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 Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:32 pm
This is an e-mail newsletter that I have begun getting and I will be posting what I get here.
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Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:33 pm
Day 1 “Behold, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and to the scribes; and they will condemn Him to death, and deliver Him to the Gentiles to mock and to scourge and to crucify. And the third day He will rise again.” - Matthew 20:18–19 The road from Jericho to Jerusalem was just fourteen miles. A half-day’s journey. Jesus is at the front of his band of disciples. A young soldier marching into battle. As Jesus states his mission, forget any suggestion that he was trapped and made a miscalculation. Ignore any speculation that the cross was a last-ditch attempt to salvage a dying mission. These words tell us that Jesus died . . . on purpose. No surprise. No hesitation. No faltering. The way Jesus marched to his death leaves no doubt: he had come to earth for this moment. The journey to the cross had begun long before leaving Jericho. As the echo of the crunching of the fruit was still sounding in the Garden of Eden, Jesus was leaving for Calvary. Jesus stepped toward Jerusalem with the promise of God in his heart. The divinity of Christ assured the humanity of Christ, and Jesus spoke loud enough for the pits of hell to vibrate: “And the third day He will rise again.” Is there a Jerusalem in your horizon? Are you on a brief journey from painful encounters? Are you only steps away from the walls of your own heartache? Learn a lesson from your master. The next time you find yourself on a Jericho road marching toward Jerusalem, put the promises of God on your lips. When the blackness of oppression settles around you, draw courage from the Word of God. ’Tis wise to march into Jerusalem with the promise of God in your heart.
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Posted: Fri Aug 15, 2014 4:36 pm
Day 2 “Then Mary took a pound of very costly oil of spikenard, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped His feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil.” - John 12:3 She was the only one who believed him. Whenever he spoke of his death, the others shrugged or doubted, but Mary believed. Mary believed because he spoke with a firmness she’d heard before. “Lazarus, come out!” he’d demanded, and her brother came out. After four days in a stone-sealed grave, he walked out. And as Mary kissed the now-warm hands of her just-dead brother, she turned and looked. Tear streaks were dry and the teeth shone from beneath the beard. Jesus was smiling. And in her heart she knew she would never doubt his words. So when he spoke of his death, she believed. “Now is the right time,” she told herself. It wasn’t an act of impulse. She’d carried the large vial of perfume from her house to Simon’s. It wasn’t a spontaneous gesture. But it was an extravagant one. The perfume was worth a year’s wages. Maybe the only thing of value she had. It wasn’t a logical thing to do, but since when has love been led by logic? Common sense hadn’t wept at Lazarus’s tomb. Love did, though. Extravagant, risky, chance-taking love. And now someone needed to show the same to the giver of such love. So Mary did. She stepped up behind him and stood with the jar in her hand. She began to pour. Over his head. Over his shoulders. Down his back. She would have poured herself out for him, if she could. The fragrance of the sweet ointment rushed through the room. “Wherever you go,” the gesture spoke, “breathe the aroma and remember one who cares.” The other disciples mocked her extravagance, but don’t miss Jesus’ prompt defense of Mary. “Why are you troubling this woman? She did an excellent thing for me.”Jesus’ message is just as powerful as it was then. “There is a time for risky love. There is a time to pour out your affections on one you love. And when the time comes—seize it, don’t miss it.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 16, 2014 9:40 am
Day 3 “And He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer,” but you have made it a “den of thieves.”’” - Matthew 21:13 It was Passover week. The Passover was the highlight of the Jewish calendar. People came from all regions and many countries to be present for the celebration. Upon arriving, they were obligated to meet two requirements. First, an animal sacrifice, usually a dove. The dove had to be perfect, without blemish. If you brought a sacrifice from your own source, it would be considered insufficient by the authorities in the temple. So, under the guise of keeping the sacrifice pure, the sellers sold doves—at their price. Second, the people had to pay a yearly temple tax. During Passover, the tax had to be rendered in local currency. Knowing many foreigners would be in Jerusalem to pay the tax, money changers conveniently set up tables and offered to exchange the foreign money for local—for a modest fee, of course. It’s not difficult to see what angered Jesus. Pilgrims journeyed days to see God, to witness the holy, to worship his Majesty. But before they were taken into the presence of God, they were taken to the cleaners. Want to anger God? Get in the way of people who want to see him. Exploit people in the name of God. In Christ stormed. Doves flapped and tables flew. People scampered and traders scattered. This was not an impulsive show or temper tantrum. It was a deliberate act with an intentional message. God will never hold guiltless those who exploit the privilege of worship. Christ’s passion on Monday is indignance. There are hucksters in God’s house. Remember why Jesus purged the temple. Those closest to it may be the farthest from it.
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Posted: Sun Aug 17, 2014 8:15 pm
Day 4
“The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus . . . got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, . . . and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.” John 13:2–5 NIV
It has been a long day. Jerusalem is packed with Passover guests, most of whom clamor for a glimpse of the Teacher. The spring sun is warm. The streets are dry. And the disciples are a long way from home. A splash of cool water would be refreshing.
The disciples enter the room, one by one, and take their places around the table. On the wall hangs a towel, and on the floor sits a pitcher and a basin. Any one of the disciples could volunteer for the job, but not one does.
After a few moments, Jesus stands and removes his outer garment. He wraps a servant’s girdle around his waist, takes up the basin, and kneels before one of the disciples. He unlaces a sandal and gently lifts the foot and places it in the basin, covers it with water, and begins to bathe it.
One grimy foot after another, Jesus works his way down the row. In Jesus’ day the washing of feet was a task reserved not just for servants, but for the lowest of servants.
In this case the One with the towel and basin is the King of the universe. Hands that shaped the stars now wash away filth. Fingers that formed mountains now massage toes. And the One before whom all nations will one day kneel now kneels before his disciples. Hours before his own death, Jesus’ concern is singular.
He wants his disciples to know how much he loves them.
You can be sure Jesus knows the future of these feet he is washing. These feet will dash for cover at the flash of a Roman sword. Only one pair of feet won’t abandon him in the garden. . . . Judas will abandon Jesus that very night at the table!
What a passionate moment when Jesus silently lifts the feet of his betrayer and washes them in the basin.
Jesus knows what these men are about to do. By morning they will bury their heads in shame and look down at their feet in disgust. And when they do, he wants them to remember how his knees knelt before them and he washed their feet. . . .
He forgave their sin before they even committed it. He offered mercy before they even sought it.
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Posted: Mon Aug 18, 2014 11:48 am
Day 5
“Then they came to a place which was named Gethsemane; and He said to His disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” And He took Peter, James, and John with Him, and He began to be troubled and deeply distressed.” Mark 14:32–34
Go with me for a moment to witness what was perhaps the foggiest night in history. The scene is very simple; you’ll recognize it quickly. A grove of twisted olive trees. Ground cluttered with large rocks. A low stone fence. A dark, dark night.
Now, look into the picture. Look closely through the shadowy foliage. See that solitary figure? Flat on the ground. Face stained with dirt and tears. Fists pounding the hard earth. Eyes wide with a stupor of fear. Hair matted with salty sweat. Is that blood on his forehead?
That’s Jesus. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.
Maybe you’ve seen the classic portrait of Christ in the garden. Kneeling beside a big rock. Snow-white robe. Hands peacefully folded in prayer. A look of serenity on his face. A halo over his head.
The painter didn’t use the Gospel of Mark as a pattern. When Mark wrote about that painful night, he used phrases such as these: “Horror and dismay came over him,” “My heart is ready to break with grief,” and “He went a little forward and threw himself on the ground.”
Mark used black paint to describe this scene. We see an agonizing, straining, and struggling Jesus. We see a “man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3 NASB). We see a man struggling with fear, wrestling with commitments, and yearning for relief.
We see Jesus in the fog of a broken heart.
The next time the fog finds you, remember Jesus in the garden. The next time you think that no one understands or cares, reread the fourteenth chapter of Mark and pay a visit to Gethsemane. And the next time you wonder if God really perceives the pain that prevails on this dusty planet, listen to him pleading among the twisted trees.
The next time you are called to suffer, pay attention.
It may be the closest you’ll ever get to God. Watch closely. It could very well be that the hand that extends itself to lead you out of the fog is a pierced one.
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Posted: Tue Aug 19, 2014 2:56 pm
Day 6
Jesus . . . knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take away this cup of suffering. But do what you want, not what I want.” His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. - Luke 22:41–44 NCV
The writer of Hebrews penned these words, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears to the one who could save him from death” (Hebrews 5:7 NIV).
It’s an expression of Jesus that puzzles us. We’ve never seen his face like this.
Jesus smiling, yes.
Jesus weeping, absolutely.
Jesus stern, even that.
But Jesus anguished? Cheeks streaked with tears? Face flooded in sweat? Rivulets of blood dripping from his chin?
Jesus was more than anxious; he was afraid. How remarkable that Jesus felt such fear. But how kind that he told us about it. We tend to do the opposite. Gloss over our fears. Cover them up. Keep our sweaty palms in our pockets, our nausea and dry mouths a secret. Not so with Jesus. We see no mask of strength. But we do hear a request for strength.
“Father, if you are willing, take away this cup of suffering.” The first one to hear his fear is his Father. He could have gone to his mother or confided in his disciples. He could have assembled a prayer meeting. All would have been appropriate, but none was his priority.
How did Jesus endure the terror of the crucifixion? He went first to the Father with his tears. He modeled the words of Psalm 56:3: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (NLT).
Do the same with yours. Don’t avoid life’s Gardens of Gethsemane. Enter them. Just don’t enter them alone. And while there, be honest. Pounding the ground is permitted. Tears are allowed. And if you sweat blood, you won’t be the first. Do what Jesus did; open your heart.
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Posted: Wed Aug 20, 2014 9:35 am
Day 7
“Judas had planned to give them a signal, saying, ‘The man I kiss is Jesus. Arrest him.’ At once Judas went to Jesus and said, ‘Greetings, Teacher!’ and kissed him.” Matthew 26:48–49 NCV
When betrayal comes, what do you do? Get out? Get angry? Get even? You have to deal with it some way. Let’s see how Jesus dealt with it.
Begin by noticing how Jesus saw Judas. “Jesus answered, ‘Friend, do what you came to do’” (Matthew 26:50 NCV).
Of all the names I would have chosen for Judas, it would not have been “friend.”
What Judas did to Jesus was grossly unfair. There is no indication that Jesus ever mistreated Judas. When, during the Last Supper, Jesus told the disciples that his betrayer sat at the table, they didn’t turn to one another and whisper, “It’s Judas. Jesus told us he would do this.” He had known it, but he treated the betrayer as if he were faithful.
It’s even more unfair when you consider that the religious leaders didn’t seek him; Judas sought them. “What will you pay me for giving Jesus to you?” he asked (Matthew 26:15 NCV). The betrayal would have been more palatable had Judas been propositioned by the leaders, but he wasn’t. He propositioned them.
And Judas’ method . . . why did it have to be a kiss?
And why did he have to call him “Teacher”? That’s a title of respect.
The incongruity of his words, deeds, and actions—I wouldn’t have called Judas “friend.” But that is exactly what Jesus called him.
Why? Jesus could see something we can’t. He knew Judas had been seduced by a powerful foe. He was aware of the wiles of Satan’s whispers. He knew how hard it was for Judas to do what was right.
He didn’t justify or minimize what Judas did. Nor did he release Judas from his choice. But he did look eye to eye with his betrayer and try to understand.
As long as you hate your enemy, a jail door is closed and a prisoner is taken. But when you try to understand and release your foe from your hatred, then the prisoner is released and that prisoner is you.
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