Category: Holiday

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by the yoke of slavery (Galatians 5:1).

Today is Independence Day.  Today we celebrate our freedom.  Of course, as Americans we celebrate our national and political freedom. As men and women of God, we celebrate our spiritual freedom.  Christ has set us free from our bondage to sin.  He has set us free from our need to try and earn our salvation, to somehow save ourselves.  He has set us free from the stress and worry and angst and anxiety which so often attack us.

Hear me, Beloved.  I’m not saying that those things are gone.  On the contrary, sin and self-righteousness and anxiety are still very much evident in this world and, at times, in our lives.  What I am saying is that you are no longer in bondage to them.

When Paul wrote the above verse to the Galatians he was talking about freedom from the Mosaic Law.  Some Jews had chosen to follow Christ, but still felt compelled to meet the demands of the old covenant.  Paul was pointing out that a person who has Christ no longer needs the old law, and to try and follow it is to be like a slave who, once free, returns to his chains.

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that, for some of us, worry and stress operate in the same way as the Mosaic Law.

It’s about power.

The Judaizers liked the Law because it gave them a sense of control over their destinies.  They had rules to follow, stuff to do, that they thought would get them to Heaven.

“But Michael, I don’t worry because I feel powerful.  I worry because I feel powerless.”

Yes, but it’s still about power.  About control.  You worry because you know you are not in control, and you desperately want to be. Because if you’re not in control, someone else is, and there’s a part of you that just cannot handle that.

I’m in the same boat, by the way.  May I steer?  Of course not.

Sometimes trust seems beyond our grasp.  And without trust, there is no rest.

So let’s pray for trust today, shall we?  I’ll pray for you, and you for me.  Maybe we can both be set free.

Today is the day to celebrate your independence.

And your dependence.

Happy Fourth, Beloved.

Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

We are called to remember.

So…remember.

Remember the One who died that you might live,

who was bound that you might be set free.

And remember those who have followed His example, leaving their homes behind to travel to foreign soil, where they give their lives that you and I might be free.

Right now, as I write this, some warrior shoulders a rifle, or climbs into a chopper, or races toward a bomb blast, knowing that today could be the day that they are called to give “the last full measure of devotion.”

They may be terrified.

They go anyway.

For you

and me.

Remember, Beloved.

For great is your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths of the grave (Psalm 86:13).

Lost

Alone

Confused

Empty

These words describe how I imagine the disciples felt on that Sunday morning.  They must have figured that, after all, Jesus had failed.

Has anyone ever been more gloriously wrong?

On Sunday morning, Mary Magdalene went with some of the other women to make sure that the body of Jesus was properly cared for.  Oh, the surprise they got!  The tomb was empty, the body was gone, and an angel announced, “He is not here; He has risen!”

Can you imagine?

Seriously, can you imagine it?  Imagine going with Mary and seeing the stone rolled away, hearing the angel’s words.  Imagine being with the disciples when she brings them the news.  Imagine running with Peter and John to see for yourself, and finding the tomb empty, the grave clothes neatly folded.  Imagine standing with Thomas, the doubter, as he touched the wounds on his living Lord.

Imagine.

His death satisfied the requirements of the old covenant—a perfect sacrifice to cover all sin always.

His resurrection broke the power of Death forever, and ushered in the New Covenant—a promise of grace and hope and peace.

His return will bring the fulfillment of history, as he gathers those who put their trust in him and takes them home forever.

He is risen, indeed!

Walk in joy today, Beloved.

Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered, and I will turn my hand against the little ones (Zechariah 13:7b).

Everybody loves you when you’re winning.

What happened to the crowds?  Was it just last Sunday that the people were lining the streets, cheering for Jesus?  Now where are they?

Gone.

When the soldiers came for Jesus, the disciples scattered.  John followed, but at a distance.  He needed to know what was happening, but he couldn’t bring himself to intervene.

Peter, like John, followed at a distance.  He mingled with the crowd, where he could blend in and, hopefully, go unnoticed. While he was standing with a group, a servant girl recognized him. Here was Peter’s chance to stand tall for Christ.  Here was his golden opportunity to proclaim his loyalty to Jesus and stand with him—die with him, if need be.  After all, that is what he had promised Jesus.

What did he do?  You know what he did.  He denied his Lord.  Big, strong Peter couldn’t stand up to the questions of the lowliest servant girl.

What of the rest?  All we know is that they ran for it.

Don’t be too hard on the disciples.  I’m convinced they genuinely believed that they were up to the challenge.  When Peter said he would never betray Jesus, I think he meant it down to the marrow of his bones.  He didn’t have the courage, because he was only human.  Like us.  We know that John, and Mary, and a few others came to the cross before Jesus died; Jesus even spoke to John from the cross. But in the end, Jesus had to fulfill his purpose himself.

In the end, Jesus went to the cross alone.

He went to the grave alone.

He rose from the dead alone.

Because he had to.  That was the point—if anyone else could have done it, if anyone else could have helped, we wouldn’t have needed the perfect Son of God.

Jesus stood alone so that you will never have to.

Because he loves you.

You

Walk in thankfulness today, Beloved.

Good Friday

Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me (Psalm 41:9).

Betrayal

It’s a bitter, ugly word for a bitter, ugly deed.

Perhaps the worst thing about betrayal is that, by its very nature, betrayal involves someone you trust.  In a sense, you have to give the betrayer the power to hurt you by making yourself vulnerable. Those who never make themselves vulnerable to others can never be betrayed.

But then, they can never really love, either.

The most powerful of all persons made himself vulnerable, let himself be betrayed, to rescue his beloved.

That would be you.

Good Friday, Beloved

I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting (Isaiah 50:6).                          

He knew what was coming.  

There was no surprise.

He knew he would die to pay the price for our sins.  He also knew that more than death would be involved.   There would be pain, and humiliation, and loneliness.  The soldiers slapped him around. They laughed at him.  They dressed him up to look like a petty king, complete with crown of thorns.  They took his clothes. They spat on him.

And he took it.  For you.  For me.

The key to today is to remember that Jesus was not surprised by any of this.  He didn’t accidentally let his guard down.  He didn’t get caught up in circumstances beyond his control.  There are no circumstances beyond his control.  As he spent this day teaching in the temple, he was moving purposefully and steadily toward the pain that waited for him.   At any point along the way, Jesus could have ended this.  He chose to wait until he could say, “It is finished.”

The spiritual accomplishments of the Cross are so monumental that sometimes we forget about the physical agony Christ endured both after his arrest and on the Cross.  Remember it today, Beloved. Remember what he suffered, and why.  And don’t ever, in all the days ahead, wonder if you are worthy of any good thing.

You, Beloved, are worth dying for.

Happy Thursday

“The time is coming,” declares the LORD, “when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah.  It will not be like the covenant I made with their forefathers when I took them by the hand to lead them out of Egypt, because they broke my covenant, though I was a husband to them,” declares the LORD. (Jeremiah 31:31-34)

Most Christian churches take communion on a regular basis.  If you have been part of a church for many years, you can probably recite Paul’s words from memory

“The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread…”

How many times have you eaten the bread…or cracker, and sipped the wine…or juice?  What does it all mean?

The first communion took place during the Passover, a reminder of the Old Covenant.  The Passover celebrated the night that God supernaturally broke the power of the Egyptians over the Hebrews. He established a covenant with them, promising that he would be Israel’s God, and they would be his people.

Always.

For the most part, people in today’s world deal with each other through contracts.  A contract is a business relationship between partners.  Each side has obligations to and expectations of the other.  If these obligations and expectations are not met, the contract is broken, and the terms become invalid.  The people who were wronged by the violation of the contract can seek justice through an impartial third party, the court.

A covenant is more like family.  I give my children rules to follow, but those rules are for their benefit as much as, or more than, for mine.  If they violate those rules I will discipline them, but they will not cease to be my children.  My covenant with my children to love and support them as their father remains, even if, from time to time, they don’t live up to their end of the bargain.

Which they don’t.

Because they’re children.

Jesus brought his disciples, and all of us, a new covenant.  This covenant was not based in rules, but in relationship—in the person of Jesus himself.

Think about the relationships in your life.  Do they feel more like covenants, or contracts?  What about your relationship with God? Do you feel like you are under the grace of his covenant, or like you are bound to a contract which you cannot possibly fulfill?

You are a child of the covenant, Beloved.  He makes the promise. He paid the price.  All you need do is accept the grace that he offers.

Walk in that grace today.

…zeal for your house consumes me, and the insults of those who insult you fall on me (Psalm 69:9).

Jesus entered the city and went up to the temple.  It was Passover, the biggest holiday of the Jewish year, so the joint was really jumping.  Many people had come from a long way away to be part of the celebration.  Rather than transport all the animals you would need for the various sacrifices, it was normal and acceptable to buy what you needed when you got to Jerusalem.  The customary practice was for vendors to set up shop at a convenient place near the temple.

What Jesus saw when he arrived was dramatically different. The vendors had their booths and tables set up in the temple itself. They were operating in an area called the Outer Court, the only place in the temple where non-Jews could come to worship God. There they were, selling animals and changing foreign currency into local currency, and just generally carrying on noisy business, all while people were trying to worship.

Jesus was furious.  He knocked over the tables and chased the vendors out of there.  John even says that Jesus made a whip and used it to drive the blasphemers away.  He yelled at them, saying, “It is written, ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a ‘den of robbers!’”

This is not the meek and mild Jesus we think of from Sunday School flannel boards.

He is not holding a lamb on his shoulders.

He does not have little kids crawling all over him.

He is not happy.

This is the Messiah, the Lion of Judah.  This is a man of righteous integrity, protecting the purity of his father’s house.

Do the insults of those who insult God fall on you?  There are a lot of people out there who mock Jesus, and this is a prime season for them to do it in.  Does that bother you, Beloved?  What are you doing about it?  Do you stand for Christ in your daily world?  Look, I’m not calling you to grab a whip and chase the heathen out of town—but if you do, please send me pictures and I’ll post them.

There is no sitting for Christ.  You stand, or you fall.

Stand for him today, Beloved.

Note:  Time to celebrate Holy Week.  Not that every week isn’t holy, but you know what I mean.  I hope these excerpts from my book Easter–Beyond the Bunny help you explore the wonder of the Passion.  

Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!  Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!  See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey (Zechariah 9:9).

Jesus was arriving in Jerusalem for the Passover.  This week would be the climax of his ministry, and would represent the very reason he came to live among us.  The time had come to declare himself the Messiah.  (“Messiah,” by the way, is a Hebrew word that means “anointed one,” or “chosen one.”  The same word is translated “Christ” in the Greek.)

So, Jesus did what anyone would do—he sent for a donkey.

This really does make sense.  Zechariah had prophesied that the Messiah would arrive as a king, and would come to claim his throne riding on a donkey.  By arriving in this manner, Jesus was sending an unmistakable signal to the crowds.  Now I know that a donkey is not the manliest of animals…certainly not very king-like.  But to the Hebrews, the donkey was significant.  A king used a stallion when he rode to war, but a donkey when he came in peace.  Thus, Jesus came as the King of Peace, to make peace between man and God.

The crowds loved it.  They spread cloaks and leafy branches on the ground for Jesus to ride upon—sort of a red carpet treatment. They cried out “Hosanna!” which means, “Save us,” and, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.”  They were quoting Psalm 118, essentially acknowledging Jesus as Messiah and pledging themselves to him.

Crowds are so fickle.

As he descended the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem was spread out before him.  Jesus wept over the city, knowing that, though they praised him at that moment, they would soon turn on him.

Are we fickle, Beloved?  Do we praise him when the crowd is cheering and waving palm branches, but turn away when they scream and reach for the hammer and nails?

Serving this King is a serious business indeed.

Serve faithfully, Beloved.

…God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8)

It’s Valentine’s Day, right?

OK, so let’s talk love.

Forget the hearts and flowers.  Forget the candy.

OK, remember candy.  Candy is good.  But set it aside for the moment.

Real love sacrifices.  Real love gives, even when there is no reasonable expectation of a return on the investment.  Real love sees you at your worst, and does not turn away.

While we were still sinners.  While we were totally unworthy and unlovable.  Beyond pot bellies and vanishing hairlines.  Beyond bad hair and no makeup.  While we were steeped in darkness, inside and out, Jesus died for us.

For you.

Want him to prove his love?

He did.  We call it the Cross.

When I write these One-a-Days, I often call you “Beloved.”  I’m not putting the moves on you, nor am I trying to be J. Vernon McGee. I’m praying, along with Paul, that you, “May…grasp how high and long and wide and deep is the love of Christ.”

In the Song of Songs, God gives us a picture of the love between a man and a woman.  Beyond that, though, he paints a picture of Christ’s love for his Church.

He calls the Church his Beloved.

He calls you his Beloved.

And so will I.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Beloved.