Jesus died for ambulance chasers.
Aberzombies and bigots, bitches and crib lizards, conservatives and deadbeats.
And Democrats.
Jesus died for ecofreaks.
Eggheads and fags, feminsts and geeks, gospelmongers and hellraisers. [click to continue…]
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For the last 2,000 years people from all over the world have staked their futures around two events that, for them, represent the most transforming experience in history. I’m referring to the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
One of the most compelling proofs of the power of those two events is in the changed character of Jesus’ followers. Talk about Jekyll-and-Hyde! This ragtag group of crazies went from cowering wimps to a fearless army of witnesses with a single message: Jesus lives.
These people didn’t wait until the resurrection to believe in Christ. But they experienced a profound change in their faith when they encountered a living, victorious Lord.
So will you.
Even today it’s possible to know in your head that Jesus is alive, but live as though it’s still Friday night. In other words to believe in Jesus as though He were dead. So how can you tell the difference? Here are five signs you’re living on “Friday night” faith: [click to continue…]
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19 For it was the Father’s good pleasure for all the fullness to dwell in Him, 20 and through Him to reconcile all things to Himself, having made peace through the blood of His cross; through Him, I say, whether things on earth or things in heaven (Colossians 1:19-20).
It pleased God to reconcile me to Himself through the blood of Christ’s cross.
This was His initiative.
The blood Jesus shed satisfied God’s righteous wrath, aimed against me because of my sin.
Now He takes pleasure in the reconciliation of all things in heaven and earth. [click to continue…]
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This is about a Father with four sons…
A Sailor.
A Driver.
A Flyer.
A Walker.
The Father provided richly for each of his sons. He gave them a home in which to flourish. He provided resources upon which to build their futures. He even saw to it that each was uniquely equipped and trained to succeed, according to his own natural bent.
Yet despite their obvious advantages, each son seemed convinced that there was more to life than living under the watchful, seemingly all-knowing gaze of his Father. Each seemed determined to find fulfillment on his own terms. And despite the obvious objections of the Father, each chose to go his own way. [click to continue…]
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The language of a Judge is to execute and liberate.
“knowing this, that our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin; for he who has died is freed from sin” (Romans 6:6-7).
The language of a Father is provision.
“God will provide for himself the lamb for the burnt offering, my son,” (Genesis 22:8). [click to continue…]
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How alone would you stand against a threatening environment or a hostile world to embrace someone who doesn’t stand a chance against it? I’ve met Someone who loves you like that. And He’d go to the ends of the earth to show it.
How patiently would you wait while shadows lengthen and sorrows deepen to hold someone who has nothing left to offer but brokenness and tears? I’ve experienced Someone who loves you like that. And He’d go to the ends of the earth to show it. [click to continue…]
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These days I make a trip to the bank just about every day. I’m on a first name basis with most of the tellers, which feels good. And most days it’s a pretty straightforward deal – one or two deposits, mostly business. Even a left-handed guy like me can get that right. About the worst mistake I ever made was driving around in a cluttered truck and realizing that beneath all that clutter was a deposit I forgot to make. For about a week.
Then came Friday. Four deposits. Three different accounts. And one of those was a check I’d written to myself to deposit in our personal account.
I pulled up to the window and realized I hadn’t endorsed the check I’d written to myself, so while the probie teller waited for me patiently, I paused to do that.
I’d venture to guess there was about a six-inch gap between the deposit drawer and my truck window. And somewhere in that six inches, as I reached for the drawer with a pile of bank bid-ness, that freshly-endorsed check was sucked away. Weird even for the dusty plains, the drive-through lanes had formed a wind tunnel. And the wind tunnel took my check.
My assumption: Oh. This is frustrating. I’ll have to get out of the truck and pick it up off the ground.
My reality: Y’all, it was gone. Vaporized. On its way to Amarillo, I suppose. I always fuss because Amarillo gets all the rain (out here we refer to it as “moisture”). Now they got my check. [click to continue…]
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“Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble…”
And the multitudes surrounded Him, and shouted words of praise
As He rode a strong young donkey through the holy city’s gates.
Everything they did exalted Him; they praised Him as their King,
But He never smiled in victory – He never said a thing.
And they all surrounded Him again in just a few short days,
But their cries had lost their ecstasy, their words had lost their praise.
Everyone through sticks and stones at Him, they mocked and cursed His name,
And the man they worshiped as their King hung on a cross in shame.
They all said, “Crucify! I’ll live the way that I want to live.”
They said, “Crucify! The Man asks for more than I can give.
Yes I love Him, but He simply doesn’t fit my plans,
And the only way to do what I want is to crucify this Man.”
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It’s a compelling image – one of thrones and rainbows and strange symbolic objects. But nothing more compelling to me than the scene of people on thrones falling down before the One who sits on THE throne, and offering their crowns… their worship.
It’s been popularized in Christian circles for centuries – best expressed in a cherished old hymn that speaks of “casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea.” People commonly say that whatever reward they get – whatever crown – they’re going to lay at the feet of Jesus.
There is no way to understand the significance of this, however, until we recognize that before Jesus took His crown He wore mine. Before He received worship Himself, He bore mine. My crown… my worship. [click to continue…]
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The men who were guarding Jesus began mocking and beating him. They blindfolded him and demanded, “Prophesy! Who hit you?” And they said many other insulting things to him (Luke 22:63-65, NIV).
Making fun.
Something we all do, to ourselves or to somebody else. Sometimes good-natured, sometimes amazingly insensitive.
But here it’s different. Here the “fun” is at the expense of the Son of God, and particularly His very nature. Verse 65 says they were blaspheming.
There is only one reason these men were able to do this – [click to continue…]
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