Month: April 2017

“Meanwhile, all his disciples deserted him and ran away.”      Mark 14:50

“That evening, on the first day of the week, the disciples were meeting behind locked doors because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders.”      John 20:19

Blindsided. That’s how the disciples must have felt. They entered Jerusalem on Sunday to the roar of the crowd’s approval. By Friday all their expectations had been dashed, crushed under the weight of a cross. They had been in the shadow of greatness. Now they were just in the shadows.

We read the accounts of Jesus’ death and resurrection with the benefit of hindsight. How silly of the disciples to be hiding! Jesus told them what was going to happen. They should have known that He would rise from the dead. Never mind that it had never happened before. Never mind that their world had just been turned upside down and they were still struggling to figure out which way was up.

Our everyday lives happen without the benefit of hindsight. Then some circumstance blindsides us. Suddenly we find ourselves living between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Our response is to hide in fear because we easily forget the promises of God.

It is hindsight that lets us look back more than 2000 years to the Cross, where we see that God keeps His promises. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He will not change. He will continue to act towards us from His goodness, His mercy, His love. This encourages us and propels us forward into the future.

The Cross is the proof in the pudding, the eternal evidence that God gave that He loves us and will do anything to rescue us and restore our relationship with Him. It is at the Cross that God invites us to walk by faith and not by sight. The grave looked pretty final and death looked pretty victorious. But that wasn’t the end of the story. Faith looks ahead, keeps waiting to see what more God has to reveal, what God’s power can do with a hopeless situation.

What got the disciples out of the locked room? The good news that the tomb was empty. What’s the remedy that will draw us out of fear and hiding? The same good news that drew the disciples out. The tomb is empty.  Whatever painful, blindsiding, world-altering circumstance you face, it’s an empty threat.  It’s not the end of your story. There’s more to come.

Imagine you invite a friend out for dinner and offer to pay.  When the bill comes, to your great embarrassment, you find you don’t have enough to cover it.  Your friend laughs and throws in enough to make up the difference.

That’s not how it works with God.

It’s more like you find you left your wallet at home and you’ve got nothing.  Or whatever you brought to pay doesn’t matter because they don’t take the currency you’re carrying.  What you thought you had to your credit is worthless.

Some day, a lot of people are going to reach into their pockets expecting to have enough to cover their bill, only to find nothing more than lint.

I think a lot of us are fooled into believing that our sins aren’t that bad.  Or it’s hard for us to understand the depth, the seriousness, of our offenses.  When we think about sin, we usually think some sins are little and some are big.  A little sin isn’t so bad, right?  We’re convinced the good things we’ve done make up for the little white lies, the angry outbursts, the lustful desires.

That’s not how God sees it.  God is light; there isn’t any darkness in Him at all.  The Bible talks about this as God’s righteousness – His right-ness.  Righteousness, perfection, is like pure, creamy vanilla pudding.  This is how God intended for us to be.

Sin is the opposite of righteousness.  Our sin is like baby poop – it stinks.  If I put just a little poop into the pudding, you’re not going to want it.  The whole thing is ruined.  A lot or a little doesn’t really matter too much.  That’s how God sees it.  He says you’re either righteous, or you’re poop.

Maybe you’re well aware you’re a sinner.  You know the depth of your sin.  You were tempted, blinded to the fact that it was really poop, and you devoured it, feasted on it even.  Now you can’t imagine how God could possibly forgive someone who has done the things you’ve done.  How you could forgive yourself.  How you can get the taste of poop out of your mouth.

Too often we return to the one who deceived us in the first place looking for the path to redemption.  We ask directions from the one who led us off course to begin with.  Now he laughs and says, “The only way you can make up for this is to ____________.”  That’s just another lie.  No matter what Satan says you owe, you’re not obligated to him. 

The One we are accountable to is God.  Accountable: to give an account, an answer, an explanation, a reckoning.  What can we say to Him?  What explanation can we give?  How can we justify what we’ve done, what we’ve left undone?  Whatever account we give, it’s all poop in the pudding.

A better analogy is that you are homeless, filthy and hungry.  Enslaved.  A beggar.  Then Jesus comes and says, “Let me buy you dinner.”  He cleans you up.  Gives you fresh clothes.  Breaks your bondage.  Sets you free.  Takes you to the finest restaurant and serves you the most expensive thing on the menu.  Before you were humbled if someone gave you their leftover lunch.  Now you stagger under the way He lavishes goodness on you.

The truth is, when the bill comes, we are all empty-handed.  That’s so we can receive out of God’s limitless, always-going-to-be-more-than-enough storehouse.  We are rescued because God has given us a priceless gift, His own Son.  We don’t bring anything to the bargaining table.  Now when it’s time for the account to be settled, it’s covered.  There is no debt He can’t pay.  No sin He can’t cover.  No need He can’t meet.  There is nothing that He isn’t sufficient for.  He is more than enough.