Silent Saturday

On Saturday, God was silent.

Sandwiched between Friday’s horror and Sunday’s hallelujah is Saturday’s silence.  It was the Sabbath—a day of rest and rejoicing.  A time for contemplation of what God had done and anticipation of what He would do.  On Saturday, Jesus’ followers could do neither.  Rest would not come, for the reality was too raw.  And in what could they rejoice?

The dream was dead.  The final act finished, with the curtain closed forever.  This was a true tragedy—ending with the funeral of the main character. 

They were shocked and stunned.  Jesus had called and they had come, certain He was the Savior.  He spoke and the lame leaped.  He touched and the blind could see.  His word had healed desperate lepers and hailed a dead Lazarus.  Couldn’t He have done something?  Anything?

On Saturday, the disciples weren’t together.  Safety may be in numbers, but crowds bring little comfort.  Jesus had promised peace, but they were full of pain.  He had assured them of abundance, but each felt empty. And all wondered, “Why?”

The ones who loved Him weren’t waiting in hope.  They were weeping.  They didn’t dream of a vacant grave.  They were grieving.  There was no expectation.  No suspense.  No “wait and see.”  Only silence.  And the sound of heavy hearts breaking in sorrow.

We will never know the depth of their despair, for we will never spend a moment alive when Jesus is dead.

Saturday was silent, but the hush was holy.  No one heard the rustling backstage as Jesus readied for His curtain call.  They really should have known.  Many times He had told them.

All’s well that ends well.

You're Welcome

“Whoever is thirsty, let him come.”  Revelation 22:17

I noticed something new during last Sunday’s communion.  The pewter goblet my pastor held up to represent the Passover cup was embossed with a small pineapple at the top. Since the juice inside didn’t come from the fruit on the outside, why the decoration?

The story goes something like this:  When Christopher Columbus and crew arrived on our side of the world for the second time, they came across a fruit Columbus described in his ship’s log as having the shape of a pine cone and the sweetness of an apple—hence, the pineapple.  This delicious fruit became a luxury item in the courts of Europe and, later, in the finest homes of the United States.  Since growing the fruit in cool climates was impossible, the few fresh ones that were shipped to New York or Boston were often rented out as decorations for fancy dinner parties. After several evenings of gracing tables as stunning centerpieces, a pineapple would be purchased by a wealthy family and finally cut and served as a rare delicacy.  Dinner guests who saw a pineapple at their party knew that no expense had been spared in providing them the best. This generosity of hosts and hostesses, combined with the Caribbean practice of setting a pineapple outside the door if receiving visitors, turned the pineapple into the international symbol of welcome and hospitality.

My pastor had not purchased a pineapple cup on purpose, but the symbol could not be more fitting for nowhere on earth can a table be found where the host is more generous and the guests more welcomed.  The One who invites us to His supper paid for the meal with His very life, and He will never turn away any who come. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty”(Jn 6:35).  “The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come!’ And let him who hears say, ‘Come!’  Whoever is thirsty, let him come; and whoever wishes, let him take the free gift of the water of life”(Rev 22:17).

The door has been flung open wide, and any who desire may walk right in. No expense has been spared in providing the very best, and no meal has ever cost so much.  “He took the break, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body given for you…In the same way, he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you”(Lk 22:19-20.) 

Because Jesus went to the cross, we can come to the table.

You’re very welcome.

Savor the Flavor

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.” Psalm 34:8

Yesterday was the first Sunday of the month which means it was communion Sunday at my church, and I’d been counting down the days. Let’s just start by setting the record straight--hands down, my church has the best communion bread on the planet.  Please don’t be offended because I’m sure your church is lovely and delightful and that your communion bread is special too, but mine is the best.   It’s made from a recipe that probably came over on a boat from the Old World centuries ago, and it’s a lot like a little shortbread cookie—which is exactly why I was so excited.

In an effort to help focus my mind and heart on God’s grace and sacrifice, I gave up sugary treats for Lent, but I knew that when the first Sunday in April rolled around, I would have a one-half inch square of sweetness to savor, and I could hardly wait for the tasty morsel to touch my tongue.

It did not disappoint. Usually the bit of bread has only a subtle sweetness, but yesterday the flavor was intense.  Had I not known better, I might have assumed the recipe had been altered, but I was the one who had changed.  By not dulling my senses with substitutes over the past several weeks, I was able to fully appreciate all the goodness of the real thing. 

As I scavenged the last crumb off my finger, the spiritual application was only too obvious.  How much of God’s sweet goodness do we miss by filling our lives with what’s fake? This world tempts us with plate after plate of enticing and inviting treats.  They look good.  They smell good.  And for a brief moment, they taste good—but before long their bitter aftertaste overpowers the temporary sweetness, and we are left longing for something more.

Thankfully, God’s table is set with endless dishes of delight which satisfy all our cravings and fulfill all our desires. “How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth”(Ps 119:103).  The Bible is an endless buffet offering holy fare for every course of our lives, and the more we dig in, the more we will crave all the goodness of the real thing. “O taste and see that the Lord is good”(Ps 34:8).

Don’t dull your senses by settling for substitutes.

Savor the flavor of God’s sweet grace.