Patterns

⁴ "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one.^{[a] 5} Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ⁶ These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. ⁷ Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ⁸ Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. ⁹ Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." 


God stands before with us today. And God asks to have an impact on our lives. An impact that can shake the world. An impact of love. And not just the love that lasts a short time.

Love.

Love that shapes who we are. Love that shapes who we will become. Love that shapes us. Forever.


Tomorrow we will go to church. Tomorrow we will continue in a pattern that shapes our living. The pattern of rushing to get the door on time. The pattern of singing the songs but not listening to the words we are singing. The pattern of reading announcements during the sermon. The pattern of doing, but not living.

God asks to have an impact on our lives. An impact so that we want to worship him every day of our lives. An impact so that our love for him will be evident in everything we do.

And for so many of us, we reserve our time with God, our time to tell him how much we love him to Sunday.

And yet, for so many of us, Sunday can easily become a pattern, much like that second cup of coffee or the perusing of the front page news.

If we are to love God with all our heart, with all our strength, and with all our mind, this means giving him our best on Sunday. Singing, listening, communing with God, for that hour once a week.

And.

It means continuing that hour for the whole week. Communing with God outside of worship. Singing, listening, reading, praying with God. Shaping our lives around God and our love for God.

And so, as we worship tomorrow, allow the grace of that hour to fill you. Allow God to work within you that one hour. And pray, that that grace and that love, that praise and that prayer can continue not just to the narthex or the parking lot, but to your home, your gym, your office place and your school.

Allow a love for God and fellowship with God fill you. And have an impact on you. God wants to shape you. God wants to live within you. And God wants you to love him. And it starts with patterns.

Love that Rides Trains

⁴ "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one.^{[a] 5} Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. ⁶ These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. ⁷ Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ⁸ Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. ⁹ Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." 

From the beginning of time, God has showed us love. 

Love showed itself in the deliberate acts at creation.

Love showed itself in the plan known, before time began.

Love showed itself in the unfolding of time.

From the beginning of time, God has showed us love.

Yet. 

We fell into sin. We denied that someone could love us like God could love us. 

And so, throughout scripture, God tries to break in. God tries to tell us. And God tries to tell us how to love him back. 

In this season of Easter, we remember the love that ultimately broke in. And it is this love that we need to bind on our hearts. We need to write this love on our doorposts. We need to talk about it and ultimately, we need to live this love out. We need to love as God loved us.

But how do we tie this love on our hands? How do we write it on our foreheads?

My grandpa tells a story every year on their wedding anniversary. It is a story that I will never forget. As a World War 2 veteran, he doesn't tell too many stories from his time in Europe. This story isn't one of battles. It is one of selfless love.

While serving in Europe, he was granted a time of leave. And so he decided to travel to the Netherlands to see his grandparents, who he had met only once before, at age 6. 

But this was no ordinary train ride. At one stop a young woman got on the train and sat down next to my grandpa. When a soldier came around to check identification, she did not have any--and in this case, my grandpa inferred that she was most likely Jewish. 

And while many might have fled from being associated with a Jew while traveling in Nazi occupied territory, my grandpa said confidently to the questioning officer, "She's my wife." And from that point on, my grandpa has called this lady, whose name my grandpa never learned, as his first wife. 

What my grandpa did that day was lie to the soldier on that train. And in doing so, he saved this stranger's life that day. Without saying anything, he showed everyone what it meant to live out of God's love, even if that meant that he would lose his life. 

This story is one of a handful my grandpa can tell from those years. And it is a story that should live. 

Without thinking about it, my grandpa talked about God's love as he rode the train that day. 

From the beginning of time, God showed his love.

And he calls us to love in return. 

Love that permeates every ounce of our being.  

Love that defines who we are. 

Love that shows in the most miraculous places.

Earthquake

We live in and among a world of chaos. A world that is defined by a rat-race. A world that is defined by what it has become...

      ...instead of who created it.
      ...instead of who defined it.
      ...instead of who the One who came to distill peace into our our chaos.

Yet, as reformed people, we know that we are called to live in this world and to bring Christ's peace into the chaos, into the rat-race. We are told to be part of restoring the world into what God intended when he said, "It is Good!"

We sit, one week after Easter...
      ...after the tomb broken.
      ...after love won.
      ...after the world was shaken to its very core.

Yet.

We remember...
      ...the pounds we put on by the Easter candy.
      ...the chaos of Easter egg hunts.
      ...the record breaking church attendance.

What should we remember? What should make a lasting impression?

 On Easter morning, many of us read the familiar story and skipped over a small phrase that jolted me tonight...

"After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for the angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it." (Matthew 28:1-2)

Did you catch that? There was a violent earthquake. Again.

When Jesus died, Matthew tells us that "The earth shook and rocks split". It was on Sunday morning that the earth spoke up again, and there was an earthquake.

An earthquake.

You see, what happened that morning was something out of the ordinary. Jesus rose. And he didn't rise just for the people that day.

He rose to cause lasting damage... the rocks that shook and split on Friday were just a warning for the catastrophic love that would reign come Sunday. For then, there would be an earthquake. 

An earthquake.

The love of Christ was shouted by Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, by the disciples on the road to Emmaus, and by the rest of the friends of Jesus.

Yet, the first one to announce this miracle was the earth.


And it didn't just whisper.

It caused an earthquake.

In the chaos of this world. In the chaos of this season. In our busy lives.
      ...we often forget.
      ...we often make excuses


Yet. It begs to be remembered. It begs to be talked about. It begs to make front page news, right along side the other natural disasters.

Christ's resurrection begs to form our lives, changing them from someplace that we simply have buried our Lord, to someplace where Christ's resurrection has turned every stone.

And so friends, how long can we ignore the earthquake?

It is in this season that we are called to remember that earthquake and live out of the rubble.

     Live lives shaped by the love...

           ...Love that overturns every stone and leaves nothing untouched.

Christ has risen! He is risen, indeed!

From the Beginning...

For some reason, John 1 has really stuck with me this Lent and Easter season. From the beginning God had a plan--and so in John 1 we hear language reminiscent of Genesis 1. And this plan came in full when the Word became flesh. When the light shone in the deep darkness. And when the world did not recognize it.

But for those of us who recognize the light, we are children of God. We are welcomed into his family. We receive the benefits of the plan. The large plan that stood in place from the beginning.This is the amazing grace of the Bible--everything works together in order to give us spectacles in which to see God--to recognize God. And, ultimately, to live out of this glorious grace.

 ¹ In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was with God in the beginning.

 ³ Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. ⁴ In him was life, and that life was the light of men. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood^[a] it.

 ⁶ There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. ⁷ He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. ⁸ He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. ⁹ The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.^[b]

 ¹⁰ He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. ¹¹ He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. ¹² Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— ¹³ children born not of natural descent,^[c] nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

 ¹⁴ The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only,^[d] who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

 ¹⁵ John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.’” ¹⁶ From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. ¹⁷ For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. ¹⁸ No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only,^[e][f] who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.

Love has won!

Love has won! Love has endured hell at the hands of sinners. And love has won!

Love has claimed the victory, not just for today, but for every day.

"Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia! Fought the fight, the battle won; Alleluia! Death in vain forbids him rise; Alleluia! Christ has opened paradise. Alleluia!" 

Love became human. Love became divine. And love did the unbelievable. 

This unbelievable became believable today.

For in the crispness of dawn, Christ rose. Christ rose to live for you and for me. Christ rose to conquer the ultimate battle. Christ rose to open paradise. 

In the crispness of dawn, love won. Love conquered death. Forever.

       Yet.

The battle is not over completely.

And the unbelievable still begs to be believed. 

       Everyday.

Love truly has won. Love truly has conquered. Christ lives!

      It is this message that must frame our life.
      It is this message that must be believed.

Love truly has won. Love truly has conquered. Christ lives. Hallelujah!

Silent Saturday

Today is a silent day.

Saturday was the Jewish Sabbath. And on this Jewish Sabbath the world, stood still.
                   
                And silent.

The world waited.

                In shock.

And we too find ourselves waiting... dwelling in the memory of yesterday.

"He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth." 
Isaiah 53:7

And it is in this shock that we find tears.

                  Tears.

We remember the darkness of noon, the earthquake and the tearing of the curtain.

And we remember the words that hung eerily in the air... "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit."

We remember in silence because no words can say what we are feeling. No words can express our sorrow. No words can be said to undo yesterday, to undo the lamb of God taking on the sin of the world... for even his father could not take that from him. 

And so today, on this silent Saturday we remember the message of Friday.

                    And we wait for the message the crisp dawn air will surely bring... 

A Good Day

We call this a good day.

Today is the day that we take special time to remember the reason for that baby in swaddling clothes.

That baby came for me.

For me he came and died. For me he came and suffered, dying the worst kind of death.

Yet. We call this a good day. 

But on that day, nothing was good.
      On that day...
           ...people put Jesus up for an unfair trial
           ...people "hurled insults" at Jesus
           ...people cast lots for Jesus' clothes
           ...people put nails into Jesus' flesh, in the most painful spots
           ...people stood by. And watched. 
           ...people killed Jesus. And it was the worst possible death.

Yet. We call this a good day.

But on that day, even the earth knew nothing good.
      On that day...
           ...the earth shook
           ...darkness covered the land
           ...the curtain in the temple ripped in half

Yet. We call this a good day.

For Jesus, it was the worst day. But it was the best day. For he got to do what he had come to do. But in order to do that, he had to suffer and die.

And so, Jesus endured the worst of days to create the best of days... and it is this juxtaposition that makes this day, for us, a good day!
     
And so my friends, live in the juxtaposition. Dwell in it. Dwell in the worst of days.

And when you've dwelt in the darkness of the worst of days long enough that you cannot dwell there any longer, dwell some more...

And then... dwell in the good part of the day. Dwell in the reason for the day. Dwell in the hope that we have, knowing what Sunday will bring. And it is in this hope that makes today a good day. 

Strange Words. Maybe.

Passover was a celebration of tradition. Traditions that had continued for generations. Jesus, a Jew, continued these traditions. Yet, the words that he said at this last meal were not the regular words.  He talked about the new covenant. He equated the bread to his body and the wine to his blood.  These were strange words.

"While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, 'Take and eat; this is my body.' Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them saying, 'Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father's kingdom.'"

I have to wonder, just how strange they were to those friends that day. In Luke's gospel, we hear of disputes over Jesus' words... yet, Matthew and Mark, the disciples sing a hymn.

They sang a hymn. And responded to these strange words.

They responded to something that caused arguments. And they set an example for us. They tell us to respond--when we understand things and when we don't understand things. God calls us to respond.

Today is Maundy Thursday. Today is the day that starts the weekend of celebration, the weekend of remembering and responding.

At that Last Supper, Jesus and his disciples remembered the Passover in Egypt and they responded. 

These were strange words.

And today. Today, we celebrate these strange words.

A Different Plan

It was on Wednesday that, as the gospel of Matthew says, "they plotted to arrest Jesus in some sly way and kill him."

I was struck on this reading that they planned this in just two short days.

Two days.

In two days, a few humans planned and executed the plot that would change the world... FOREVER.

Yet, this plan was in the works long before Wednesday. God had a plan, from the beginning. And the sly way that the high priests tried wasn't so sly at all.

Jesus knew the plan.

He was in the world, and through the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.

He came to that which was not his own, but his own did not receive him. Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God--children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.

But the world didn't realize the purpose of the plan. And sometimes we still don't know the plan. Yet, the world is more than ready to make a different plan--"a sly plan".

However, despite this "sly plan", the grand plan that started back in the beginning won over in the end.

And this too was part of God's not-so-sly plan. 

Listen.

"What language shall I borrow to thank you, dearest Friend,

for this, your dying sorrow, your mercy without end?
Lord, make me yours forever, a loyal servant true, 

and let me never, never outlive my love for you."

It was on Tuesday that Jesus' authority was questioned. And, it was on Tuesday that Jesus spoke up for himself.

In the midst of this week, we find ourselves so distracted from the events of this day, so many years ago. Yet, we are intimately connected...

We question Jesus' authority every day.

In small ways...
     and big ways...
without thinking about it...
    without stopping to listen

to the persistent voice of Jesus.

We do our own thing
    walk away from his will
go days without praying
    or reading his word...

On Friday we will claim Jesus as our own.

We will claim that the sacrifice

We will claim the authority derived from the sacrifice

We will claim the fully human and fully divine act on the cross... we will claim it as ours.


Yet.

our lives will remain driven by our own voice, instead of the voice of the cross... the voice of the sacrifice.  our lives will be run on our authority.


And so, as we approach the darkest hour, knowing what comes beyond the darkness, can we challenge ourselves to take an extra minute--an extra ten minutes--and listen?

Listen.

To the voice of Jesus from the cross... for that voice is supposed to drive our lives. That voice is supposed to frame our every movement.

That voice is supposed to claim authority.

On Tuesday, Jesus stood up for his authority. And he stands up for it today. He speaks to us in many different ways.

We just need to listen.

Disruptions

Life is full of disruptions. No matter how hard we fight, we cannot prevent disruptions.


Disruptions to our exercise habits.

To our eating habits.

To our sleeping and socializing habits.

To our every movement.

Disruptions. 

Today is Holy Monday... the day that the tables were turned. One of the stories that we read in the gospels tells us the vivid narrative of Jesus entering the tables and turning the tables over... we can read the story and leave it as a story... or we can step back...

and disrupt our routine.

For, when we step back, we see that the tables being turned over tells us that disruption is coming... disruption to the life of the Jews.

Disruption to the routine of the whole world.

For in just a few days, Jesus will not only have turned over the sin that was happening in the temple courts. He will have turned over the sin that happens in the temple of our lives--the entire creation.

His death will be signaled with the tearing of the curtain in the temple.

With the blackening of the sky.

With the disruption of the day... for not just the lives of those living that day.

No.

The disruption lasts, to this day.

But here is the catch. Like every good disruption. It can be ignored. We can ignore the fact that we haven't gotten enough food. Or we've slept in by accident. We can move on. And we could try and do the same with the disruption of Friday.

But just like any good disruption, this one begs to NOT be ignored. This one begs to make an impact.

Will Friday, and the events of Friday disrupt your life?

Will the events of Friday disrupt and then, when they've just about disrupted your life more than you think possible... disrupt your life and form you into a human being that is shaped by the grace of Good Friday?

Life is full of disruptions. Will Friday's make a lasting impact on you?

The Gritty Juxtaposition of Holy Week

We all spend our lives in-between the here and now, the past and present.

Holy Week.

The hinge of all in-between, juxtapositions.

Today is Palm Sunday. Today we re-enact the drama of the day when Psalm's words came true...

⁷ Lift up your heads, O you gates;
   be lifted up, you ancient doors,
   that the King of glory may come in.
⁸ Who is this King of glory?
   The LORD strong and mighty,
   the LORD mighty in battle.
⁹ Lift up your heads, O you gates;
   lift them up, you ancient doors,
   that the King of glory may come in.
¹⁰ Who is he, this King of glory?
   The LORD Almighty—
   he is the King of glory.

Today. We remember the sounds of children. We remember the symbol of glory, the symbol of majesty that this day became.

And today. We stand on the hinge of grittiness. Today. We stand between. We know what the week will bring. Yet, we can shout "Hosanna in the Highest" today, for today, our king has come. For today, we know that despite being between the here and now, we are always and forever cradled in the hands that created the gritty juxtaposition. And that, my friends, is amazing grace.