I was standing on the lawn talking with people after our Sunday services. A young lady I’d never met stood off to the side with one of those, “I have to tell you something” looks every pastor knows.
When the crowd cleared, I walked over to her. “Thank you for being so patient. My name is Ed, how can I help you?”
Tears streamed down her face. “Could you pray for me, please?”
I would love to.
Mark’s account of the last day of Jesus of Nazareth’s earthly life stresses the irony of the Lord’s civil trial, crucifixion, and burial.
Not one small detail or one word was outside the sovereign power of our God.
Talk about bodacious!On the night He was betrayed, Jesus told Peter and the disciples that Zechariah 13:7 referred to them personally, and that it was going to happen shortly:
“All of you will be made to stumble because of Me this night, for it is written, ‘I will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I have been raised, I will go before you to Galilee” (Mark 14:27-28).
You’d think that should settle it, especially for Peter. The One he properly identified as “the Christ, the Son of the Living God” told them that God’s Word would be fulfilled in their lives. He even offered an assuring promise of His coming resurrection and their soon regathering after the crisis.
But not for Peter. No, Peter had something for Jesus. He would prove to Him that Peter, not God was in control of this night. Peter, not God, would determine if Messiah should die. Peter, not God, would decide who would scatter and who wouldn’t.
“Hold on there Jesus, that’s not going to happen. Not on my watch. I will never forsake you. These other weaklings might fold, but not me. I’m Peter, and I don’t need God!”
My beloved mentor and pastor from our Jesus Movement days, Ted Stone, is on his way to heaven. A deadly brain tumor diminishes him a little more each day. Sometimes he has the energy to talk on the phone when I call. I cherish his sentences. He pauses, gathers his strength, and says, “Eddie, I want to tell you something. I may never get the opportunity to say this to you….”
I hold my breath and wait for Ted to speak. It’s an awesome and holy moment as this man who loves me, and in so many ways has given his life for me, and others in the body of Christ, begins. I know I’ll remember every word until the day Jesus greets me in heaven with Ted at His side.
This was the atmosphere in the upper room. These were Jesus’ final words to His disciples. In just a few minutes dark and ominous events would leave them alone and afraid. Tomorrow at this time He would be dead, crucified by Rome and laid in a rich man’s tomb.
And what did He say to them? Remember Me!
After I finished my book, When God Breaks Your Heart, detailing my journey of faith living with a deadly disease, I thought I had said it all.
I’m discovering that there are days I just have to tell you one more thing. Today is one of those days.
It was April in 2000 when I wrote this desperate prayer and accompanying plea from Scripture in my journal:
Father, please give me ministry in my grandchildren’s lives. “Let Your work appear to Your servants, and Your glory to their children” (Psalm 90:16).
If you knew me back then or you’ve read the book, you know how bold that request was. I had nearly died in March and had not improved much since. The doctors were suspecting lymphoma, and following test after test, what they called my “numbers” refused to turn around.
I remember the day I wrote those sentences in my blood-stained journal vividly. Tears flowed as I begged God to let me have some influence in my grandchildren’s lives. Back then I was only thinking of two–Jackson and Megan.
I’m writing these words from my son’s home in Atlanta, where we just greeted Amelia Joy,who joins Jackson, Megan, Camryn, Mary, and Wyatt. Grandchild number 7–Zachary James–is now 10 months old.
I’m thinking of Saturday, the 10th of January 2009, when I spent the day with Amelia’s older sister and brother, Mary and Wyatt. I watched Mary’s skating lessons and Wyatt’s hockey practice. I was vaguely aware of some other children on the ice, but my heart glued my attention to one little twirling princess and one little bruiser in pads.
On the way home, Wyatt put his little arms around my neck and shouted, “We’re best pals!”
The Spirit reminded me one more time of the power of prayer and the comfort of being loved by a God who is perfectly reliable and strong.
I don’t know what’s breaking your heart today, but I suspect something is.
God knows, and He loves it when you ask Him for big things. You never know, He might just say yes.
Just like He did for me.
Thank you, Father, for hearing my desperate prayer. And for that almost-nine-years-later reminder from a blue-eyed little hockey star that You, not my doctors, number my days.
When you read those words, Extravagant Worship, what pictures come to mind?
Depending on your personal tastes in music and cultural background, you’re probably thinking about people who worship Christ “over the top” according to your evaluation, or the evaluation of your tradition.
That’s an immediate indicator that you have misunderstood the New Testament’s teaching on worship.
Worship isn’t about styles and traditions. “Good” worship isn’t the music you’re use to or whether or not people lift their hands, use icons and candles, or sit quietly listening to Gregorian chants.
The worship book of the New Testament is Romans, and the worship passage is Romans 12:1-2. After his eleven-chapter presentation of the mercies of God available to us in Christ, Paul says this:
Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. 2Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.
Next Sunday I begin teaching Mark 13 at Church of the Open Door. Mark 13 condenses Jesus’ Olivet Discourse—His answer to two questions every follower of Christ asks when we read about end-time events:
When will these things be?
What will be the sign when these things are fulfilled?
I’m persuaded it’s important to teach Mark 13 because I believe prophecy is important to Christians. But not for the reasons a lot of people think of when you mention biblical prophecy.
It’s an intriguing truth that the general events of prophecy are pretty easy to establish if you believe that every word of the Bible is inspired by God and true. The details, however, are extremely difficult to interpret.
Ever wonder why?
Could it be that the Lord doesn’t really want us to worry and argue over the details?
What Tempts You?What would you consider the most serious and debilitating temptation to a true Christian?
Sexual sin?
Lying?
Spiritual laziness?
How about none of the above?
The most serious temptation that derails Christians is the temptation to return to the law once they’ve received new life by trusting in Jesus. It’s a “Now that Jesus saved me, I better get to work to clean up my life and make Him proud of me!” temptation. And the so-called Christian culture cheers them on, “That’s right. Get to work for Jesus you sorry-little-sinner. That’s what we’re doing!”
Sitting at my feet is a 25-pound companion who never thinks of herself. She was made by God to assist men and women in the acquisition of food, specifically cuisine that takes wing. Her ancestors flushed the partridges and pheasants of a field so that the hawks and falcons of the landed gentry could strike them from the air. When they fell to the ground dazed and confused, these little wonders with God-given ability to smell beyond the wildest imaginations of mere humans would dutifully scoop up the prey into soft mouths. Never thinking of these delicacies for personal consumption, they happily bounced back to the gamekeeper to deposit the prized fowl seeking only a pat on the head and the “good girl” or “good boy” they live for.
My current edition of the descendants of these companions of nobles and kings is a black and white English lady named Annie. Packed into her little frame is a big-dog heart ready to scour field or pond for the wonder of a bird or duck with an enthusiasm and reckless abandon that never quits, never doubts, and risks life and limb to find, flush, and fetch the feathered prize for the true object of her unbounded devotion and love…me.
Ever had one of those days that you suddenly lost control of?
If your days are like Judy’s, and mine, it doesn’t take much to send them into a tailspin. Like you, we get up every morning with a lot more on our schedule than we could possibly accomplish—even if everything went just right, just as we planned it. Our days are so packed there isn’t much margin for error. And then…
