by Elizabeth | Apr 12, 2012 | Learning Story
“Woman why are you weeping?” She said to them, “they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” John 20:13
You know how when something wretched has happened, but then it turns out really amazingly wonderful? You know how you then retell the stories, saying, “and it looked so bad, we thought we are going to lose, everything was going wrong. But then…” In the week following Jesus’ resurrection, those closest to Jesus experienced such story reversals. Listen to what Dan Allender says about the importance of remembering sorrowful stories:
“Sorrow cannot steal our faith or even cause it to be lost; betrayal and loss steal our faith only when we refuse to remember, tell our stories, listen even as we tell them, and explore the meaning that God has woven into every one. If we want to grow in faith we must be open to listening to our own stories, perhaps familiar or forgotten, where we have not mined the rich deposit of God’s presence. With better eyes and ears we will sense how God has worked to redeem even our most tragic experiences.” Dan Allender, The Healing Path
For reflection: what stories have you reached into to mine the rich deposit of God’s presence? What did you discover?
by Elizabeth | Apr 11, 2012 | Learning Story
It is the Wednesday after Easter, and perhaps we find that the first pastel flush has faded, especially when we step on one of the brightly-colored plastic half-shells strewn through the house. A perfect day to be revived by the strong song of salvation that Scripture belts out:
Psalm 96
1 Sing to the LORD a new song;
sing to the LORD, all the earth.
2 Sing to the LORD, praise his name;
proclaim his salvation day after day.
3 Declare his glory among the nations,
his marvelous deeds among all peoples.
4 For great is the LORD and most worthy of praise;
he is to be feared above all gods.
5 For all the gods of the nations are idols,
but the LORD made the heavens.
6 Splendor and majesty are before him;
strength and glory are in his sanctuary.
7 Ascribe to the LORD, all you families of nations,
ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.
8 Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name;
bring an offering and come into his courts.
9 Worship the LORD in the splendor of his[a] holiness;
tremble before him, all the earth.
10 Say among the nations, “The LORD reigns.”
The world is firmly established, it cannot be moved;
he will judge the peoples with equity.
11 Let the heavens rejoice, let the earth be glad;
let the sea resound, and all that is in it.
12 Let the fields be jubilant, and everything in them;
let all the trees of the forest sing for joy.
13 Let all creation rejoice before the LORD, for he comes,
he comes to judge the earth.
He will judge the world in righteousness
and the peoples in his faithfulness.
by Elizabeth | Apr 5, 2012 | Learning Story
Today I invite you to meditate with me on that Thursday night long ago when Jesus struggled with the immense pain of preparing to be separated from the Father.
“Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” Read the whole passage in Matthew 26:36–46.
Michael Card, in his beautiful book, A Violent Grace, explains more:
“Gethsemane, the garden where Jesus’ awful drama played itself out, means ‘place of crushing.’ The name came from the olive press located there. You can imagine how an olive press works: beautiful, ripe olives go in; heavy stones apply irresistible pressure; and the precious oil flows out.. All that remains in the press is unrecognizable pulp.
For just such a crushing, Jesus has come to Gethsemane. Before the night is over, there will be a series of struggles, and in each one, he will be crushed. Two days later, the human form of the son of God will have been beaten and battered beyond recognition. But from his crushing, precious and abundant life will flow for you and me. Without the sorrows of Gethsemane, there will be no salvation at Golgotha.”
Let us join in praise of the king who was crushed that we might be saved!
by Elizabeth | Apr 4, 2012 | Learning Story
“Who do you say that I am.” Matthew 16:16
Every year during Holy Week I like to re-immerse myself in the unfolding drama of the final week of Jesus’s life. This year a question Jesus asks earlier keeps catching me, and I wonder, “Who would I have said that Christ was?” The poem I wrote on Monday (writing poetry is a rare happening for me) came from picturing myself as a Jewish woman, a bystander at the “Jesus entering Jerusalem” procession. What would I have done? I’d have felt excited to hear that this miracle worker, the famed teacher Jesus was coming to our town, just as today I would surely line up to see the renowned Billy Graham if he visited Pensacola. I would have pondered as I waited, “Could he be the Messiah who had been foretold in the stories of my ancestors?”
It occurred to me I might have been disappointed when I saw his face. Isaiah tells us he “had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” (Isaiah 53:2). I’ll bet Jesus didn’t look very much like James Caviezel, the handsome, tanned actor who played him in the Passion movie. Isaiah also tells us that Jesus was despised and rejected by men (Isaiah 53:3). I wondered if when I saw this homely-looking apparent-pretender-king looking so foolish riding on a donkey, I would have turned away, disgusted at myself for every dreaming he could be the Messiah.
Thankfully, God’s Redeemer doesn’t have to fit my narrow expectations, and my disappointment could never have limited his mighty saving power. The truth is, I, we, have turned away, looking to small saviors who satisfy our sin-shrunk imaginations. Jesus marched forward, undeterred by his despisers, determined to save us, the mockers. He kept moving until he fulfilled his Father’s mission, and in his dying love for us, he turned our hearts back and drew us to believe in the only One who could truly capture our hearts. I am grateful that no matter what I would have done that day, because of what he did that week, today I lift high the cross praising Jesus my Messiah and King.
by Elizabeth | Apr 2, 2012 | Learning Story
Get ready,
The King is coming.
Hold your branches high, so he’ll see you.
Did you hear about how he healed Haniel?
Bleeding she was for years,
With one quick brush against him, the flow ceased.
He noticed her but did not scorn her,
He pronounced her well. Clean now forever.
Away he sent her, in peace…
Get ready,
The King is coming.
Hold your branches high, so that he will see you.
Wait, what’s this? A donkey? Huh!
What kind of King
rides on such a thing,
a creature that looks like Balaam’s ass!
We thought this Jesus would save us, destroying the Roman oppressors.
This misshapen-faced man couldn’t save a dog;
why, look at his weak eyes!
Come on, let’s go,
Before he sees us.
And they tossed their branches aside,
turning away in disgust.
by Elizabeth | Mar 27, 2012 | Learning Story
all of creation cries out -- he is faithful
“I will sing of the steadfast love of the lord for ever.
With my mouth I will make known your faithfulness to all generations.” Psalm 89:1
As I begin the daily, even hourly plod toward shoulder health after this fifth shoulder surgery, I am trying out a dictation app that magically transforms spoken words into written ones. To familiarize myself with the app, I decided to read certain Psalms aloud. (This practice comes with the lovely side effect of soul-calm). I confess that when I began this process, I initially turned to Psalm 88, because it felt like the unyielding and somewhat angry content best suited my heart’s mood. However, when I opened my Bible, the Spirit steered me toward Psalm 89, a lament admitting slightly more hope than the Psalmist of 88 is ready to acknowledge.
Now for the really cool part…
This morning, as I read the first couple of verses of Psalm 89, I began to realize the sweet irony of the words my lips were forming:
“With my MOUTH I will make known your faithfulness to all generations.”
With the ongoing struggles, I’ve been fearful about the functional loss of shoulder, arm, hand and fingers to write out of my innards this fire within my bones. And now, partly through 21st century cyberscience, and completely because of the Lord’s unfailing faithfulness, the antidote to my fear has appeared onscreen.
The Word breaks down my poison-fear with its fundamental deconstructing truth: capacity to type words may diminish, and next week my voice could falter, but as Jesus once said, nothing can silence the insistent cosmological cry of praise (Luke 19:40). His love is unshakeable, his redemption irreversible, and his faithfulness immovable. Nothing new here – what the labor of my hands has never been able to accomplish, the zeal of the Lord has already done and continues to do until the day of Christ’s return (Isaiah 9:6). Shout it with me now,
“With my mouth I will make known your faithfulness to all generations.”
What about you? Do you struggle with fears of limitation or inability to carry out your calling? How do you hear God’s faithfulness shouting (or whispering) from – words or The Word; a rock or a rock-climber; trial or triumph?
(This post was composed over several hours time using the free app for old Ipad, Dagon Dictate, and lots of one-handed typing:-)
