What’s Your Name Again? April 23, 2007
Posted by Matt in Uncategorized.Tags: grocery shopping, memory
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Originally posted 4/23/07
This evening I was ambling along the aisles of our local market, pushing that wheeled contraption of metal and plastic with spinning, squeaky wheels that invariably pull to the right from years of abuse, which contained a small mountain of foodstuffs piled high and most likely glutted with enough semi-toxic chemicals to decimate an entire tribe of indigenous people with weaker immune systems than our own. Let’s face it, grocery shopping just isn’t a very enjoyable experiece – you spend what seems like an eternity poring over labels with cryptic measurements that nobody actually uses and over price tags looking for the best deal without completely sacrificing the health and well-being of your children, before stumbling to the one operative register, where the column of people stretches farther than the eye can see and you can’t help but think this must be like the line to see God on judgement day when your last name begins with a W.
But, I digress, on this fine evening in northern Mississippi I was sauntering down the aisle when a female voice called out, “Hi, Matt.” So, I turn around and poised in front of me is an attractive young woman, with blonde hair and glasses, who for some odd reason looks vaguely familiar. She goes on to ask about D and the girls and so on and so forth, but the whole time I’m racking every neuron that is still somewhat functional, quickly turning the pages of the discombobulated book of names and faces in my head, trying to figure out who this is and how she knows my family. By the time I bid her farewell, I had reached the conclusion that we must have gone to the same church at some point prior, but her name was still just out of reach.
Do any of you also have problems with names? I know most of my predicament stems from suffering a massive cerebral injury several years ago, but, even though I know the source of my memory struggles, it doesn’t make it any easier. I’ve been know to meet someone and promptly disremember the principle distinction used to tell one human being from another within the hour, if not sooner. It’s frustrating, but I’ve mastered the art of smiling and nodding and looking at least somewhat cognizant of what is going on around me.
So, if I ever stop to chat with you, but look a bit confused (at least more than normal) and never call you by your name, please don’t take it personally. Just mention your name in an unassuming manner so that I don’t have to risk the embarassment of not knowing some long-lost friend or family member.
Thank you for your cooperation.
He Lives April 8, 2007
Posted by Matt in Uncategorized.Tags: easter, Jesus, resurrection
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Originally posted 4/8/07
“Up from the grave He arose;
With a mighty triumph o’er His foes;
He arose a victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever, with His saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!
From “Low in the Grave He Lay”
By Robert Lowry, 1826-1899
Eventually the crowd gathered about Jesus’ body dispersed and He was laid in the tomb of a councilman named Joseph of Arimathea, who personally requested Pilate for the honor. So the slowly decomposing shell that once held the life-force of the Son of God was placed deep in a cave and the stone was rolled in front of the opening, blocking anyone but the strongest men from gaining entrance into the crypt. Guards were then placed in front of the tomb to block any of His disciples from breaking in and stealing the Lord’s body.
Upon the third day after the crucifixion, two women – Mary and Mary Magdalene – journeyed to the burial place in order to gaze upon the “final” resting spot of the Man they loved and called Lord, but the sight they beheld must have shook them to the core of their very being. An earthquake had occurred, followed by an angel who jostled the stone out of place and left the guards in a stupefied state of shock. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that the tomb was empty – Jesus was nowhere to be seen!
Then the women came into contact with the angel, a celestial being clothed in white with the “appearance of lightning,” who subsequently showered the grieving women with the greatest of declarations,
“Do not be afraid; for I know that you are looking for Jesus who has been crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said.”
Beset with feelings of the greatest joy, the women turned to rush to the disciples with the good news, when they were greeted by none other than Jesus Himself. The believing women fell at His feet worshipping and praising Him with all of their hearts. I can see Jesus pausing a moment and, in an act of perfect benevolence, bending down to touch the two women, showing His pure and unconditional love. Then He sent them to spread the wonderful message to His disciples.
And that is the good news of Easter Sunday. It’s not about bunnies or colorful eggs or tooth-rotting candy. Its about how not even the seemingly unavoidable force of death and decay could imprison the Son of God. He broke the bonds and, in doing so, set the world free. His teachings are wise, His council was great, His miracles were wonderful, but we follow His lead because of this great show of power – even over death itself.
The Cross April 6, 2007
Posted by Matt in Uncategorized.Tags: crucifixion, Jesus
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Originally posted 4/6/07
“O sacred Head, now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded
With thorns, thine only crown;
How pale thou are with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish
Which once was bright as morn!
-from “O, Sacred Head”
By Bernard of Clairvaux, 1153
Amid Christ’s cries of lonely anguish, the enraged mob bore Him along, mocking and beating and blaspheming Him, all the way to a mockery of a trial. Before the Sanhedrin and Pilate and Herod His accusers continually called for Jesus’ execution as a common criminal. Not wishing to inflame the fires of rebellion within the ruffians, the officials acquiesced to their demands – condemning the Son of God to death.
Along the way, His captors inflicted terrible physical punishments and humiliations upon Him – placing a blindfold over His eyes, beating Him, and with devilish laughs commanding Him to tell who the abuser was. Dressing Him in a scarlet robe and a crown of thorns that lacerated his scalp, then mockingly and disgracefully bowing down to Him as a supposed king, they spit on Him in vehement hatred
The terrible, torturous scourging mutilated His flesh, leaving little but a bloody, heaving mass of muscle tissue upon His back and sapping what little strength that remained in His broken body.
Then this bent and broken Man, covered gaping wounds and mucous and with rivers of blood streaming down His face was given the tool of His execution, the cross, and told to carry it. The massive loss of blood proved to be too much, though, and Christ fell – unable to bear the burden any longer – and a spectator, Simon of Cyrene, was pressed into service to hoist the weight and bear the weight in His place.
Upon reaching the location christened The Skull, the Son of God was laid down upon the ragged wooden beams with arms stretched taut and tense, waiting for the unbearable pain to come. I can’t begin to know what thoughts raced through His head, in a haze of pain, when he saw the man approach holding those long spikes and a hammer. The man then placed the pointed end of one spike upon the wrist of Jesus, perhaps pressing it in slightly and drawing a bit of blood to mark his target.
Then, rearing the hammer back, the man swung with the full force of his human muscles – driving the stake through the skin. Then blow after blow, pounding the spike through tissue and nerves and ligaments, leaving a hot ball of burning flame at the end of Christ’s arm. His tormented shrieks drowned out by the taunting crowd and the pendulum swing of the hammer.
Then the physical manifestation of God, the God of Israel who led His people out of bondage and into the Promised Land, was raised before the descendants of those who witnessed the parting of the Red Sea, who witnessed the annihilation of enemy nations in the name of Yahweh, and they mocked Him and cursed Him and turned their backs on Him.
Then perhaps some of the most important words in the entire Word of God were spoken – Christ looked at them, with tears of pain and betrayal mixing with His lifeblood, and said, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”
Darkness enveloped the earth. Jesus spoke His final words, “It is finished,” and amid the awed silence, the only sound echoing through the cosmos was the heartbroken cry of God.
Betrayal in the Garden April 5, 2007
Posted by Matt in Uncategorized.Tags: betrayal, garden of gethsemane, Jesus
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Originally Posted 4/5/07
The Life of Jesus Series:
His Birth
His Baptism
His Temptations
The Sermon on the Mount
Choosing His Disciples
His Healing Miracles
His Dealings with the Pharisees
His Humanity
The Good Samaritan
When Bad Things Happen
Peter’s Confession
The Transfiguration
The Lord’s Supper
’Tis midnight, and on Olive’s brow
The star is dimmed that lately shown;
‘Tis midnight, in the garden now
The suffering Savior prays alone”
-from “’Tis Midnight, and on Olive’s Brow”
by William B. Bradbury, 1853
Scripture: Matt 26:36-56
Following their Passover feast, Jesus and three of His disciples, Peter, James and John, drew away from the others into a peaceful garden, a noiseless atmosphere perfect for quiet contemplation on coming events. Christ realized what the future held for Him and I can only imagine the fear and agony galloping through his mind like a runaway stallion – how would you feel if granted the discernment of your pending, gruesome death by public execution?
So Jesus left His three companions and waded into the dark garden alone, gliding silently through the stillness of the night before falling to the ground on His face in agony – torn between His celestial pursuit and His looming appointment with death. The Son of God, with tears streaming down His face, begged and pleaded with the God of the universe to please “let this cup pass from Me.”
After composing Himself a bit, Christ then walked back to the disciples, found them deep in the throes of sleep, and trudged back into the garden, alone and full of sorrow. This time, though, the prayer was of a more resigned nature, “If this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Thy will be done.”
How troublesome that must be to stare death in the face, turn to your God and say, “Your will be done!” Or to look into the eyes of a loved one who is slowly passing from our world and, instead of lashing out in anger, to give the situation into the hands of the Almighty God.
Sad and alone, but resolute in His fate, Christ returned to the disciples once again, waking them and announcing that the time was upon them. At that moment Judas Iscariot, one of the 12 beloved apostles of Jesus, sauntered into the clearing right up to Jesus and, with a call of “Hail, Rabbi!” planted a kiss upon the Son of God. Jesus then looked His former confidant in the eyes, with a look of betrayed anguish upon His face, and in a quiet, quivering voice said, “Friend, do what you have come for.”
When the arresting soldiers appeared, Peter impetuously charged to the front, sword drawn, and, in a show of violent resistance, proceeded to attack the nearest man – a servant of the high priest. Even though He knew the terrible fate awaiting Him, Jesus stopped His great friend and companion Peter, healed the wounded man, and went along with His captors though it meant certain death.
Then we read that the disciples scattered in fear, leaving the Messiah alone in the dark once again.
How often do those of us in the Christian world face circumstances like these? We are quick to stand up for ourselves and lash out against supposed injustices, but, when we are confronted with the true character of Jesus – that of humbleness and peace – we, like the disciples, disappear into the darkness.
