…and who through the Spirit of holiness was declared with power to be the Son of God by His resurrection from the dead: Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 1:4 (NIV)
I had an interesting conversation with an elderly Jewish woman. She shared with me that she celebrated Christmas with her children and grandchildren. “Why not?” she asked. “Decorated trees, a man in a red suit, presents for everyone and a poor baby in a barn. Nothing wrong with that.” Evidently, the meaning of Christmas and the true identity of the “poor baby in the barn” was not threatening enough to her to deny the joys of Christmas to her family.
It made sense I thought. It would be difficult to live in America no matter what religious beliefs one follows without giving in to some yuletide traditions during the much-celebrated Christmas season.
“What about Easter?” I asked.
“Oh no,” she said. “My family has nothing to do with that holiday. Christmas is secular. But, Easter is another story. No other religion in the world claims to have as its leader a god who came back to life. Without Easter there is no Christianity.”
My Jewish friend did not quite have a complete view of Christian theology, but she did have a good point. I must admit, I never thought about Easter in exactly that way. Jesus Christ gave His life as a sacrifice to atone for the sins of the world. He rose triumphantly making eternal life a reality for each person who believes and gives their life to Him.
She is correct! No other “religion” can make that claim.
My dear Lord and Savior, thank You for the twin blessings of Your death for us and Your resurrection for us.
© Christy Struben 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Forsaken
Now when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour. And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out .... “My God, My God, why have you Forsaken Me?” Mark 15:33-34 (NKJV)
One black, moonless night In Utah, I attended a social event in a hilltop house. Last to arrive and last to leave, I stepped out into a silhouette of Hades …. no street lights, no car lights, no stars.
Falling was not an attractive thought, so with arms stretched out, and feet edging along the side of the road, I avoided thinking about snakes, tarantulas, and wild animals by remembering the Lord’s promise of never leaving us. That assurance, and the knowledge that the car was nearby averted panic.
Looking back, I know my feelings were minimal in comparison with what Jesus felt while on the cross between noon and three p.m. The physical and metaphorical gloom of that ominous solar eclipse did not equal the isolation, abandonment and despair revealed by His words, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” Unable to sense the Father’s presence, Jesus headed into a trial of black nothingness. He had to have known that the Lord was there, but His experience of separation was more intense than that of anyone else who has ever lived. Christ is the only one ever forsaken by God. On earth, it is the other way around. People forsake God.
Because Christ endured the separation, took our punishment of being cast into outer darkness, we can claim the Lord’s promise of never leaving us. Resurrection frees us from darkness.
Lord, I praise you for loving us and for saving us from eternal darkness. Amen.
© V. Colclasure 2011
One black, moonless night In Utah, I attended a social event in a hilltop house. Last to arrive and last to leave, I stepped out into a silhouette of Hades …. no street lights, no car lights, no stars.
Falling was not an attractive thought, so with arms stretched out, and feet edging along the side of the road, I avoided thinking about snakes, tarantulas, and wild animals by remembering the Lord’s promise of never leaving us. That assurance, and the knowledge that the car was nearby averted panic.
Looking back, I know my feelings were minimal in comparison with what Jesus felt while on the cross between noon and three p.m. The physical and metaphorical gloom of that ominous solar eclipse did not equal the isolation, abandonment and despair revealed by His words, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” Unable to sense the Father’s presence, Jesus headed into a trial of black nothingness. He had to have known that the Lord was there, but His experience of separation was more intense than that of anyone else who has ever lived. Christ is the only one ever forsaken by God. On earth, it is the other way around. People forsake God.
Because Christ endured the separation, took our punishment of being cast into outer darkness, we can claim the Lord’s promise of never leaving us. Resurrection frees us from darkness.
Lord, I praise you for loving us and for saving us from eternal darkness. Amen.
© V. Colclasure 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Easter No-See-Ums
These things I have spoken to you, That in Me you may have peace, In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world. John 16:33 NASB
As we stood under elegant live oaks draped with Spanish Moss, morning dew dripped from the curly tendrils. A mist hung over the Ashley River as a slight breeze stirred its marshy aroma. The scene was ethereal as we gathered in hushed expectation for the Easter sunrise service to begin.
This was my first Easter after being saved and our first since moving to Charleston, South Carolina. Everything felt new and perfect. My heart was bursting with gratefulness, as I contemplated what Jesus had done for me. On a morning such as this, so many years before, He arose, defeating death and the power of sin over me! Life was definitely looking up, just like the sun barely breaking the horizon across the river. Ahhh, peacefulness.
Ouch! Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting on my ankle. As I bent to rub it, another smarted on my neck, and then in the part of my hair. My husband was also under attack. Looking around, we seemed to be the only ones distracted by the sharp bites of something that appeared to be invisible.
After the service, a couple walking beside us explained the mystery: tiny insects that Charlestonians referred to as “no-see-ums,” for obvious reasons. Locals knew to prepare beforehand by applying a certain repellant to prevent being bitten.
Satan is watchful for opportunities to steal our peace. Jesus said we will have tribulation; not maybe, but will. The cure? Pray and take courage in Him. He has overcome the world by providing forgiveness through His death and resurrection.
Praise God, Jesus arose! AMEN!
© Bonnie M. Evans 2011
As we stood under elegant live oaks draped with Spanish Moss, morning dew dripped from the curly tendrils. A mist hung over the Ashley River as a slight breeze stirred its marshy aroma. The scene was ethereal as we gathered in hushed expectation for the Easter sunrise service to begin.
This was my first Easter after being saved and our first since moving to Charleston, South Carolina. Everything felt new and perfect. My heart was bursting with gratefulness, as I contemplated what Jesus had done for me. On a morning such as this, so many years before, He arose, defeating death and the power of sin over me! Life was definitely looking up, just like the sun barely breaking the horizon across the river. Ahhh, peacefulness.
Ouch! Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting on my ankle. As I bent to rub it, another smarted on my neck, and then in the part of my hair. My husband was also under attack. Looking around, we seemed to be the only ones distracted by the sharp bites of something that appeared to be invisible.
After the service, a couple walking beside us explained the mystery: tiny insects that Charlestonians referred to as “no-see-ums,” for obvious reasons. Locals knew to prepare beforehand by applying a certain repellant to prevent being bitten.
Satan is watchful for opportunities to steal our peace. Jesus said we will have tribulation; not maybe, but will. The cure? Pray and take courage in Him. He has overcome the world by providing forgiveness through His death and resurrection.
Praise God, Jesus arose! AMEN!
© Bonnie M. Evans 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Crack
…forgive your brother from the heart. Matthew 18:35b (NIV)
Imagine yourself living in a beautiful house. Upon looking out the front window, you see Christ walking up the flower-lined sidewalk to the front door. Your welcoming arms invite Him to come in. As the two of you walk down the center hallway, He sees the beautifully decorated rooms. At the end of the hall is a closed door. He asks to see the room. Reluctantly you open the door and enter a cluttered, trashed room. Christ sees the trap door in the floor and asks to go down into the basement. You hesitate.
A huge crack runs from the base to the top of the foundation. Christ reveals a strong wooden cross extending the length of the house with the cross beam supporting the structure above. The wooden beam also holds together the cracked foundation.
This vision captured my heart. It brought me to an understanding of Christ holding my foundation together and fully forgiving me from the cross. A month after this exercise at a seminar, I visited my daughter’s church. As I am walked through the halls, the same vision of the cross in my perpetrator’s basement was very clear to me. I needed to forgive someone for a past sin of 40 years ago. Christ died on the cross for him, too. Later that morning the sermon dealt with forgiving your brother seventy times seven from Matthew 18:21-35.
Only the cross could have given me the peace and freedom that I now live. My foundation is secure because Christ died on the cross for the forgiveness of sin.
Dear Lord, help us to forgive others and live the lives You intended for us.
© 2011 Mary Burkey
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Easter Pageant
Dear Friends...I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. Jude 1:3b (NIV)
Years ago, a local church presented an Easter pageant. My husband and I attended, along with my daughter and son-in-law and my mother. Mother sat on the end seat next to the aisle. When Pontius Pilate washed his hands and the crowds cried out "Crucify him!" there wasn't a dry eye in the auditorium.
Mother was completely engrossed in the play as the soldiers marched a beaten and bloodied Jesus down the aisle and up to Golgotha's hill. As the last solider passed, Mother reached out and smacked his shoulder with her umbrella. The soldier turned around, surprised. She realized then what she had done and, embarrassed, she ducked her head, shielding her face with her hand.
The suffering of Jesus was very real to Mother, and she had forgotten momentarily that this was a play. She was defending Jesus, her Savior.
As Christians, we should be ready to defend our faith in Jesus too. He willingly sacrificed His life on the cross. What He did for us deserves defending.
Lord Jesus, may the Easter memorial remind us of Your sacrifice for us. We thank You for the joy of Your resurrection and the one to come for all mankind. Amen.
© 2011 E. Bonnie Ryan
Years ago, a local church presented an Easter pageant. My husband and I attended, along with my daughter and son-in-law and my mother. Mother sat on the end seat next to the aisle. When Pontius Pilate washed his hands and the crowds cried out "Crucify him!" there wasn't a dry eye in the auditorium.
Mother was completely engrossed in the play as the soldiers marched a beaten and bloodied Jesus down the aisle and up to Golgotha's hill. As the last solider passed, Mother reached out and smacked his shoulder with her umbrella. The soldier turned around, surprised. She realized then what she had done and, embarrassed, she ducked her head, shielding her face with her hand.
The suffering of Jesus was very real to Mother, and she had forgotten momentarily that this was a play. She was defending Jesus, her Savior.
As Christians, we should be ready to defend our faith in Jesus too. He willingly sacrificed His life on the cross. What He did for us deserves defending.
Lord Jesus, may the Easter memorial remind us of Your sacrifice for us. We thank You for the joy of Your resurrection and the one to come for all mankind. Amen.
© 2011 E. Bonnie Ryan
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Yes, Lord
Ye shall find a colt ..... bring him. And if anyone say unto you, Why do ye this? Say ye, The Lord hath need of him. (Mark 11:2b-3a ASV)
On Palm Sunday the Lord sent his disciples to find a donkey. If questioned, they were to reply, “The Lord has need of him.” There are two odd aspects to Jesus’ request.
First, why would the Lord need anything? He once directed a fish to deliver a coin to Peter. He could have had an animal walk in from the hills. Second, would I hand over my car to strangers just because somebody said, “The Lord needs it?” Why did these people hand over their animal?
Answering the second question is fairly easy. The colt’s owners probably knew about Jesus and recognized the disciples. Their trust in Jesus allowed them to place the colt into the care of the Lord’s followers.
Actually, this answer solves the first question. The Lord didn’t need to borrow the colt, but He did need to give believers opportunity to be a part of the kingdom, to demonstrate trust in Him. The Lord could send ravens with food to every hungry person. Instead He asks us to give it. He helps hurting people, but also provides parents, friends, or fellow believers to advise, encourage or help them. Just as He appeared to Paul, the Lord could appear to each individual, but He asks us to teach and baptize others.
I wonder about those nameless owners of the colt. Did they stand on the wayside and joyfully wave palm branches? How grateful they must have been to have had a special part in the joy and acclamation of Palm Sunday!
May I also have the opportunity and joy of saying “yes” to You. Amen.
© 2011 V. Colclasure
On Palm Sunday the Lord sent his disciples to find a donkey. If questioned, they were to reply, “The Lord has need of him.” There are two odd aspects to Jesus’ request.
First, why would the Lord need anything? He once directed a fish to deliver a coin to Peter. He could have had an animal walk in from the hills. Second, would I hand over my car to strangers just because somebody said, “The Lord needs it?” Why did these people hand over their animal?
Answering the second question is fairly easy. The colt’s owners probably knew about Jesus and recognized the disciples. Their trust in Jesus allowed them to place the colt into the care of the Lord’s followers.
Actually, this answer solves the first question. The Lord didn’t need to borrow the colt, but He did need to give believers opportunity to be a part of the kingdom, to demonstrate trust in Him. The Lord could send ravens with food to every hungry person. Instead He asks us to give it. He helps hurting people, but also provides parents, friends, or fellow believers to advise, encourage or help them. Just as He appeared to Paul, the Lord could appear to each individual, but He asks us to teach and baptize others.
I wonder about those nameless owners of the colt. Did they stand on the wayside and joyfully wave palm branches? How grateful they must have been to have had a special part in the joy and acclamation of Palm Sunday!
May I also have the opportunity and joy of saying “yes” to You. Amen.
© 2011 V. Colclasure
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Broken
Jesus took bread, and blessed it, and brake it, and gave it to the disciples, and said, Take, eat; this is my body. Matthew 26:26b (KJV)
“Here you go,” my husband murmured, passing the communion tray to me. I thanked him and took the nestled cups; juice in the top, cracker in the bottom. The tray continued its journey down the row, and I settled back to remember our Lord’s sacrifice. I closed my eyes. The piano’s melody washed over me, and my heart welled in praise for redemption. Who was I that God had been mindful of me?
Prepared to take the elements, I pulled the cups apart to get the cracker. It fell into my hand in several tiny pieces. Annoyed that someone had crushed it, my sense of God’s presence followed the communion plate down the row. But I could not escape His voice.
“Do you not see that My body was broken?”
Tears stung my eyes as I looked at the little broken wafer in my hand. The fragments were no longer an annoyance; they represented the cruel death of my Savior. Being broken was neither convenient nor pretty. It disfigured and demanded pain—pain that would have been ours had He not taken it upon Himself.
Nibbling thankfully on each miniscule piece, I settled back to remember our Lord’s sacrifice. I closed my eyes. The piano’s melody washed over me, and my heart welled in praise for redemption. Who was I that God had been mindful of me?
Father, we cannot fathom the pain You must have felt as Your Son was broken for our sin. We are grateful that You loved us so. Open our eyes daily to see Your love, and help us to walk in that love as Your dear children.
© 2010 Katherine A. Fuller
“Here you go,” my husband murmured, passing the communion tray to me. I thanked him and took the nestled cups; juice in the top, cracker in the bottom. The tray continued its journey down the row, and I settled back to remember our Lord’s sacrifice. I closed my eyes. The piano’s melody washed over me, and my heart welled in praise for redemption. Who was I that God had been mindful of me?
Prepared to take the elements, I pulled the cups apart to get the cracker. It fell into my hand in several tiny pieces. Annoyed that someone had crushed it, my sense of God’s presence followed the communion plate down the row. But I could not escape His voice.
“Do you not see that My body was broken?”
Tears stung my eyes as I looked at the little broken wafer in my hand. The fragments were no longer an annoyance; they represented the cruel death of my Savior. Being broken was neither convenient nor pretty. It disfigured and demanded pain—pain that would have been ours had He not taken it upon Himself.
Nibbling thankfully on each miniscule piece, I settled back to remember our Lord’s sacrifice. I closed my eyes. The piano’s melody washed over me, and my heart welled in praise for redemption. Who was I that God had been mindful of me?
Father, we cannot fathom the pain You must have felt as Your Son was broken for our sin. We are grateful that You loved us so. Open our eyes daily to see Your love, and help us to walk in that love as Your dear children.
© 2010 Katherine A. Fuller
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