Last Days Lessons

Last night while working on lessons plans, I watched an episode of the obviously unrealistic but always hilarious World War 2 satire Hogan’s Heroes.  In a “close to closing” scene, the bold Colonel Hogan asked the bumbling Sergeant Schulz, “If you knew for sure that a bomb would soon blow up this building we’re trapped in, would you want to know exactly when?” 

 

Schulz was too shaken to give a sure answer, but sometimes we think we might like to know how long we have left.  Let’s just say we did.  Would we live today differently than yesterday?  The answer ought to be “not at all,” for we should each moment “making the most of every opportunity”(Col 4:5) and “doing all we do to the glory of God”(1 Cor 10:31), but rare is the soul who would make no adjustment in action or attitude if this was his last day on earth.  Even Jesus, who needed to change nothing in word or deed, seemed to have a heightened sense of urgency as His time on this planet rushed toward its end.

Since Jesus knew His days were few, what did He do?  He spoke truth to all He met.  It’s during Holy Week that we find Him pronouncing seven woes for sinners, announcing sure signs of the end times, reaffirming the resurrection, and proclaiming the two greatest commandments.  Jesus also spent time with those He loved.  They sat with Him in the temple, walked with Him around the town, and reclined with Him during dinner—especially at the special meal of the Passover. Their time together was intimate and individual as Jesus avowed His devotion (Greater love has no man than this”Jn 15:1 ), stated His desires (“Abide in me”Jn 15:4), offered His comfort (“Let not your hearts be troubled”Jn 14:6), and humbly washed their filthy feet(“He poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples feet”Jn 13:5).  And through it all Jesus made sure to talk much to His Father—in the middle of His busy days (Jn 12:28) and in the deep of His darkest night(Jn 17:1).  As the shadow of the cross grew shorter and shorter, Jesus lived each hour with passion and purpose as one who knew who He was, whose He was, and why He was.

In case you were wondering, Hogan and Schulz managed to escape an untimely end and lived to see another day.  If God chooses to give you tomorrow, spend its moments wisely and well. Speak truth to all you meet.  Spend time with those you love.  And talk much with your Heavenly Father.

Sounds like a good way not just to spend our last days, but our every days.

Not Quite Ready

“Having loved his own were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love.” John 13:1 

Holy Week is here, but I’m hardly ready.  Thankfully, the discipline of giving up something for Lent has kept Christ’s sacrifice often on my mind during the past few days, but I could have done so much more.  I could have studied the story in all four Gospels.  I could have reviewed the many Old Testament prophecies.  I could have perused the writings of countless saints, or, at the very least, I could have reread my own Easter devotional book.  But this year I did none of these.

Being busy is no excuse.  Most of us have crammed calendars and pressing responsibilities, and even those with blank slots on their agendas still sport a long “to do” list.  For some reason, or no reason, I just didn’t prime my heart specifically for this special celebration. But today, God’s kindness overwhelmed me once again as my “straight through the Bible” reading landed me in John 13—the passage which follows Palm Sunday’s triumphal entry.  Had I been planning, that’s exactly where I would have turned.  How comforting to know that though we slip, God never stumbles, and He’s already in the future working His sovereign ways even through our many mess-ups.   

So if you’re heading into this marvelous Monday not as primed for Easter as you wish you were, let the failure itself find you more grateful than ever for God’s amazing grace.  And if today you are fully prepared to ponder and praise, then pray for those of us who are taking the crash course in “resurrection readiness.”  For all of us, the more we realize our utter ineptness and our absolute dependence on God’s relentless mercy the better off we are and the bigger our celebration will be.

During this Holy Week, as you reflect on the deliberate steps of our Savior toward the old, rugged cross and out of the stone-cold tomb, consider every move He made and listen to every word He said.  Sense His purpose, feel His passion, and bow in worship. “Having loved his own were in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love”(Jn 13:1). 

Ready or not, it’s time to contemplate and celebrate!

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified”(Jn 12:23).

The Tree

My Christmas tree came down last night.  “Finally!” you say for Easter is just around the corner, and though such is so, the dismantling of my lovely decoration did not come any easier.  However, it did come with more meaning.

I’m glad I left my tree up for so long because it gave me plenty of time to ponder its merit and appreciate its splendor.  Every day since the end of November, the lights woven throughout its branches were the first thing on in the morning and the last thing off at night.  During breakfast, I marveled at its sparkling beauty and smiled.  As I walked in from work each afternoon, I breathed in the refreshing aroma of evergreen and sighed with delight.  (Yes, it still had that fantastic fir tree smell, even after all this time.  And, yes, it was still mostly green. Only in the past week had tinges of brown begun to show.)  In the history of holidays, some may enjoyed their Christmas trees as much as I did, but no one has ever enjoyed one more.  

As I boxed up the balls and packed away the garland, my daughter slowly and sweetly began to sing the first verse of a familiar carol.  “Hark! the herald angels sing, ‘Glory to the newborn King!’”  Her voice sounded so angelic I couldn’t help but hark, and as I did, I heard the sweetest words ever sung. “Peace on earth, and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.”

After thousands of years of trouble and turmoil, the only legitimate prospect for lasting peace arrived on earth as a baby. Grace bundled in a blanket. Mercy small and weak and meek and mild.

But Mercy didn’t stay mild.  Mercy grew quickly and became mighty and fierce and relentless and overwhelming and amazing, and with a courage we can never conceive, Mercy walked straight to a rugged cross for our redemption.  And then in a staggering display of astonishing power, He defeated the ultimate enemy of death and walked straight out of the tomb.

That’s why my Christmas tree had to come down.  Because the delight of the baby’s arrival has to give way to the celebration of His sacrifice, or the story is incomplete.  The tree of Christmas simply starts the path to the tree of Calvary—the only place where we can find “God and sinners reconciled.”

Don’t wait for the herald angels.  Start the song yourself.

“Glory to the Risen King!”