a reflection for holy week: a Savior for betrayers

The long-awaited day had arrived.  Since Jesus had begun His ministry, whisperings about Him had been heard all through the land of Israel.  There were people who guessed He might be the Messiah, the coming Deliverer who was prophesied about in the Old Testament.  So when He got on a colt and rode into the city of Jerusalem the week of the Passover celebration, when the town was bustling with celebration and out of town visitors were everywhere, it seemed like perfect timing.  Everyone around, a big crowd of people, were caught up in the excitement.  They spread their cloaks and palms beneath Him…treating Him with honor, like a King.

The long oppression of the Romans…was it finally over?  Everyone in Jerusalem saw the Messiah, the promised Deliverer, to be a military hero…they thought that Jesus would clobber the Romans and set them free from their oppression.  So they wave palm branches, which were political and nationalistic symbols, like waving an American flag would be today…and they cry out, “Hosanna!” which means, “Please save us!”…but they are blind to their need for spiritual deliverance.  All they want is their homeland back again.  All they want is a Jesus on their own terms.

Jesus for His part is deliberately fulfilling an Old Testament promise about the Messiah in order to push the envelope with the Jewish leaders, so they would push things toward the crucifixion.  He knew that the Jewish religious leaders would see His actions as directly related to Old Testament prophecy, the prophecy that we read this morning in Zechariah 9, “Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion! Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!  See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” 

That’s why Jesus deliberately sent His disciples out to find a colt.  He wanted to exactly fulfill Old Testament prophecy in order to get the religious leaders’ attention.  He knew that they would do anything to preserve the little bit of power they had by cooperating with the Romans.  He knew they would see Him as a challenge to their power, and He knew that they would try to kill him, that He would be crucified and rise again.  Acts 2:23 says, “This man [Jesus] was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge, and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross” (NIV).  In other words, God knew exactly what was going to happen…Jesus knew exactly what was going to happen…the Holy Spirit knew exactly what was going to happen when Jesus rode into Jerusalem in fulfillment of Old Testament Scripture.  Jesus was going to get Himself killed…at the hands of the religious people.

And so we are pulled in and implicated in the crucifixion.  It wasn’t the secular Romans, the world, that was out to get Jesus…it was the religious people.  The Romans were just the means of execution.  So when you think about it, that means it was us.  All too often, just like the people of Israel, we think that the problem is all the people who are outside, those worldly people who don’t value old-time values and old-time religion…all the while, we miss the fact that the real problem is us. And that truth hurts.

What is it that we do wrong?  We have a tendency to try to make Jesus do and be what we want Him to do and be.  We try to make Jesus into the God we want Him to be, instead of the God that He is.  We want a leader who does everything for us without requiring anything of us. 

We do this in several ways.  First of all, when we—like the crowd in Jerusalem that welcomed Jesus with palms—confuse our nation with God’s Kingdom.  The people of Israel just wanted their nation back again.  This is not so very unlike those in the Church who spend all their time and energy trying to make the United States into a Christian nation, as if God’s Kingdom could be found in an earthly government. 

Obviously, God cares about the government and can use it to do good in the world, and we ought to do all we can to see that that happens.  But…there has snuck into the Church an angry, fists-in-the-air, defensive attitude towards the world…as if non-believers out there are trying to steal "our" country from us. 

What if, instead of expecting the world to act like the Church, we acted like the Church should?  What if we taught and served and loved in such a way that people sat up, took note, and began to ask us (as Peter suggests), “What is the reason for the hope that is within you?”  Yes, we are just like the people in Jerusalem when we demand that Jesus give us political power and a Christian nation instead of realizing that the Church often functions best as a loving minority, serving and reaching out to a broken world.  That’s how the Early Church worked!

We also act like the people in Jerusalem when we praise God at Church but deny Him by our actions the rest of the week.  I think most of us would have to admit to this.  It is super easy to come to church and sing songs of praise and act religious but when we return to our homes and work places, all too often we treat our family and co-workers badly.  We act selfishly.  We break each of the Ten Commandments.  We do not spend the time in the Bible and in prayer that we should.  We don’t care for the needy as we should.  We don’t forgive.  We don’t share our faith in a loving way with those around us.  We are quick with the Hosannas but slow to follow through.

The people of Jerusalem were all excited to praise Jesus when it was convenient for them…when they thought He would be a military leader who would set them free from Rome.  But when He didn’t move fast  enough for them, when He began to lead in a more spiritual manner and didn’t take out the Romans, they quickly became a part of the fickle crowd shouting, “Crucify Him!”

I see myself in that fickle crowd too. For example, there was a time in my life when I was going to school and even though I had always gone to church every Sunday before that time, I found myself getting up on Sunday mornings and saying, “I’m too tired to go to church.”  And so all too frequently, I wouldn’t go.  I see my own times of faithlessness, my own following Jesus just when it is convenient for me, my own confusing the Kingdom of God with my country…and the many other ways that I try to make Jesus the leader I want Him to be, instead of the God that He is.  I try to make Him bow to my desires instead of bowing to His will. 

The bottom line is, we are all implicated.  There is no escape for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.  We turn away from Jesus.  We are not faithful.  We are His betrayers.  We are the ones who will shout in a few days’ time, “Crucify Him!”  We are the ones who drive the nails into His hands and feet.

But here’s the good news: when we face our naked selves and see the depth of our sin, when we see how far we have wandered from God, our creative and surprising God takes even our failure and sin and turns it around and uses it as a tool in His hand to save and redeem us.  Again, Acts 2:23-24 says, “This man [Jesus] was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge, and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross.  But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him” (NIV).

God knew what we would do. God knew we were going to kill Jesus.  So He took that very thing, that most evil of things that we did, and turned it around.  Jesus humbly emptied Himself, as Philippians told us, took on our sin and the punishment for it, and then rose again, showing that He had conquered sin, death, and the devil. 

Christ came for you.  He rode into Jerusalem for you, even though He knew you were only offering convenient words of praise, even though He knew you would desert Him when the going got tough, even though He knew you would turn away, even though He knew that you would kill Him and not just with any old death but with an excruciatingly painful death. 

But He still rode into Jerusalem for you.  He did it because His love is an insanely powerful kind of love.  It’s a love that embraces the unlovely.  It’s a love that pulls in the unfaithful.  It’s a love that chases down the rebellious.  Romans 5:6-8 says, “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” 

He died for you before you were a believer, when you were at your ugliest and worst.  And He still loves you when you wander from Him.  He will keep chasing you down.  He will keep pursuing you.  He will never give up on you.  Because you, you who are His betrayer (and I who am His betrayer), are precious to Him.  And He came to set you free from sin, death and the power of the devil.  To make you His own.  To bring you out of the kingdom of darkness and into the kingdom of light.  To adopt you as His child.  And this giving of Christ for you and for me, though we do not deserve it, is the very Gospel, the very good news.  Amen.

happy galentine's day!

Christopher and I are fans of the NBC comedy, Parks and Recreation.  In the sweet episode from last week, Leslie celebrates "Galentine's Day" (the day before Valentine's Day) by celebrating her female friends and attempting to find a love match for her best friend, Ann.

Well, I'm not going to try to find any of my single friends a husband; matchmaking has never been my forte!  But I do want to take this invented holiday to reflect with thankfulness on the wonderful gift of female friends in my life.

I'm afraid that for many of my single years, I didn't appreciate female friends as much as I should have.  My focus was so fully on finding a husband to love that I placed less value on female relationships.  Plus, I thought I had more in common with male friends.  How little I knew!

But the beginnings of marriage and motherhood have shown me that while a wonderful, loving husband is a gift of God, there are some parts of life that only a woman friend can understand--because your experience is her experience too!

Only a woman can understand the crazy ups and downs affecting our emotions and bodies each month.

Only a woman understands how physically connected we feel to our children, in such a way that we would kill or be killed if only to protect them

Only a woman understands the wonder of feeling a tiny baby growing within your womb.

Only a woman understands how draining it is to have birthed a new baby.

Only a woman understands the guilty feelings as she is pulled between work and home, always feeling she is letting someone down.

Only a woman understands postpartum depression.

Only a woman knows what it is like to feed another human being from her body.

Only a woman understands the anxiety of each stage of motherhood, as we struggle to figure out what is best for our children.

So....for all of my female friends who I am blessed to have in my life...thank you, from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you for your kind, loving words.  Thank you for your Facebook messages and emails when I need a word of encouragement or advice.  Thank you for your phone calls.  Thank you for cooking for me when I was torn in body and spirit from the pains of labor.  Thank you for making time for me.  Thank you for encouraging me in faith.  Thank you for being a sisterhood to me.

Happy Galentine's Day, ladies!  I love you!

the manger and the "perfect" christmas

I don't know about you, but I have all kinds of crazy expectations for a "perfect" Christmas.  On a perfect Christmas, every member of my family should be in a good mood.  Heck, they should be positively sweet and charming.  I should never have a case of the "Christmas grouchies."  I should never have to deal with family conflicts.  I should give and receive the perfect presents.  I should do endless amounts of baking and supply not only family and friends but picturesque, perfect culinary creations, but I should also give them to those who are alone.  I should have gorgeous buffet, worthy of magazine photography, on Christmas morning .

But growing up, I experienced a lot of conflict over the holidays.  There was a lot of pain.  It got to where I began to dread the holidays. (And sometimes I still have carry-over feelings: why even get excited for Christmas when something awful will happen?)  Two years ago, my dad went into Hospice over the holidays (and, believe me, that is a phone call you don't want to get any time of the year). 

None of us want to experience anything less than perfection at the Holidays.  We don't want the death of a loved one.  We don't want depression.  We don't want a divorce.  We don't want a family feud.  We don't want the diagnosis of a serious illness.  It breaks our hearts.  Can't just this one season of the year be magical? 

We see the shiny images of people on TV advertisements, smiling, laying out perfect table spreads, kissing, getting engaged, having perfect families, having perfectly dressed children...and it just rings false.  But we dare not mention our private pain to others.  Who wants to be the downer at the party when asked if we are having a good Christmas?  Who wants to answer, "No, I'm not.  My heart is breaking this year."

Well, there is one family at the very first Christmas that definitely did not have a perfect day: Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus.  Let's face it, this group of peasants would have felt out-of-place at the lavish galas held in honor of Christmas these days.  Imagine traveling for several days on a donkey while nine months pregnant.  Imagine people whispering that you were unfaithful to your fiance--or perhaps that both of you had "gotten together" out of wedlock.  Imagine feeling that everything was going wrong; just when you wanted to be home in your own bed, Caesar calls for a census!  And the birthplace of this Little One who changed the world forever?--A barn.  His first bed?--A feed trough, a manger.  In this of all places, Mary and Joseph brought the Greatest Being to ever take on flesh and blood into the world.  To be born amongst the squalor of animals, to be feet away from their droppings, to have nobody have enough room for you lie inside on your first night on earth...this is who Jesus is. 

We forget this.  We forget that the very reason Jesus came was that our world is so very imperfect.  We forget their our illnesses and deaths and conflicts and inner pain are the very reason He left the beauty of heaven to become mortal, to become one of us.  He didn't have to do it...unless you take into account that God is Love.  And Love cannot help but pour itself out for the other. 

Jesus came because we are so broken and we need to be healed.  He came because sin so infects our soul that we needed to be freed.  The only way to do this was to go to the cross for us.  Yes, that sweet baby lying in the manger had one objective in mind: To grow only about as old as I am today, and then to die on the cross, taking all the evil and brokenness and sin of the whole world on His shoulders so that you and I could be freed.

If you ever worry that you are not having a perfect Christmas, if you ever worry that you are shut out from the perfect celebration you think everyone else is having (they're not!), remind yourself that the very first Christmas was very imperfect too.  It's not about having the perfect celebration.  Yes, we celebrate in the grandest way we can, because we celebrate to honor the King who has done so much for us.  But as we celebrate, we must never forget that the meaning of this word, Incarnation (God becoming human for us) is that Jesus has sunk so deep down into our flesh and bone that our brokenness has become His, and His new life has become ours.  The new life He gives is as fresh and filled with hope as the first cry of a brand new baby.  Suddenly, the future looks bright...alive...filled with possibility.  For we do not just have hope for this life, but also hope for the life to come.

I give thanks that Jesus understands my brokenness.  That He has entered fully into it.  That He is compassionate and full of mercy towards me, and towards you.

If you have been reading this blog for a while, intrigued by the concept of faith from the outside, never having experienced it from the inside, then feel this Jesus moving in your heart today.  Jesus said in John 6:44, "No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him."  So, if you feel that tug in your heart, that gift of faith, you can know that it is from God.  Romans 10 says, "if you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved" (verse 9).  Verse 13 promises, "'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'"

What a gift!  What a promise!  He came for you...In your unemployment.  In your marital struggles.  In your depression.  In your illness.  In your loss of a loved one.  In your struggle with the wrong things in your heart.  He came for you.  Thanks be to God!

no "thanksgiving" without someone to thank

You cannot have a secular Thanksgiving holiday.

I repeat, it is impossible to have a secular Thanksgiving holiday.

Now, I know that initially this sounds like nonsense.  Obviously, lots of people who don't believe in God or actively practice any form of faith regularly gather for turkey and the fixings.  They may even take a moment in their meal to hold hands and mention the things they are thankful for this year.

But what I want to argue is that the very act of "giving thanks" or "being thankful" suggests Someone to whom we are grateful.  The very act of thanksgiving is like a prayer.

When we have good things in our lives, something within us wells up with joy and the longing to be grateful to Someone.  This is a longing for God that has been given to us.

Of course, the secular emphasis of many holidays has been pushed lately.  People want to participate in the fun of the holidays without the claim that believing in God would make on them.  If God has been good to me and I am thankful to Him, perhaps I should interact in relationship with Him.  Perhaps I should stop ignoring Him.  Perhaps I should crack open that Bible.  Perhaps I should start living my life in the way that it teaches.

So, we try to have our cake and eat it too.  We try to enjoy the "fun" aspects of holidays without anything in our lives changing.  We want to open presents on Christmas, set up a Christmas tree, and maybe even go to church on Christmas Eve.  But we just want to feel inspirational "warm fuzzies."  We don't want the preacher to challenge us.  We don't want to think about the idea that a baby had to be born to save us from our sins.

This mindset is bleeding into Thanksgiving as well.  For awhile, I have heard Thanksgiving called "Turkey Day."  But this morning I saw a commercial, put out by Party City, that refers to Thanksgiving as "Football Feast."  The idea for this blog post had already been percolating in my brain, and I said to myself, "Really? We're not giving thanks to anyone?  We're just gorging ourselves and watching football!"



I have hope though.  I still thank the vast majority of people feel thankful on Thanksgiving.  I think the vast majority of people stop in the midst of the busyness of life and quietly whisper thanks.  Even if they don't go to church.  Even if faith doesn't play too big of a role in their lives.  There is still that quiet thankful yearning, to tell Someone they appreciate all they have been given.

And that quiet yearning is a God-given opportunity.  Next time a friend says to you, "I just feel so thankful for all my blessings," maybe you could stop and remind them that God is the One who has given all things to them, and that He loves them dearly.

 I’m sharing my awesome with Momma Made It Look Easy and you can too.

and she turns three...

Cinderella cake from Safeway.  Before her skirt melted.

I have been going on and on about the "terrible threes" in recent posts, but Burrito actually turned 3 only this weekend.  I had been looking forward to this day for a couple of months at least.  I could hardly wait to absolutely delight my daughter.  And she had been looking forward to her birthday for months too.  She was well-acquainted with the idea that birthdays mean presents and cake.  Every day, she asked, "It my birthday today???"  And every day, we had to say no.

And so, it was highly amusing when she woke up on her actual birthday and turned on the light in her room and got to playing, completely unaware that the longed-for day had actually arrived!  Christopher and I went in to see her and told her we had a song to sing to her.  We sang "Happy Birthday" and delight began to spread across her face as it began to dawn on her that it had at last arrived! 

She had pancakes for breakfast and got to open presents and got to do pretty much whatever she wanted (within reason).  She took a nap and in the evening, her friends began to arrive for her very first kid party.  I hadn't told her that they would probably bring presents because I didn't want her to have a case of the "gimmees" and I didn't want anyone to feel pressured to bring something.  So when each family showed up at the door with a gift bag in hand, she was so excited!  I had to smile.

Well, we had a few mishaps along the way.  We ran out of propane for the barbecue grill and Christopher made it to the hardware store just before it closed.  Whew, that was a close one.  And part of the frosting on Burrito's Cinderella cake melted as the kitchen got warm (but luckily, I don't think Burrito noticed).  And then there was the whole insult to my skills as a cake-maker that were overlooked in Burrito's preference for a sugary (tasteless?) store-bought cake.  But for once my foodie self yielded to my daughter.  A Cinderella cake she wants?  A Cinderella cake she shall have!

It was a wonderful evening.  Guests stayed in the backyard until the sun began to set.  Children decorated our patio with sidewalk chalk.  Children ran everywhere.  Children played in the new sandbox we gave Burrito.  Children blew bubbles.  Adults conversed happily.  The food spread was delicious (thanks to the birthday party ideas of Pioneer Woman, we served sliders and homemade mac and cheese with a topping bar of caramelized onions, Gorgonzola cheese and bacon...yum!). 

My heart was so full watching my daughter happily playing with her friends.  You see, growing up I had virtually no friends...or at least, virtually no "in person" friends.  Partly due to my shyness, partly due to a little over-protectiveness from my parents, and partly due to frequent moves that made it hard to put down roots, I was pretty lonely growing up, even if I didn't always acknowledge it to myself.  I love that my daughter has such wonderful social skills, such an ability to make new friends and interact with them whole-heartedly.  I love that she doesn't feel lonely most of the time.  After all, God made us for relationships, with Himself and others.

And my heart was full as I looked around at the group of parents who had gathered with us for this special day.  I was so very lonely in North Dakota, and now God has set this lonely one in a family of other believers with whom I can be myself, warts and all.  Each of the friends who gathered with us add something very special to my life.  I am a better person for knowing them all. 

My heart is full indeed...and my daughter is three...what joy...

fourth of july weekend in the flathead valley

What a joyful weekend we have had!  Now that the June rains have passed, and the sun is out regularly, we find ourselves out and about and enjoying life in the Flathead Valley more and more each day.

The Von Trapp Children

On Friday, I had tremendous thrill.  I recently found out that the Von Trapp children live in the Flathead Valley.  My Bible study group has an annual 4th of July picnic the weekend before the holiday and for our entertainment, the Von Trapp children came to sing.  Yes, those Von Trapp children, as in the great grandchildren of Captain Von Trapp from The Sound of Music.  Now, you have to understand that growing up, The Sound of Music was a huge part of my childhood.  Our family popped popcorn and watched it almost every Sunday night.  I have large portions of it memorized and I have loved it all of my life.  I never dreamed I would get a chance to meet some of the Von Trapps.  I brought Burrito with me to the picnic, so she could experience it too, and she cuddled close while we listened.  The Von Trapp children are the real deal.  They are not capitalizing on their name, but in fact sing angelically together, their voices blending flawlessly, their faces glowing with joy in song.  They are also humble and approachable.  I got to meet two of them and tell them how much The Sound of Music meant to me as a child. 

A good stretch after a good run.

We started our day on the 4th of July with Christopher taking to the road for his twenty-first 5k, this one for Grateful Nation Montana, an organization that provides scholarships for the children of fallen Montana soldiers, killed in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.  He encouraged church members to be involved in running and volunteering.  It was a warm morning, with lots of sunshine and it was great to see people coming together for a good cause.  Christopher, as usual, made great time (28:33...his second fastest time by a second).  We raced home to get chairs and a mat and our friend, Audrey, and hurried back downtown to claim a spot for the parade.

With this much soy sauce at Island Noodles, how can you go wrong?

4th of July is a BIG deal in Bigfork.  I have never seen that many people in town before, and was even told by one local that they thought it was in fact the biggest crowd ever for the 4th. The parade stretched on and on, curiously lacking any high school bands (although a company of bagpipers was present). 

It was a festive atmosphere though, and the line for Island Noodles stretched long down the street.  I braved the line, which moved relatively quickly, figuring any place with giant cannisters of soy sauce was worth the wait (and I'd had my first taste of the noodles earlier that weekend at the Whitefish Art Festival).  As I watched the parade begin, I dug into those hot soba noodles, laden down with crunchy vegetables.  Oh yeah, baby.

The sea of people leave the parade.

After the parade, we braved the crowds to head home for a cookout.  Seriously, how did we cram this many people into town? 

We laid out a feast of grilled hamburgers, roasted corn with Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese and butter, potato salad, watermelon, red cabbage slaw, and Maple-Dijon baked beans. 

After supper, we packed up a dessert picnic of pecan shortbread with sugared berries and homemade whipped cream.  We drove down to the lake and sat on the shore watching private fireworks displays.

Burrito had never seen fireworks before and had never been allowed to stay up so late just for fun.  She had a ball, popping her hands in the air, "Fireworks say boom!"  The mountains cupped the bowl of the lake and I stared, in awe of their beauty.  The beach was not crowded, the water was calm, and the air was sweet.  It was a peaceful evening, full of joy and happiness.  And it wrapped up the weekend beautifully.