Archive for April, 2006

It was like discovering the prize in a box of Crackerjacks or spotting a little pearl in a box of buttons or stumbling across a ten dollar bill in a drawer full of envelopes.

It was small enough to overlook. Only two words. I know I’d read that passage a hundred times. But I’d never seen it. Maybe I’d passed over it in the excitement of the resurrection. Or, since Mark’s account of the resurrection is by far the briefest of the four, maybe I’d just not paid too much attention. Or, maybe since it’s in the last chapter of the gospel, my weary eyes had always read too quickly to note this little phrase.

But I won’t miss it again. It’s highlighted in yellow and underlined in red. You might want to do the same. Look in Mark, chapter 16. Read the first five verses about the women’s surprise when they find the stone moved to the side. Then feast on that beautiful phrase spoken by the angel, “He is not here, he is risen”, but don’t pause for too long. Go a bit further. Get your pencil ready and enjoy this jewel in the seventh verse. The verse reads: “But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee”.

Did you see it? Now tell me if that’s not a hidden treasure.

If I might paraphrase the words, “Don’t stay here, go tell the disciples,” a pause, then a smile, “and especially tell Peter, that he is going before you to Galilee.”

What a line, It’s as if all of heaven had watched Peter fall – and it’s as if all of heaven wanted to help him back up again. “Be sure and tell Peter that he’s not left out. Tell him that one failure doesn’t make a flop.”

Whew!

No wonder they call it the gospel of the second chance.

Not many second chances exist in the world today. Just ask the kid who didn’t make the little league team or the fellow who got the pink slip or the mother of three who got dumped for a “pretty little thing”.

Not many second chances. Nowadays it’s more like, “It’s now or never.” “Around here we can’t tolerate incompetence.” “Gotta get tough to get along.” “not much room at the top.” “Three strikes and you’re out.” It’s a dog-eat-dog world!”.

Jesus has a simple answer to our masochistic mania. “It’s a dog-eat-dog world?” he would ask. “Then don’t live with the dogs”. That makes sense doesn’t it? Why let a bunch of other failures tell you how much of a failure you are?

Sure you can have a second chance.

Just ask Peter. One minute he felt lower than a snake’s belly and next minute he was the high hog at the trough. Even the angels wanted this distraught net caster to know that it wasn’t over. The message came loud and clear from the celestial Throne Room through the divine courier. “Be sure and tell Peter that he gets to bat again.”

Those who know these types of things say that the Gospel of Mark is really the transcribed notes and dictated thoughts of Peter. If this is true, then it was Peter himself who included these two words! And if these really are his words, I can’t help but imagine what the old fisherman had to brush away a tear and swallow a lump when he got to this point in the story.

It’s not every day that you get a second chance. Peter must have known that. The next time he saw Jesus, he got so excited that he barely got his britches on before he jumped into the cold water of the Sea of Galilee. It was also enough, so they say, to cause this backwoods Galilean to carry the gospel of the second chance all the way to Rome where they killed him. If you’ve ever wondered what would cause a man to be crucified upside down, maybe now you know.

It’s not every day that you find someone who will give you a second chance – much less someone who will give you a second chance every day.

But in Jesus, Peter found both.

A little boy smiled as he played within an octopus of tubes and electrodes that measured his every breath and all his vital signs. He looked up and said, “My IV is out,” sending a student scurrying down the hall to the nurse’s station. A little girl in a room down the hall lay quiet in her bed. Her tiny bald head peered through the hospital rails at the visiting students. “I have cancer.” She whispered. “I can spell it for you.”

In addition to their illnesses, the children in this hospital had one more thing in common; the need for medical supplies and services that their insurance companies would not cover. That afternoon, a routine tour of the hospital for thirteen college students, became a year-long project as we realized these kids needed more than our visits.

We called ourselves the “Dream Team”. Working with Children’s Miracle Network, we spent the next year planning a thirty-two-hour dance marathon that would raise the money. In the face of the courage and energy shown by these kids, no one could see thirty-two hours of nonstop dancing as much of a task. We had no problem collecting over three hundred student volunteers to plan the event. “Thon” fever had exploded on the campus and in the community. Our goal was five thousand dollars, and we were sure we would meet it.

Each sorority, fraternity, residence hall and student organization ‘adopted; the family of a sick child. The monthly visits to football games. Chapter meetings and dinners in the cafeteria. The students followed their child’s health, wrote cards and made frequent trips to the hospital. The children were given love and the hope that they might be able to go to college themselves one day. Students stood at intersections in minus-forty-degree wind chill, collecting spare change. Faculty and staff donated a dollar every Friday for ‘Dress Down for the Kids Day’, and other donations poured in as the event drew closer.

A week before the dance marathon began, an urgent plea came from one of the families. Their twin boys had leukemia, and one needed a bone-marrow transplant. A donor had to be found, but the process for finding a match was painful and costly. Students by the hundreds stood in line and paid twenty five dollars each to have their blood sampled. No donors were found.

The marathon began at 10.00am on a cold Saturday morning. Over a hundred dancers filed into the recreation center, now transformed into a playground of games, music and food. Little kids were everywhere, some in wheelchairs, some wheeling iv’s around, some with only a tiny layer of fuzzy hair on their heads. Dancers whirled in t-shirts and said “I’m dancing for Kristen.” Morale volunteers brought candy and gave foot massages as the night wore on. At the thirty-first hour, the families assembled on stage to tell their stories. Some had children who were too sick to attend, some had lost children only days before. A four-year-old clutched the microphone and stood on tiptoe to say, “Thank-you for raising money to save my life.” Then the parents of the twin boys took the stage, alone and holding hands by the microphone. The room fell silent. Exhausted dancers stood up straight. Into the hushed room the parents said. “Tonight we are here alone because our son is getting ready to go into surgery tomorrow morning. Earlier today a bone-marrow donor was found.” Then they could no longer speak. With tears streaming down their cheeks, they mouthed the words “thank-you”. Then a group of students assembled on stage holding pieces of poster board , each with a number painted on it. Slowly they help them up to reveal the total amount that the dream team had raised: $45,476.17. The crowd went wild, dancers started running around the floor and families were crying. Everyone knew it had been thirty-two hours of miracles.

- Diana Breclaw (Chicken Soup for the College Soul)

It’s quiet. It’s early. My coffee is hot. The sky is still black. The world is still asleep. The day is coming.

In a few moments the day will arrive. It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun. The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met.

For the next twelve hours I will be exposed to the day’s demands. It is now that I must make a choice. Because of Calvary, I’m free to choose. And so I choose. I choose love…..

No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness. I choose. Love. Today I will love God and what God loves.

I choose joy….

I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance. I will refuse the temptation to be cynical … the tool of the lazy thinker. I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God. I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God.

I choose peace…

I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live.

I choose patience…

I will overlook the inconveniences of the world. Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I’ll invite him to do so. Rather than complain that the wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment to pray. Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will faced them with joy and courage.

I choose kindness…

I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid. And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.

I choose goodness…

I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one. I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I will accuse. I choose goodness.

I choose faithfulness…

Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust. My associates will not question my word. My wife will not question my love. And my children will never fear that their father will not come home.

I choose gentleness…

Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle. If I raise my voice may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer. If I make a demand, may it be only of myself.

I choose self-control…

I am a spiritual being. After this body is dead my spirit will soar. I refuse to let what will rot. Rule the eternal. I choose self-control. I will be drunk only by joy. I will be impassioned only by my faith. I will be influenced only by God. I will be taught only by Christ. I choose self-control.

Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. To these I commit my day. If I succeed I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek his grace. And then, when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.

At last she drew near. She stood by Aslan’s head. Her face was working and twitching with passion, but his looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before she gave the blow, she stooped down and said in a quivering voice, “And now, who has won? Fool, did you think that by all this you would save the human traitor?

Now I will kill you instead of him as our pact was and so the Deep magic will be appeased. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him as well? And who will take him out of my hand then? Understand that you have given me Narnia for ever, you have lost your own life and you have not saved his. In this knowledge, despair and die.” The children did not see the actual moment of the killing. They couldn’t bear to look and had covered their eyes.

- C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

Road. Dark. Stars. Four. Sandals. Robes. Quiet. Suspense. Grove. Trees. Alone. Questions. Anguish. “Father!” Sweat. God. Man. God-man. Prostrate. Blood. “NO!” “Yes”. Angels. Comfort.

Footsteps. Torches. Voices. Romans. Surprise. Swords. Kiss. Confusion. Betrayal. Fearful. Run! Bound. Wrists. Marching.

Courtyard. Priests. Lamps. Sanhedrin. Caiaphas. Sneer. Silk. Arrogance. Beard. Plotting. Barefoot. Rope. Calm. Shove. Kick. Annas. Indignant. Messiah? Trial. Nazarene. Confident. Question. Answer. Punch!

Peter. “Me?” Rooster. Thrice. Guilt.

Proceedings. Court. Rejection. Prosecute. Weary. Pale. Witnesses. Liars. Inconsistent. Silence. Stares. “Blasphemer!” Anger. Waiting. Bruised. Dirty. Fatigued. Guards. Spit. Blindfold. Mocking. Blows. Fire. Twilight.

Sunrise. Golden. Jerusalem. Temple. Passover. Lambs. Lamb. Worshipers. Priests. Messiah. Hearing. Fraud. Prisoner. Waiting. Standing. Shifting. Strategy. “Pilate”. Toga. Annoyed. Nervous. Officers. Tunics. Spears. Silence. “Charge?” “Blasphemy.” Indifference. Ignore. (Wife. Dream.) Worry. Interview. Lips. Pain. Determined. “King?” “Heaven.” “Truth?” Sarcasm. (Fear). “Innocent!” Roar. Voices. “Galilean!” “Herod”.

9:00 a.m. Marchers. Palace. Herod. Fox. Schemer. Paunchy.

Crown. Cape. Scepter. Hall. Elegance. Silence. Manipulate. Useless. Vexed. Revile. Taunt. “King?” Robe. Theatrical. Cynical. Hateful. “Pilate!”

Marching. Uproar. Prisoner. Hushed. Pilate. “Innocent!” Bedlam. “Barabbass!” Riot. Despair. Christ. Bare. Rings. Wall. Back. Whip! Slash. Scourge. Tear. Bone. Moan. Flesh. Rhythm. Silence. Whip! Silence! Whip! Thorns. Stinging. Blind. Laughter. Jeering. Scepter. Slap. Governor. Distraught. (Almost). Eyes. Jesus. Decision. Power. Freedom? Threats. Looks. Yelling. Weak. Basin. Water. Swayed. Compromise. Blood. Guilt.

Soldiers. Thieves. Crosspiece. Shoulder. Heavy. Beam. Heavy. Sun. Stagger. Incline. Houses. Shops. Faces. Mourners. Murmurs. Pilgrims. Women. Tumble. Cobblestone. Exhaustion. Gasping. Simon. Pathetic. Golgotha.

Skull. Calvary. Crosses. Execution. Death. Noon. Tears. Observers. Wails. Wine. Nude. Bruised. Swollen. Crossbeam. Sign. Ground. Nails. Pound. Pierced. Contorted. Thirst. Terrible. Grace. Writhing. Raised. Mounted. Hung. Suspended. Spasms. Heaving. Sarcasm. Sponge. Tears. Taunts. Forgiveness. Dice. Gambling. Darkness.

Absurdity.

Death. Life.

Pain. Peace.

Condemn. Promise.

Nowhere. Somewhere.

Him. Us.

“Father!” Robbers. Paradise. Wailing. Weeping. Stunned. “Mother.” Compassion. Darkness. “My God!” Afraid. Scapegoat. Wilderness. Vinegar. “Father”. Silence. Sigh. Death. Relief.

Earthquake. Cemetery. Tombs. Bodies. Mystery. Curtain. Spear. Blood. Water. Spices. Linen. Waiting. Despair. Stone. Mary. Running. Maybe. Peter. John. Belief. Enlightenment. Truth. Mankind. Alive. Alive. Alive!

For a moment there was a burst of light such as no man, nor angel, nor pen could ever describe. For one brief, glorious moment, the entire universe was enveloped in God.

Death was dissolving in the presence of glory.

In that same moment, Magdalene was moving toward the tomb, struggling to walk, as the earth continued to tremble. As she was thrown to the ground, she dropped her vases of precious ointments she had planned to embalm my body. They spilled to the ground and their oils sank into the troubled earth.

While I was still lost in the sleep of death, I suddenly felt! It was my hand that moved. Then my feet, with the wounds they bore. I had begun to move out of the deep tunnels of the netherworld.

My spirit began to glow.

Then came a cry, a shout of triumph, a shout so great that even the discerning ears of angels could not comprehend it origin. As the cry beamed its way across the worlds, it finally came to be understood.

“It is his voice,” they cried as one, “but the words, what are his words?”

I AM RISEN!

The curtain to the entrance of the Holy of Holies ripped open while splintering wood crashed upon the floor below.

Instantly the great and foreboding cloud that had gathered around Golgotha disappeared.

For the first time, the Passover was spent in chaos. Terrified priests attempted to find a way to cover the entrance into the Holy of Holies, yelling all the while, “Do not look upon the Holy of Holies!”

When told the door between man and the holiest place on earth was visible to ordinary people, Caiaphas tried to hide his panic.

At the same moment in heavenly places, the fierce cherubim with their ever circling swords of fire (which had guarded the door between the two realms since the fall) fled in terror because the door suddenly disappeared.

Not since Adam of earth and God of heaven walked in the Garden had there been commerce between these two worlds.

Angels, as terrified as the cherubim, fled that empty place where once had been the guarded door. Finally, when curiosity overcame them, the angels cautiously crept back to that place which had so long been sealed.

“I live before you existed,” I said to death as he squeezed me into his clutches. “Poor Death, there are things that took place before you existed of which you know nothing.”
“It matters not,” Death vaunted.
“It matters all,” I replied. In that final moment I commanded those who were present from the unseen realm:
“Step forth, World System. Come into my very being.
You, World, shall die with me!
Lucifer, principalities and powers, and all that you head, come into me.
Law, you have been fulfilled, now come into my bosom.
Adam’s race, all that was touched by the fall, and creation itself, come into me and is one with me!
Death, be my servant; put to death all that is now one with me.
Come religion! That strives to be good but is ever falling, come.
Death, take religion, the old man, and the self nature and make them your prey.
Die upon my Cross. Come all of you, die in me! You have now encountered the most destructive power in creation - my Cross!
Put me to Death, I command you. Death, look at me; I am become the Fall.
All that is created is crucified with me.
Oh, but there is one left!
Death, as you take the last breath from me, I have a surprise for you.
Death, you are now mine!” I cried out triumphantly.

The Jews, yes. The heathen, yes. But oh, must I drink the draught of the sin of the other realm?

No part of me could grasp the vastness of the incarnate evil which was forming before my eyes. It was not only my lot to behold the iniquities committed in the visible realm, but also those monstrous acts committed in realms unseen.

The cup trembled as the contents of the deeds of the fallen and accursed citizens of the unseen realm poured into the cup.

With unspeakable horror I watched the full corruption of the damned spirits, the foulness of the fallen angelic host, the perniciousness of the princes of perdition - all flowed into the vomitous brew.

“Oh, Father,” I cried out with unutterable pain, “if there is any way, please remove this cup from me!”

Then in horrendous resignation I cried out, “But… if not, …then…your…will…be…done.”

FATHER, PERMIT EVEN THIS.

I collapsed to the ground which had become a pool of my own blood. An angel fought hard to stay my death, even the death of a broken heart and emaciated body.

The cup spewed its vile venom until the stench of its contents seemed to fill the winds of the earth.

I watched as all the sins of all the sons of Abraham slipped into the cup. I saw their centuries of rebellion, idolatry, incest; murder, lies, and deceit make their way into the cup. The sins of the Hebrew race had now become one with that cup.

My hand and face began to pour forth blood until the ground around me soaked.

I wept again. I called out for deliverance and cried, “Abba! Father!”

My body began to shake uncontrollably. So also my weeping and my cries of terror.

Never had I or any man known the depths of repulsion as I knew it when I saw the wantonness and evil that poured into that cup,

I would have surely died, but the door to the other realm opened, allowing an angel to come and minister to me. The image of the cup faded, but I would return. This time to its images would be still more grotesque.

Struggling to my feet, I forced myself to return to my disciples. As I stood there, I marked the ground around me with my blood.

“You could not stay the night with me, could you?” I asked, as I returned to my place of prater.

FATHER, PERMIT EVEN THIS.

– Gene Edwards, The Day I Was Crucified