I Wouldn't, I Couldn't

10 "Yet it was the LORD's will to crush him and cause him to suffer, and though the LORD makes his life an offering for sin, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.
 11 After he has suffered, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities." (Isa. 53:10-11 NIV)

When I was at the Chinese church in Oregon, I was told a story that portrayed a redemptive act of father and son. 

There once were two warring families that gathered together for a great day of battle. And as sometimes happens (David and Goliath), the two kings agreed to send a representative to perform a great feat of courage. The two kings agreed to send their only sons. The two sons were to swim out into the middle of a lake and go under water. The first to rise for a breath would lose and their family would be slaves to the other. So the boys swam out and went under. Seconds became minutes. Minutes seemed to be hours. One of the boys eventually came up for air. Gasping, struggling, he swam to the shore to the embarrassment of his father and to the enslavement of his people. A loud cheer waved through the other side. The gloating smile of the victorious king stretched from ear to ear. But the water remained still and silent. Seconds became minutes. Minutes seemed to be hours. The other son, for the love of his father, for the love of his people, had gone down to the bottom and tied his clothing to a sunken tree root. The son had willingly drowned. 

It is very difficult for me to understand the love of Jesus for me. I don't understand how a person that I didn't know, who was perfect in every way, would even consider giving his life for me. "God demonstrated his love for me in that while I was a sinner Christ died for me" (Romans 5:8). Easy to memorize. Horrible for me to consider. 

But even more difficult is the idea of a father doing that to his own child - sending that child to a horrific death for others who rejected and despised him. There was no coming up for air. There was only death. To try and understand how a good Father would willfully crush his own Son, to cause him to suffer...I can't. I wouldn't. I couldn't. He did. 

The only way that this makes sense is to see the hope that is attached to his son's suffering. And by the way, don't jump to the selfish conclusion that this is about you. It's about Jesus. Although his life is cut short, although he will never marry or have children of his own, he will have offspring and more than you can count. The will of the Lord will prosper in his hand. He will see the light of life again because the Father will not let him rot in the grave. He will justify many and be the one who receives praise and glory and honor for bearing the sins of us all. 

Do I understand? I can't. All I know for certain is that I wouldn't. I couldn't. He did. 

Let us remember the sacrifice of both Father and Son tonight as we go on this Lenten journey together. 

Suffering Silently

"7 He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.
 8 By oppression and judgment he was taken away. Yet who of his generation protested? For he was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgression of my people he was punished.
 9 He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth." (Isa. 53:7-9 NIV)

Part of the sadness of "social separation" is the cancellation of our community Lenten services. Our "loaf and ladle" service (bread and soup suppers together as four churches) was a sweet time of fellowship and our time of worship even more so. As community pastors we have been teaching through sections of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah 53 and tonight Pastor James would have brought his unique thoughts to bear on the text. 

In his absence and in the absence of Pastor Mark and Steve, I thought I would carry us through. 

There is a contrast from verse 6 to 7. We, like sheep, go astray and we want our own way. It's called "sin." But Jesus, our Passover Lamb, had no sin and yet he suffered for us. And he suffered for us to give us an example of suffering. He took it. He understood that suffering was part of the plan. 

Here is where many Christians unwittingly become Buddhists. My life's goal is to not suffer, to get rid of things that bring suffering, to detach from life in such a way that I will not be affected negatively by this world and the desire for the things of this world. 

How different that is from Jesus who for the joy set before him endured the cross with its suffering and shame. How different that is from Jesus who learned obedience from what he suffered (Heb. 5:8) and became our perfect sacrifice. 

Peter tells us that, "When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. 'He himself bore our sins' in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; 'by his wounds you have been healed.' For 'you were like sheep going astray,' but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls." (1 Pet. 2:23-25 NIV)

Notice how many times Peter refers to the Suffering Servant of Isaiah in this short passage. Suffering has a purpose for all of us. It perfects us. It calls us to trust in a just Father. It calls us to a patient witness before our enemies - a witness that ended up bringing many an executioner to faith in Jesus. 

On this night of remembering our Lord and Savior, may the cry of our own heart be, "Not my will by Thine," and our song, "O to Be Like Him" - our beautiful, suffering, Savior. 

Contagious

Wow! Its been almost four years since I've hit the keys on this blog - an old friend who has waited patiently for my return. I write not from a renewed desire, but as a necessity. I write because an invisible enemy has taken over the globe - the COVID-19 virus. 

I started this blog many years ago because I wanted to put my thoughts down on issues that on the surface appear to be black and white (having a measure of certainty) but in reality or in practice were very much in the grey zone. 

Today I pick up the writers pen because such is the context that I find myself. The truth is that I don't know the truth about this virus. It is not black and white but a shade of grey. 

I have people in the medical field who are shouting "pandemic" and likening it to the Black Plague that will soon kill 80% of the planet. No one is saying this, of course, but that is what people are hearing. Their reassuring words fall on deaf ears as flights are canceled, grocery stores are inundated with depression minded hoarders, schools cancel, churches shut their doors, sports have come to a halt (they're running reruns of March Madness 2015 - I want a refund from the Cable company), etc... 

I have others in the medical community and even reporters who believe that this is so blown out of proportion that it borders on medical and social malpractice, equated with yelling fire in a crowded movie theatre when a hand full of people were caught smoking cigarettes in the corner. They fear for their jobs to even question the hype. They are not saying that it is not a real concern but equating this with the average influenza, which in the end, and may be statistically proven, to be far worse. 

Then there are those in the middle - people who are sorting it out, trying to follow the rules, being considerate, kind, and helpful, believing and trusting - me and probably most reading this blog. 

I think in the end, it really doesn't matter. We will never know how the strain started. We will never know if it was hype or hell. We just need to give people hope. 

I was thinking about what does matter: No particular order. 

1.  Loving people. Even those we disagree with. 
2.  Being kind and courteous. Pandemics are no excuse for forgetting your manners. 
3.  Being generous. Don't hoard. Look for ways you can responsibly share you possessions. It really does speak to where your treasures lie. 
4.  Community. I am going to miss my church family the next couple of Sundays. I will miss the handshakes, hugs, and kisses. I will miss the greeting of Bruce and Marlene at 8, the hug from Brother Rob, the prayer with the worship team, the old hymns and old saints, young saints and in between. The general atmosphere of belonging and worshipping our Lord and Savior together. So much to be thankful for...
5.  Trusting the one who is the Truth, the Way, and the Life - Jesus. The worst thing the virus can do to me is kill my body, but then I would be with Jesus. "O grave where is your victory, O death where is your sting." No worries on my end. 
6.  Being prepared. I think this is a wakeup call for the Church in general. We should have been expecting things like this to happen. After all, we're going around saying its the "last days" and yet living like we were in an episode of "Happy Days." My prayer is that this is the new normal. Church was never supposed to be a building but a group of people who communed with the phrase "until He comes" as their motivation and expectation. 
7.  Family. I hate being so far away from those who are dearest to us at such a time of crisis. But for such a time as this...we are where God would have us to be. 

Be contagious today. Not with the virus but with what matters.