their risen Messiah. But, the dead just don’t come out of their graves, alive and standing before you. 

Thomas needed more. He hadn’t seen nor touched his Jesus. The others had (in fairness, had they really believed before Jesus showed up, risen and alive in the room with them?), and Thomas wanted that opportunity, too. Just to see and touch the evidence that Jesus really had been crucified and was alive again.

And eight days later Jesus gave Thomas the evidence. Jesus stood before Thomas and invited him to see and touch the wounds himself. Thomas could no longer doubt the impossible. The Messiah, who was once dead and buried, now was alive and talking right in front of him. His life was changed because he witnessed the risen Jesus. Tradition tells us that experience was such a life changing one that Thomas traveled as far as India to tell others what he had witnessed about who Jesus is.

I mentioned earlier a few events of history I have been fortunate to witness. Many of us have had similar experiences. We have been to places where history happened. Walked the fields of great battles, stood in the ancient buildings where great people have been, stooped our heads and entered the cave where a promised child was born, and another cave where this same promised Messiah was buried.

All of these experiences were moving. But none necessarily changed our lives. 

Our lives are changed because of witness of others, a message we believed, a Savior sent from the Father. We’ve never seen him, but we love him, we trust him, we rejoice in him. He has changed us.

Saturday - the in-between day

Saturday - the day in-between:  “As his body was taken away, the women from Galilee followed and saw the tomb where his body was placed. Then they went home and prepared spices and ointments to anoint his body. But by the time they were finished the Sabbath had begun, so they rested as required by the law.” (Luke 23)

“The next day, on the Sabbath, the leading priests and Pharisees went to see Pilate...they sealed the tomb and posted guards to protect it.” (Matthew 27)

“On Sunday, two of Jesus’ followers were walking to the village of Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem. As they walked along they were talking about everything that had happened. As they talked and discussed these things, Jesus himself suddenly came and began walking with them. But God kept them from recognizing him.

“He asked them, “What are you discussing so intently as you walk along?”

“They stopped short, sadness written across their faces...Our leading priests and other religious leaders handed him over to be condemned to death, and they crucified him. We had hoped he was the Messiah who had come to rescue Israel.” (Luke 24)

Dreams are dashed. Hope dies. Sadness is written across our faces. We look back on the past few days, maybe just the past few hours or minutes:  “How could things have changed so quickly?” “This wasn’t what I expected when I woke up this morning?”

We don’t have much to read about the day after Jesus died.  We read of the enemies of Jesus, not content with killing him, they conspire to make sure he stays in the grave.

Luke tells a bit about the sadness of the followers of Jesus. They had hoped that in Jesus their dreams would be realized. Now they don’t know what to hope.  Luke also tells us of the women, having just watched Jesus die they set about to help prepare his body for the grave.

Dreams were shattered. Hope was gone. Yet, they still walked. They still talked. They still rested. They still did what needed to be done for the one they loved.

We can look back and think, of course. Look what’s coming tomorrow. But they didn’t have a tomorrow to look back to.

They only had a sunset to face with dreams gone and hopes faded.

But after this sunset, the same questions would come once again:  “How could things have changed so quickly?” “This wasn’t what I expected when I woke up this morning?”

Good Friday

Good Friday:  “As they led Jesus away, a man named Simon, who was from Cyrene, happened to be coming in from the countryside. The soldiers seized him and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large crowd trailed behind, including many grief-stricken women.” (Luke 23:26-27)

On our visit to Jerusalem in 2017 we had the opportunity to walk the Via Dolorosa, the way of suffering. It is the traditional route Jesus took from judgement before Pilate to the place of crucifixion, the place of his execution. No one knows the actual path he walked - the city of Jerusalem has been destroyed and rebuilt since then, changed hands in bloody wars, and archaeology has improved our understanding of how the city once looked when Jesus was there. And Luke’s brief description above of Jesus’ journey through the city is the most detailed one we have.

What did the streets look like on that day before the Sabbath, the day of the execution of the King of the Jews? Did it look like today’s lanes, crowded with markets, shoppers, pilgrims?  Luke said a crowd followed, but to those they passed by - what did they see? Just another execution procession that they may have seen before? Soldiers,  a man compelled to carry a cross, another beaten and barely able to carry himself along, weeping women and others following along. 

Did they understand what they were witnessing? The lamb of God was being led out past them, through their midst, to be a sacrifice for their sins, for the sins of the world. Did they look up, take notice, then return to their business briefly interrupted? 

I hope each day that I will not be unaware to the events surrounding me, events orchestrated by my Father to bring me closer to him.  I pray I will take notice to what in the world God is showing and doing for me.

Thursday of Passion Week

Thursday of Passion Week:  “As they were eating, Jesus took some bread and blessed it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, “Take it, for this is my body.”

“And he took a cup of wine and gave thanks to God for it. He gave it to them, and they all drank from it. And he said to them, “This is my blood, which confirms the covenant between God and his people. It is poured out as a sacrifice for many.” (Mark 14:22-24).

In June of 2017, a group of us shared a Sunday memorial meal of bread and wine. Keeping with our own traditions, it was a small meal - a handful of unleavened bread baked that morning in Jerusalem, and a small olive wood cup filled with the fruit of the vine.

It is our way of remembering Jesus and honoring him for his death and sacrifice for us all.  The Passover, the sacred meal Jesus was sharing with his disciples, memorialized the meal eaten by Israel in Egypt on the night death came to the Egyptians, before the children of Abraham were set free from slavery. In the same way, our shared meal symbolizes the death of the Messiah, the blood shed that protects us from death, and points toward our freedom from the slavery of sin, because Jesus the Messiah conquered death.

We have been adopted as children of Abraham through Jesus. We have been set free. I pray I may live like one who is free and grateful for what the Father has done for and given me.

Wednesday of Passion Week

Wednesday of Passion Week:  “Then the Kingdom of Heaven will be like ten bridesmaids who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. The five who were foolish didn’t take enough olive oil for their lamps, but the other five were wise enough to take along extra oil. When the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.”

On our trip in June 2017 to the Holy Lands, we visited a shop in Bethlehem. Not a typical tourist shop, for they carried not only inexpensive tourist trinkets but also high-end hand carved olive wood, jewelry, and artifacts. One item we were drawn to was a Roman-era Jewish lamp and oil vase.

It reminded me of the parable of the bridesmaids that Jesus taught during the Passion Week. Of the ten bridesmaids, all had lamps but only five had prepared for the unexpected and brought extra oil. So when the groom finally arrived, they were ready to keep their lamps lit.

Over my life and even in just the last few days, I have experienced and in some cases suffered the unexpected. I have been let down, the simple things became hard to accomplish, muscles ached, I have been frustrated. Perhaps my expectations were set too high, sometimes they were reasonable but others’ priorities superseded. In all cases, my lamp was drained. 

For me, my extra oil is what I fall back on when my lamp is empty. Or more accurately, who I rely on to fill me with new oil when my lamp runs dry.

Jesus is coming and he will keep me prepared.

Tuesday of Passion Week

Tuesday of Passion Week:  “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones and all sorts of impurity. Outwardly you look like righteous people, but inwardly your hearts are filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness.” (Matthew 23:27-28)

In June of 2017, we visited the southern steps of the Temple Mount which date to the time of Jesus the Messiah. It is very likely Jesus walked these steps and taught from these steps.

From these steps, you can see across the valley to the slopes of the Mount of Olives. Now, as then, covered with tombs and graves.

It doesn’t take much effort to visualize Jesus gesturing across the valley as he spoke these words.

But the more difficult and challenging effort is to look at my life and into my heart to see if they are aligned. Is my life a life that gives glory to my Lord, and is my heart as dedicated to my Father as I want my life to be?  I want what is inside of me to give as much glory to God as what others can see.

Monday of Passion Week

Monday of Passion Week:  “Jesus stopped everyone from using the Temple as a marketplace. He said to them, “The Scriptures declare, ‘My Temple will be called a house of prayer for all nations,’ but you have turned it into a den of thieves.”  

We visited the Temple Mount in 2017, when this picture was taken. 

An area dedicated for non-Jewish followers of God to worship was being used for selling of animals for sacrifice and exchanging foreign currency for Temple currency. 

While the intent may have been well founded - easy access to a market to help the pilgrims to serve God - the result was a hindrance to the worshipping the Lord.  So Jesus cleared them out. 

What in my life may be created around good intentions, but is actually preventing me or others from approaching the Father?

A world turned upside down, and the God who makes all things right.

It was the day before Thanksgiving 30 years ago that my world turned upside down.  There is no need to go into details; those days are long past.  But they are a part of who I am today.  

The Thanksgiving back then was a feeling of a gathering storm, and a desperate hoping it would pass by.  But days later it hit and nothing was left unchanged.  The following December, Christmas, and January held little to celebrate.  Each day seemed to bring more darkness than the day before.  Christmas didn’t feel like a time to rejoice the coming of the King of Kings, but rather a time to wonder if it even mattered.  

 It took many days of the darkness to see that God did care and the newborn King did matter.  My family, hurting as much as me, stood with me.  My family in Christ comforted me and held me close, even when not understanding.  The darkness was still overwhelming until the night I took God with me for an evening walk.

I’ve spoken of this to a few, but have never written it down.  That night, full of frustration, anger, and sadness, I vented to God all that was in my heart.  It must have been a sight to anyone nearby, my one-sided conversation.  Finally, in a burst of self-pity I yelled out loud, “God do you know what it is like to lose your child?!”  The words had scarcely passed my lips when I shuddered with the thought, “My God, what have I just said?”  

And almost instantly I heard God gently answer in my heart, “Yes. I do know.”

The rest of the walk was in silence and tears. Even 30 years later, remembering that moment still fills me with emotion.

That night the darkness began to lift.

I began to see that my faith was not in what I could do about the situation, but in the God who did understand and could make right what was upside down.  

I had wrestled with the Lord and would never be the same.  God has been gracious all these years since. Difficulties still come, but God is always with me and I hear and see reminders of His grace all around me. And I am thankful. Not for the scars, but for the Lord who saw me through, for the world He has brought me to, for the life He has created in me.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year holidays still harbor the distant memories of difficult days. But they also remind me that God is with us, and His son the newborn King, Immanuel “God with Us” will never leave us in the darkness.

“The people who walk in darkness

will see a great light.

For those who live in a land of deep darkness,

a light will shine.” (Isaiah 9:2)

Israel/Greece - It's not easy being One 6/15/2017

Our final day on this excursion/vacation/pilgrimage to the Holy Land and Greece. And it has been a ride.  

It was a simple day.  A hot day, but simple.  We got an early start for the Acropolis, only a 15 minute walk from our hotel.  Cindy's knee and asthma were bothering her, so we received permission to use the elevator to ascend to the top. It was really more like a funicular or one of those skyscraper construction lifts attached to the side.  It was fun.

The plateau atop the Acropolis was a rocky surface with a few gravel paths.  But the temples!  It was amazing that such grand work was performed thousands of years ago. And built in only 9 years! We circled the three temples and enjoyed the experience with our friends from the tour, nearly all fellow church members.  

I know the Apostle Paul was in Athens, but it's not certain he went to the top of the Acropolis.

One place we know he went to the was Mars Hill, a rocky hill on the western side of the Acropolis.  This is where the Apostle Paul spoke to the high council of Athens in Acts 17.   There is a tablet imbedded in the stone that contains his words in Greek.  

Two of our young students with us read Paul's words aloud to us very near the same spot he likely stood at. Then our tour co-host, Ronnie, also our preacher, added some brief thoughts.

Our local tour guide, Thenia, closed with the observation that part of Paul's message was that we are all equal in the eyes of God.  That was a well accepted message in Corinth, with its multi-levels of society.  But it was not a message well received among the elite of Athens.

My thoughts turned to, have I absorbed that same message well?  How well has anyone? I pray this trip has reinforced for me what is important to God.

"There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Christ Jesus." (Galatians 3:28)

Israel/Greece - Fake vs Real 6/14/2017

Alas, it was time to leave our idyllic coastal town and head for the capital city of Athens.

We wound our way through the country roads on the way to the main highway, passing olive orchards, vineyards, citrus trees, and ripening apricot trees.  The latter proved to be a temptation too great to pass-up.  The bus driver pulled over at a roadside fruit stand and bought a bag of freshly picked apricots.  At our next stop he washed them for a mid-morning snack for us all.  I'm not a big apricot fan, but these were great.  

As for our first scheduled stop, we once again had a chance to see the Corinth Canal.  Completed in 1893, it is about 4 miles long, connecting the Gulf of Corinth of the Ionian Sea (between Greece and Italy) with the Saronic Gulf of the Aegean Sea.  Because of narrowness of the isthmus, people have dreamed of digging a canal here for nearly 3000 years.  It's rather narrow for today's shipping, but still a marvel.

On to Athens.  We arrived along one of the city's main shopping streets, sort of a hodgepodge of resale and antique stores, and caught our first glimpse of the Acropolis (which we will visit tomorrow).  That was kind of exciting, leaving me to wonder what ancient visitors, such as the apostle Paul, felt when first seeing the hilltop buildings.

We disembarked on this street, making our way to the central market.  There we saw dozens of butcher stands, well stocked with freshly butchered, or about to be, goats, cattle, and poultry.  In some cases, heads and tails and feet still attached.  In the center of the market was Epirus Taverna where we had lunch. Now, imagine eating a fantastic goat or chicken soup, while looking just outside the glass walls of the taverna at a ready to be butchered goat or chicken.  It tasted great!

Following our lunch, we saw the fish market, with all the varieties of today's catch on ice before us, then headed for one the plazas in town, the Monastiraki.  It is the home of a large flea market, souvenir shops, a church, and a great view of the Acropolis.  

We walked past the ruins of a library built by the Roman Emperor Hadrian in the 2nd Century, the former Roman Agora (market), and many other ruins before returning to more of the shopping streets.

From our hotel, we can see the ruins of temple of Zeus.  Our dinner was nearby at a great little Greek (what else) restaurant.  We had gyros, and learned that the way we get them in the US would be considered street food in Athens.  Ours were served with the bread and yogurt on the side.  Very tasty.

As I mentioned above, as we walked today we passed many shops.  Those that sold "real" stuff - brass, old DVDs, vinyl records (remember those?), and clothes, for example - didn't get a whole lot of attention from the tourists.  Instead it was the gift shops selling magnets, t-shirts (including some promoting Sparta, a rather odd thing it seems to sell in Athens), and Grecian urn reproductions that got most of the traffic.  And I confess, we've spent some funds at places such as this.  But in this city of so much authentic Ancient Greece, one wonders why the inauthentic gets so much attention.

"I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." (Philippians 3:7-8)