This Is the Way

(John 14:1-11)

Even if you’re not a Star Wars nerd, the popularity of one of its spinoffs, The Mandalorian, has already cemented its catchphrase into pop culture: This is the way. It’s a sort of catch-all code of honor among Mandalorians that is recited as if it were a religious rite, affirming an unquestioned devotion to the Mandalorian way of things. Is the mission too difficult? Is the request at odds with some other code of ethics? Does certain behavior seem unusual to those on the outside looking in? None of that matters. “This is the way,” says all that needs to be said and puts an end to any questioning or doubting. 

While it might work for a show, such a message is about as at odds with our current culture’s outlook as any message could be. In a society that celebrates the permission of each individual to pursue whatever personalized path promises happiness at any cost, about the only thing we aren’t allowed to dictate to anyone is the sentiment that there is only one right way. It is unacceptable to express the opinion that someone else has chosen the wrong way and that “this is the [right] way.” While such a phrase is a code of honor on a television show, our society says it’s about the greatest blasphemy one can commit! Instead, we celebrate that yours is the way for you and mine is the way for me and they have their way over there and we all have our own ways because our own ways – and not those dictated and enforced on us by others – offer the most personal satisfaction and happiness.

If I may make an observation, since my whole calling involves dealing with people, both inside and outside the church: I don’t see a society in general that appears to be enjoying the happiness it was expecting in being able to choose its own way. The freedom from a sense of rigidly enforced cookie-cutter norms passed down from either parents or society and replaced by the freedom of self-expression and individualization was supposed to do the trick. But it seems as if we’re the ones who’ve been tricked. In other words, it doesn’t strike me that “your way is the way” and “my way can also be the way” has resulted in the storybook bliss that was expected.

Here’s what I see. We are irate and angry – even when getting to do what we wanted! Why? Because as it turns out, it wasn’t enough for me to get my way as long as there is still anyone else who isn’t OK with my way. Then I have to have my way AND make sure everyone else is accepting of it. THEN I’ll finally be happy.

But that wasn’t the agreement (neither is it ever achievable!). We were supposed to be happy being free to be whatever we wanted and to do whatever we wanted with no strings attached. But we aren’t. So rather than pausing to step back and evaluate or reassess whether or not choosing our own individualized paths is actually the best way, we do what comes most naturally to us all: we find someone or something else to blame for our dissatisfaction. 

The comparison game that social media fosters is to blame – that’s why we’re so unhappy. Politics are so divisive – that’s why we’re so angry. The institution of marriage is so outdated – that’s why we’re divorcing. A lack of gun control is the problem – that’s why we’re shooting up schools and malls. We’re getting bullied – that’s why we’re committing suicide.

Is there some truth to each of these – yes, absolutely! That’s what makes this all so dangerous. We hide our blaming behind the tiniest kernel of truth and call it justified. Maybe instead, we ought to consider the possibility that we’ve hitched our wagon to the wrong horse of happiness and ask if there is a better way.

Of course, I could be wrong. But the research doesn’t seem to reflect that. And by research, I mean Google. A simple Google search on happiness in America reveals hit after hit reflecting in one article or another that our happiness as a country is at a low point. So if research is showing us that Americans are the unhappiest they’ve been in 50 years, maybe it’s time to rethink the ways we’ve chosen.

Let’s filter out all of the noise and try listening to the words of Jesus. He certainly grabs our attention with the first words from John 14. “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (v.1). There is something soothing about just reading and hearing those words from Jesus. Why did he speak them?

It was the night before he was going to be crucified and it was the last meal he was sharing with his disciples. He was well aware of how difficult the next 24 hours would be for them when they would see how Jesus would be treated, tortured, and crucified.

On top of that, he had just finished telling his disciples that they would betray and deny him in the process. So we understand why their hearts would be troubled!

And Jesus knows why your hearts are troubled, too. As I mentioned, there is a kernel of truth to all of the blame we place on everything else that weighs heavily on us. But those things alone don’t bear 100% of the blame. As efficient as we are at directing blame elsewhere, we can’t hide that we share some of it. We haven’t played our part perfectly as parents, spouses, friends, employees, etc., leaving us still troubled with guilt and shame. So Jesus is speaking to you as much as he was his disciples on that night when he said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled” (v.1).

To back up his words, Jesus then hit the fast-forward button to reassure his disciples by reminding them of the heavenly outcome waiting for them. Knowing that his disciples then and now cannot possibly comprehend the glories of heaven with the limitations of worldly knowledge and experiences, he opted for a relatable picture of heaven that has brought hope and comfort to countless souls ever since he first spoke the words. He promised a reservation and room in the mansion of heaven, further assuring his followers that if he was leaving to make sure all was ready for them in that place, that he would most surely return to take them there. 

Then, demonstrating their confusion, the disciples wanted Jesus to be more specific, as if he could give them the address so they could punch it into their GPS and have a clear picture of where they were going. That’s when, with words that have reassured many and revolted others, Jesus reminded them that they already knew the way. He was the way. He still is the way… and the truth, and the life.

“Jesus answered, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me’” (v.6). I wonder how Jesus’ words hit our ears today. I know many Christians find them so very comforting. There are also others who find them confusing, wondering what Jesus is actually saying with those words. And surely there are some who even find them a little off-putting. I mean, doesn’t that sound a little egocentric or narcissistic to claim that you are the way/truth/life and that no one has access to God except through you?

Well… is it egocentric or narcissistic when the medical doctor prescribes only one medication, and one that is to be taken only when and as he directs? Is it egocentric or narcissistic when the successful coach gives a player a very specific set of drills to work on to improve in one area or another? Or a music teacher shows certain techniques to improve playing ability? Or… you get the point.

In so many areas of life, we simply take the word of the expert. We don’t huff and puff that they didn’t permit us to do it the way we wanted to do it. We don’t push back because they’re being too presumptuous to assume their way is the only right way. We listen, and more often than not, when we do what they say, we find success. 

Do you know why you’ll find success when taking Jesus at his Word and believing he is the way, the truth, and the life, and the One through whom we have access to God? Because he’s already succeeded for us. Here’s why his way works: he is the one who did the work. That’s why his way is so unlike every other way.

You’re probably familiar with the description of religions being like different paths that can be taken up a mountain. The point emphasized is that although they may be different paths, they all eventually will get you to the final destination: the top of the mountain, where god supposedly is. There may be different religious writings and various versions of guides and gurus to get you there, but eventually whichever religion or path you choose will get the job done.

Jesus says otherwise – and with good reason. Christianity doesn’t presume to be just one more path up the mountain to get closer to God. Instead, it reveals a radically different take: God descended down the mountain to come to us because he knew we’d never make it up to him. Jesus left heaven to be born into this world as a real person in a real place called Bethlehem. His perfect life was real. His death by crucifixion was real. His resurrection was real. 

Therefore this truth is real: your sins are fully paid for and forgiven. All of them. So is this truth: heaven is open to all who believe it. So is this truth: there is no mountain for you to climb, no penance for you to complete, no right for you to wrong. Everything has already been finished and completed for you in Christ Jesus. This is the way. Jesus is the way.

Jesus calls us to believe this, but as if anticipating that his words might be too difficult for some, he even extends the invitation to “at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves” (v.11). Jesus welcomes doubters and skeptics and calls us to look at the proof.

Surely you know someone’s life who has been radically changed by Jesus. I’m not referring to some short-term high that comes from the quick results of a fad diet. We aren’t talking about the positive impact of a motivational speaker at some weekend getaway. This is more than the magic of some enchanted romantic relationship.

I mean people whose upside-down lives have been turned right-side up. Those whose chains of bitterness and resentment have been broken. Addictions that have been overcome. Rage and anger have been eased into a gentle calm. 

It’s not the poor examples of Jesus’ followers that nullify the way of Christianity, but the good he still lavishes on this world despite the poor examples. It’s strong marriages. Good people. Selfless neighbors. Caring teachers. Compassionate communities. That we see any of these in a sin-shattered world is evidence that God paved a better way in the life, words, and works of Jesus. So if you’re looking for life, look no further this is the way. 

Dealing with Doubt

(John 20:19-31)

Doubt is a universal struggle. We all deal with it at different times in life under different circumstances. When it comes to dealing with doubt, what have you found to be most helpful to address it?

Does it help when others provide this insightful advice: “You just have to believe.”? How about this: “Stop doubting.”? Or this one, which combines them both: “Stop doubting and believe.”? 

You might recognize that last one from John 20. Those are the words of Jesus himself.

Under the circumstances, I imagine they were pretty powerful. Thomas hadn’t been with the other disciples that first Easter Sunday when Jesus appeared to them to offer proof of his resurrection from the dead. This time, however, Thomas was present as Jesus appeared to them, providing concrete evidence to back up his words, “Stop doubting and believe.” It’s much easier to stop doubting and believe when the evidence is staring you in the face and speaking the very words to you!

But do those words carry the same weight if it’s not Jesus speaking them to you in person? They don’t, which is why telling someone who is struggling with doubt to just “stop doubting” might be about the least effective advice there is. And right up there with it is “just believe more.”

That kind of advice is not only ineffective but also a bit of an insult. It goes without saying that the person struggling with doubt knows full well that the desired outcome would be to doubt less and believe more. Yet the whole reason they’re struggling is because they can’t!

Unless we expect Jesus to show up on our doorstep and help us address our doubts in the way that he did Thomas, how do we manage them? How do we overcome them? How do we eliminate them? 

Let’s start with an essential first step: realizing that you won’t ever eliminate them. That just won’t happen. We often beat ourselves up because we think we can completely eliminate our doubts.

But no human being, no matter how strong a believer she is, no matter how self-confident he is, will ever get to the point of completely eliminating doubts from life. Once we realize that is not the goal, because it is not achievable, then we can actually make some progress. And the best verse in this whole section to help us address doubt is found at the very end in verse thirty-one. 

Before we get to that though, let’s recap the details of this account, singling out the highlights. Think of how busy Easter Sunday morning is as you consider everything that goes on at church that morning. But no matter how much effort is put into the worship and music and brunch and egg hunt and clean up, it’s nothing compared to how busy Jesus was on that first Easter Sunday.

He had one Resurrection gig after another scheduled throughout the day, appearing here, there, and everywhere, finally presenting himself to the distressed disciples who were fearfully hunkered down behind locked doors. As they were still trying to piece together the various stories and appearances and the implications of it all, Jesus himself appeared in their presence.

But Jesus was there to provide more than just his presence; he provided them with peace. And with that peace he sent them out, equipping them with the gift of the Holy Spirit to pass along that peace to others through what we call the Use of the Keys, that calling every Christian has in Jesus’ name to forgive the sins of the repentant or to withhold forgiveness from the impenitent.

“Again Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven’” (v.21-23)

There was a lot going on there! Jesus’ presence. The promise of Jesus’ peace. The tall order of being sent by Jesus. Receiving the Holy Spirit. Forgiving sins. It wasn’t just a lot to do… it was a lot to doubt.

Doubting has come naturally to mankind ever since Satan first introduced it in the Garden with his “Did God really say?” So when Jesus showed up and then basically laid out his marching orders for believers to carry out until he returns on the last day, there was more than enough to doubt. Especially for a group that had deserted and denied Jesus in his moment of greatest need!

“Are we really at peace, after our shameful behavior?” Are you seriously sending this group?” “Do we really have the Holy Spirit – where is the proof?” “You’re counting on us to be able to forgive others’ sins when we’re guilty of more sins ourselves than we could ever count?”

There was so much room for doubt! And to make matters worse for Thomas, he wasn’t even there! In hindsight, we shouldn’t be so shocked that he ever doubted; it would have been more shocking if he had believed all of it without any doubt whatsoever! 

But Jesus is patient. And not just with those we might reasonably expect him to be patient (those we might think of as having earned it because they are pretty strong, spiritually speaking). No, Jesus is patient with everyone who doubts. Even the Thomases.  

Notice that Jesus didn’t come to take Thomas to task (just as he didn’t scold Mary at the tomb on Easter). He didn’t show up a week later to embarrass Thomas, but to encourage him; to strengthen him.

Too often we view Jesus as the drill sergeant who is most interested in shaping us up. Behave! Obey! Get it right! Don’t mess up again! That wasn’t Jesus’ message to Thomas, though.

“Then Jesus told him, ‘Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed’” (v.29).

With these words, Jesus was not only reassuring Thomas, but also sharing a powerful truth that all of the disciples would need to hear and bear in mind as they began to carry out the mission he was sending them on. They were dealing with spiritual matters, with matters of faith, with things unseen which are the Holy Spirit’s work.

Jesus was telling them the Word he was sending them with was powerful enough to create faith and belief even in those who would never lay physical eyes on the resurrected Jesus. So Jesus wasn’t just showing patience with Thomas, but really all of the disciples. 

That same Jesus is every bit as patient with you. Your doubt doesn’t disqualify you from Christ’s Kingdom. In fact, since there is nothing that can qualify you for Christ’s Kingdom, then it stands to reason that nothing can disqualify you. Jesus doesn’t welcome us into his kingdom based on some scale of how weighty our faith is or rule us out of his kingdom based on the degree of doubt we drum up.

He welcomes us into his kingdom despite our doubts. He welcomes us to dispel our doubts as he strengthens our faith. He welcomes us by his grace, through his Spirit, on account of his work. His. His. His. And that is why his kingdom is yours. 

With full confidence in his grace, so clearly displayed on Good Friday’s cross and evidenced again via the vacant tomb on Easter Sunday, our place in Christ’s Kingdom is secured. Through our faith in his saving work, it is ours. And as those who belong, we long to believe with a faith that grows even firmer, a faith that is so strongly rooted in the soil of Christ’s saving work that it leaves less room for weeds of doubt to pop up. For those craving that kind of conviction and confidence of faith, let’s finally dig into verse 31.

“But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (v.31). In addition to the resurrection account covered in the verses from John 20, John’s Gospel had previously spent 19 chapters recording many of the words and works of Jesus that aren’t covered in the other Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke (referred to as the synoptic Gospels, as they cover many of the same accounts). Now, as he concludes his Gospel, he explains his intent behind all of it: so that you may believe and have life. Believe and live. 

If we are serious about wanting to manage our doubts and overcome them as they arise, then here it is again. Exactly what Jesus directed Thomas to do: stop doubting and believe.

What is different this time around? Remember, we don’t have Jesus himself speaking the words to us right in front of us as Thomas did. But we have something that Jesus guarantees is every bit as powerful: His Word, the Bible – powerful because his Word is nothing more than his words recorded for us. 

See how John wrote it? “These are written that you may believe… and that by believing you may have life in his name” (v.31). Written. Believe. Written. Believe. See any connection there? It’s all right in the Bible. Literally. There isn’t some secret passage to uncover that will serve as a silver bullet.

If that’s been your approach to Scripture, then you’ve been misled or doing it wrong. The Bible isn’t a textbook for finding the answer to pass the test. It is life. It is faith-fortifying. It is doubt-destroying. It is belief-building. 

But not merely by being written. It has to be read. By God’s grace, you’re familiar enough with it for faith in Jesus to have been formed. But God doesn’t shift gears and point us to some other method for growing our faith that is different from how he brought us to faith. It’s the same thing.

The written Word. When read. When studied. When pondered. When personalized. When lived and breathed. When loved. When we become more and more wrapped up in this written Word, the Holy Spirit sees to it that faith flourishes.

And where faith is flourishing, Satan isn’t as inclined to sow his seeds of doubt, for he knows they are less likely to take root. Instead, he will reinforce the doubts of those already clouded in unbelief and focus his attention on believers who are too busy for the Word and preoccupied with the world. And who can blame him?!? His rate of success is much higher where faith is fizzling, and faith is fizzling where the written Word is not read. 

So will this Easter turn out the same as previous ones? Same service, give or take? Same nice brunch? Same nice meal with the family? Same baskets and eggs and candy? Same doubts?

Or will it be different? Will you read the Word that has been written so that, like Thomas, you may stop doubting and believe? 

Hope Restored

(Luke 24:13-35)

When is the last time you were disappointed that something didn’t turn out the way you had hoped? Was it something you initiated or coordinated, an event or small get-together that took a good amount of planning and purchasing to pull off, but for one reason or another, it fell short? Was it something that didn’t involve you at all in terms of planning, but was something you were looking forward to attending or participating in and it just missed the mark?

We can also experience a sense of hopelessness in other areas of life. How do you know when you’ve lost hope, when your situation seems hopeless? A recent devotion pointed to the word “never” as an indicator. When “never” makes its way into our thinking and speaking in one area of life or another, that’s when we’ve lost hope. “I’m never going to … get a job / get better / get married / get out of debt / change / etc.” When we use the word never, it’s an expression of a loss of hope in being able to see how things will change for the better. 

How we got to that point of losing hope (two reasons will be explored in this post) matters less than what we do once we’re there. Where do we go from that point? How is hope restored? Let Jesus shows us as he restores hope to two hopeless disciples on the first Easter. 

Jesus joined the two disciples as they were heading toward a village outside of Jerusalem called Emmaus. Though Jesus kept them from initially recognizing him, he wasn’t kept from recognizing something about them: they had lost hope. They were discussing all the things that had just happened in Jerusalem, and when Jesus asked for more clarification, “They stood still, their faces downcast.” (v.17). They were visibly dejected and downhearted!

They explained why. “Jesus of Nazareth… was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel” (v.19-21). While they didn’t use the word “never,” they might as well have! The natural conclusion they had drawn was that Jesus could never redeem them now. They had hoped he was going to be the one to redeem Israel, but since he had been sentenced to death and crucified, that was obviously never going to happen. That was their thinking. They had lost hope. They were at a dead end. They couldn’t see how a dead Jesus could redeem Israel. 

Somewhat ironic, isn’t it, given that it was by his death that he did just that – redeemed Israel, and all people? “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us, for it is written: ‘Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole’” (Galatians 3:13). The same event they presumed had kept Jesus from being able to redeem was the very act by which he carried out redemption. Jesus’ death was the payment he offered up to buy back – to redeem – souls otherwise condemned to hell because of sin.

The source of their hopelessness then – Jesus’ death – should in fact have been their source of hope! “For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect” (1 Peter 1:18-19). Nevertheless, rather than being filled with hope, their hearts were emptied of it.

The thinking of the Emmaus disciples illustrates two of the reasons we often lose hope. The first happens when we start with the wrong expectation on our end. Why were the disciples so disappointed? Why so let down? Why so hopeless? Because they started with a faulty expectation! Their expectation for redemption and God’s promise of deliverance was too narrow-focused and worldly.

Jewish history emphasized and celebrated how God had delivered – redeemed – his people from the earthly oppression of a worldly leader when God delivered the Israelites from Pharaoh’s slavery in Egypt. The remembrance of that event was so woven into their culture that their expectation came to be a similar deliverance from earthly oppression. They anticipated Jesus would be the modern-day Moses who would deliver them from Roman rule. Of course the Emmaus disciples would be hopelessly disappointed if that was the expectation they had of why Jesus had come! They started with the wrong expectation.

Isn’t that often the cause of our own hopelessness? We start off with the wrong expectation. For example, when we begin with the expectation that God’s greatest concern in our lives is our happiness, then we are disappointed when God allows something on our plate that doesn’t make us happy at all. Or, we end up sidestepping Scripture in pursuit of personal happiness. But your happiness isn’t God’s greatest concern in this life; your holiness is, which is why he sent Jesus to secure it.

Another wrong expectation that we can hold is the expectation that God grants believers special dispensation from suffering or hardship in life. As believers, we expect that God must give us a pass on such things. When life unravels then, we feel hopelessly let down by God. But it was our faulty expectation that was the cause. 

The second reason we often lose hope? We give up because of too low an expectation on God’s end. The two disciples made a point of explaining two things: 1) it had been three days since Jesus had died, and 2) multiple visitors had confirmed that there was no body in the tomb.

To us in the present day, who have the full benefit of all of the revelation of Scripture, three days and no body are simply more proof of the Resurrection. But to the disciples, as we can sense from the tone of their words, these realities didn’t make them more optimistic, but instead deflated them even more. We can interpret their reference to three days as an expectation that surely if God was going to do something, it would have happened within that timeframe, but as each day passed, it only became more hopeless.

And no body in the tomb? Well, without anyone actually laying eyes on Jesus, there was still no reason (outside of Scripture and a fully-grasping faith along with it!) to equate an empty tomb with a risen and alive Jesus. Instead of providing more clarity, it just added to the confusion and hopelessness. The disciples were ready to give up because of too low an expectation on God’s end. 

Again, we can relate. While there’s a good reason your financial advisor will remind you that past performance of an investment is no guarantee of future results, we do not need the same caution when it comes to God’s promises. In other words, we don’t have any reason to conclude that simply because God chose not to act in one way in the past, he will do the same in the future.

“The last time a loved one battled cancer, I prayed persistently that God would heal them. Since he didn’t, why should I pray for the same thing this time around?” “We have a record of all of God’s divine interventions in the Bible, but since he doesn’t seem to intervene that way in the lives of believers today, why bother expecting that he will?” Even though our faith may acknowledge that God can do this or that, our faith doesn’t take the next step in bold confidence that God will do this or that. So we give up because of too low an expectation on God’s end.  

Now what does God do for those without hope? Whether hopelessness stems from starting with the wrong expectation on our end or because we give up due to too low an expectation on God’s end, God has the same solution. He does for us exactly what he did to the hopeless disciples heading to Emmaus: he comes right alongside us in the midst of our hopelessness.

He does not wait for us to generate some internal hope first, to work in ourselves some semblance of optimism or positive thinking. No, he walks right up alongside us in the midst of our hopelessness to restore our hope.

Here’s what I love about Jesus’ encounter with the disciples. When all was said and done, as they reflected on the direct divine intervention they had with Jesus, what was it that stood out most? “They said to each other, ‘Weren’t our hearts burning within us while he was talking with us on the road and explaining the Scriptures to us?’” (v. 32). Their hearts were burning not just at being in Jesus’ presence, but in his “explaining the Scriptures” to them! That’s what fired them up! That was what churned a passion inside of them! It was a deeper understanding of the Word, as explained to them personally by the Word himself, Jesus!

The disciples eventually realized they were walking along the road with and in the presence of the risen Jesus! Jesus himself walked and talked with them, and they even ate a meal together with him, but what stood out most about their time with him was how much clearer he made the Bible for them! 

You know where I’m going with this, don’t you? We have the exact same Scriptures – and even more Scriptures than they had – accessible to us in more ways than anyone could ever have imagined it. Yet, when is the last time you’d describe your use of any of these opportunities to be in the Word as your heart burning within you? Has it been a while? Has it been… ever? What’s the deal? What’s wrong with us? What are we missing? Why are we consistently convincing ourselves that something else is a more valuable use of our time than being in the Word so that he can restore our hope through it?

After all, didn’t it seem like the Emmaus disciples’ hope was restored after Jesus opened the Scriptures to them? Luke tells us they got up and returned “at once” (v.33) to tell the others about their experience. They didn’t call it a night and decide to tell them in the morning. They couldn’t wait! Why? Their hope was restored.

Why shouldn’t you think God will do the same for you through his Word? The Bible is where the whole foundation of hope is laid out for us, one that is based on the assurance that our sins have been paid for and forgiven. We give Jesus every reason to address us as he did the Emmaus disciples: “How foolish you are, and how slow to believe all that the prophets have spoken! (v.25).

But instead, he calls us heirs, children, chosen, treasured, beloved, saints, etc.! In the Bible, he lays out promise after promise that is about far more than just the heaven stuff waiting for us one day, but for the hopeless stuff we face on a daily basis in the meantime. When the world rips away our hope, the Word restores it. Jesus’ resurrection restores it. Hope isn’t dead because Jesus isn’t! “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:3-4). Our hope in Jesus is very much alive because Jesus is very much alive!

The Conquering King Lives! (Easter)

(John 20:1-18)

It should not have come to this. From a human perspective, Jesus did nothing wrong. He deserved none of what he received last week. Knowing his enemies were plotting his demise, he should have at least been able to trust and count on his own disciples.

Yet it was one of his own disciples that set in motion the tragic events that unfolded on Thursday and Friday of the week he died! Well, at least he might be able to depend on his most assertive disciple to rally a small group to attempt a small-scale rescue… but instead even that disciple denied him.

Then, when standing trial before the religious leaders, someone ought to have stood up and pointed out the obvious corruption and unfairness with which Jesus was being treated. More than anyone else, they were supposed to be the moral compass of society. And then Pilate – of all people the one with the most power to put an end to the injustice being carried out, which he himself attested to – caved and catered to the crowds to crucify Jesus! None of it should have happened.

What is on your plate in life right now that should not have happened the way it did? I can imagine there are all sorts of responses to that question swimming around in your heads right now…

Whatever it is, why do you suppose it played out that way? What caused it? In some cases we are on the receiving end of tragedy or trauma that is completely outside of our control. Sometimes that can be completely accidental; other times completely intentional. Evil or wickedness took place and it was carried out against us. A natural disaster. A negligent driver. A malicious criminal. Such things are outside of our control, but can directly impact us, leaving us reeling unexpectedly from something that should never have happened to us.

Other times things happened that should not have… because of a role that we played. Perhaps a direct result of our own actions – or lack of action. Suddenly the spouse I saw myself spending the rest of my life with has become public enemy number one. And, as much as I might try to plead innocence – to myself even if no one else will listen! – I can’t deny that I played a part.

I feel like I’m merely the victim on the wrong side of office politics, but it’s clear to others how tangled up in all of it I actually was, even if I don’t see it myself.

I wonder why my kids’ lives are turning out to be such a mess, and I’m faced with the realization that their childhoods were too often littered with my leftovers and the lost “laters” of my misplaced priorities.

So here we are, dealing with whatever is on our plate that wasn’t supposed to happen the way that it did. 

Come with me to a place where a number of events also took place that never should have happened. You know what else should not have happened the way it did? Any of what is recorded for us in the opening verses of John 20. That shouldn’t have happened, either.

Not just because Jesus shouldn’t have died in the first place, but Jesus’ tomb should have had zero visitors that first Sunday morning. There shouldn’t have been any women showing up with spices expecting to carry on Jewish burial rites. There need not have been any sprinting back and forth between the tomb and disciples expressing shock and confusion over a missing body.

None of that should have happened either, between the Old Testament’s teachings about the Messiah’s reign never ending and Job’s confession that his Redeemer lived, and Jesus’ own words that promised he would rise again. None of it should have happened – from Jesus’ suffering and death to the initial disciples’ dismay over his empty tomb!

Look at Mary. Mary could relate to the devastation of things that shouldn’t have happened the way they did. She just wanted her Jesus, but was distraught over not even being able to honor her Lord properly in his burial because she was convinced someone else had done something with the body.

But at her lowest low, Jesus appeared to her, and he didn’t do so to shame her. He didn’t show up to take her to task for not knowing that he was going to rise from the dead. He didn’t angrily scold her with a questioning rebuke, “What on earth are you doing here at the tomb? Why didn’t any of you listen when I told you I wouldn’t stay dead but would rise again in three days? How could you be so dumb?”

None of that from gentle Jesus. Instead, Jesus tenderly revealed himself to her as much more than the gardener; as her Savior God who had come back to life. He softly spoke her name and God’s divine hand removed whatever veil it was keeping Jesus’ identity a mystery and she suddenly saw him – not just with her eyes but with a heart exploding in faith that had just what was needed at that time: her risen Savior.

Alive. With her. Caring for her. Of all the people on the earth to show himself to, at that moment so soon after his Resurrection, he came to Mary. And despite everything that shouldn’t have happened, everything was suddenly right. 

Jesus lives to give you the same confident hope. Hear the blessings attached to faith in the risen Jesus: “righteousness” (Ro. 4:23), “new life” (Ro. 6:4), “bear[ing] fruit for God” (Ro. 7:4), “be saved” (Ro. 10:9), “he will raise us also” (1 Co. 6:14). Jesus holds out these blessings to you and to all who believe he has left death in his dust, destroying its stranglehold on us. 

Do you get why Mary was so elated to see her risen Jesus? Though she didn’t have these Scriptures we do to spell out these realities of the Resurrection, she knew them by faith. She knew that death had not permanently claimed her Christ, so neither could it – or Satan – permanently claim her either. Her risen Jesus meant that whatever shouldn’t have happened or should have happened no longer mattered. All that mattered was the present reality of a very much alive Jesus.

“Should have” and “shouldn’t have” too often cloud our lives. We let past regret cause present regression. We thought we were over it. We thought we had moved past it. But then Satan, never one to see the need for being innovative or cutting edge when it comes to nagging God’s people, resorts to the tried and true. He whispers in our ears ever-so-softly, “Remember how you mishandled that in a way you shouldn’t have? I bet things wouldn’t be the way they are right now if you would have handled that differently.” And seemingly out of nowhere, this thing that perhaps hadn’t bothered us for years suddenly sidetracks us and whatever positive path of trajectory we were on has been hijacked and we start to backslide. 

When those moments hit you, notice something about the account from John 20. Look where Mary and the others did not go to. They didn’t return go to the cross. Why not? Duh, you say, because Jesus had already been crucified on Friday. He was no longer on the cross anymore. That’s why they went to the tomb.

Exactly. Jesus was no longer on the cross. He had already been crucified. That means your sin has already been paid for. That means every should have and shouldn’t have has already been paid for. On Easter Sunday, they didn’t find Jesus still at Calvary on the cross continuing to pay for their sins. He had already completed that sacrificial work, emphasizing it with finality through his “It is finished,” spoken from the cross. There was no more need to return to the cross. Just as there is no more need to revisit every should have and shouldn’t have from your past. They’ve already been paid for. 

But it gets better. Not only was Jesus not on the cross still suffering for sin; he wasn’t in the tomb, either! John’s narrative of what happened on that first morning seems to gradually crescendo our confidence bit by bit. Mary arrives to see the stone rolled away, but there is not any initial further inspection. 

What exactly did the empty tomb mean? He lived and lives, yes, but don’t let it be lost on you what that means! It means that his payment for your sin and mine was accepted by the Father! It meant there was no need for do-overs or for you to somehow complete what Jesus started on Good Friday with your own piled-on penance or some other satisfaction that you imagine God still needing. As it turns out, Jesus’ payment was sufficient – he wasn’t on the cross or in the tomb! And having assured her of his resurrection by personally appearing to her, he then sent her to spread the word. And she did just that.

Let’s do the same. Our Conquering King Lives! It shouldn’t have come to this, but your eternity is secure because it did. 

The Conquering King Dies (Good Friday)

(John 19:17-30)

The Conquering King Arrived on the scene as he entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday of this Holy Week. The Conquering King Dined with his disciples on Thursday of Holy Week, the night he was betrayed, raising the bar on the Passover Meal by adding his very body and blood to the menu of Holy Communion for the forgiveness of sins. On the Holy Day we call Good Friday, the ultimate sacrifice was made to pay the necessary price for our sin as our Conquering King Dies.

It’s not like the movies. On the rare occasions when the hero dies, at least he does so in some glorious fashion to ensure a victory for the good guys. But as you read the verses of John’s accounting of our Savior’s death, there was nothing glorious about it, at least humanly speaking. There was nothing glorious about being crucified!

Note how many times the word “crucified” is mentioned by John in these verses. Lest anyone miss it, make no mistake, this was a death sentence being carried out. The cross served no other purpose. Crucifixion was no mere slap on the wrist to discourage future bad behavior. This was a death sentence. The Conquering King came to die and to leave no doubts whatsoever about his death by crucifixion, which was not only one of the most excruciating ways ever devised for a person to die but also one of the most humiliating and shameful. 

Nevertheless, as God’s divine wrath was being carried out against sin through this death, God’s divine hand was also weaving his will throughout the events of that day.

God used the same Pilate who had pandered to the crowds allowing Jesus’ crucifixion to finally dig in his heels and insist that the divine description of Jesus as King remain affixed to the cross. How little did he know how accurate it was!

God used the selfish soldiers to fulfill the Scriptures by caring more about Christ’s clothes than about his crucifixion. Then, after selflessly making sure to provide for his mother’s life while his own life slipped away, Jesus made sure every prophecy was carried out in full with his expression of thirst.

Finally, John records the gut-wrenching final details for us: “Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’ With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (v.30). 

Did you catch the subtle nuance that details the difference between victory and defeat for our Conquering King? John rightly described that Jesus’ life was not taken from him; rather, he gave up his spirit.

Yes, Jesus died, but not because the soldiers or even Satan himself had succeeded in killing him! Jesus’ death came because he gave up his life. Our Conquering King died willingly only when he was ready to die and only because he was willing to die. 

But let us also consider why Jesus was willing to die. On the one hand, it is the simplest explanation – so simple in fact that even a child can answer the question, “Why did Jesus have to die?” “To pay for our sins,” they would answer.

And they would be right! It is unmistakably clear in Scripture that Jesus has to die to pay for our sins. Time and again, dating all the way back to the very first sin, through scores of slaughtered sheep, spelled out in the sacred psalms, and spoken by the Savior himself, sin required payment. Your sin. My sin. Every sin. And on Good Friday, Jesus died to make that payment. So yes, he died for our sins. 

But do we fully grasp the magnitude of that payment for our sins? Do we realize not just the eternal implications of that payment, but also the current implications, the “today” implications? Yes, Jesus died for our sins and this changes everything. But this changes everything right here and now in our lives.

Jesus dying to pay for my sins is just the beginning. Good Friday was just one day, but what happened on it changed my every day. Every. Single. Day. Here are the two things that have changed for us every day: 1) He died for us so that we live for him and 2) He died for us so that we live with him. 

He died for us so that we live for him. This is one way the Bible describes the impact of Jesus’ death on Good Friday: “And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again” (2 Corinthians 5:15). I hope I didn’t ruin things there with a spoiler alert of what we celebrate three days after Good Friday on Easter Sunday, but yes, Jesus didn’t stay dead. That means we don’t need to stay dead either, living empty lives void of any meaning or purpose! We are spiritually alive, and that means we live not for self, but for the Savior.

Are you still living your life as if the pursuit of self-interest is really what it’s all about? Do you still imagine that living for self is the most fulfilling path you’ll ever find in this life? Do relationships and people merely serve to advance your own agenda so that if others do not provide any advantage to you, you have no interest in them? Is your career nothing more than the best thing going for you to make a name and reputation for yourself to win the attention of others? Do you get impatient when others try to infringe on the 24 hours of each day as if they belong to you alone and no one else? Are you still believing the lie that if you just remain dialed in enough on this path of self-interest, eventually there is a point up ahead where you’ll finally get what you were after?

Then, friend, you’re missing out on why the Conquering King died for you. He died to free you from that meaningless pursuit of self-interest so that you could serve a much deeper purpose: his. To live for him is to see how he has turned your life inside out. To live for him is to see relationships and people as opportunities to make a difference that matters, as people to love and help and serve and impact in ways that both benefit them and light a fire in you when you see the difference it makes. Your career is just another opportunity to do that very thing full-time, as you give your best for your boss and your company and your co-workers, not because of what’s in it for you, but because it’s just another way to live for Him. The hours of each day represent the time God has gifted to you to meet the needs of others for the greater good of your family, your community, and the world by not simply consuming like so many in the world do, but by contributing. By making a difference. By living for the One who died for you.

You are free to live for him because your eternity is backed by his promise that you will also live with him. See another way the Bible describes the impact of Jesus’ death on Good Friday: “He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him” (1 Thes. 5:10). Which part of that strikes you more? The promise is all-encompassing, isn’t it? Yet we tend to see its application as only having bearing once we fall asleep – once we die as believers. But there’s more to it than that! Right now, because he died, we live with him. Right now he is with us. Right now we live with him – not just when we die. 

Do you know what it’s like to be in his presence? I mean really? When you think of being in God’s presence, is church the only thing that comes to mind? Is a building the only place, the only space that you imagine being in God’s presence? Paul didn’t write that Jesus died for us so that when we are “in church” we may live together with him, but no matter where we live and breathe. Yes, surely God is present in church, where Word and Sacrament are dispensed, but not only there. Far from it!

We live together with him as our hearts beat in rhythm with his steady promises of peace in him. We live together with him as his Spirit prompts our prayers of thanks and gratitude whenever we pause and stand in awe of how good he is to us. We live together with him when we rise up every morning and yearn for his presence as we start off the day listening to him speak to us through his Word. We live together with him when we connect the dots throughout the day between his powerful Word and the myriad applications of it in our own lives and the lives of others. We live together with him, not surprisingly, when we also live for him. 

So yes, your Conquering King died for you, but do not miss the implications of his death on your life. He died so that you might really live. He died so that forgiven means no longer forsaken. Forgiven means the freedom to live. Today. Tomorrow. For the rest of this month, this year, your life, to the full. Your Conquering King Died so that you can live for him and with him now and forever.

The Conquering King Dines (Holy Thursday)

(1 Corinthians 11:23-28)

We rightfully make a big deal of “last” meals. When close friends move away, we cherish the opportunity to enjoy one last nice meal together until we meet again. Before we send the kid off to college, the last meal together is a special one.

Perhaps it isn’t so unordinary that we should find our Conquering King dining the night before his death. After all, even those sentenced to death today are generally offered a last meal request before they die. 

But this was no ordinary meal. This was yet one more opportunity for Jesus to play the host – always the one to serve others rather than be served. On Holy Thursday (also known as Maundy Thursday), we remember with gratitude our Savior’s final meal and how through it he still feeds us today. When our Conquering King Dines with his own, he provides the menu and the means to feed us exactly what we need.

We can be quite certain of the menu spread out on the table that evening, since we know the meal they were celebrating. It was the Passover. Ever since the time the Lord had delivered his people from slavery in Egypt, he had established a special meal that was intended to serve two purposes.

One, it would serve as a vivid memory of the first Passover, during which the angel of the Lord passed over every Israelite home with lamb’s blood brushed around its doorposts, sparing the firstborn child.

Two, it would serve to foreshadow the blood of the Lamb of God who would take away the sin of the world, the promised Messiah, Jesus. The meal itself involved certain food and drink that held special symbolic meaning, as well as an established pattern of prayer and dialogue. Two of the items at that meal, which we are more familiar with than the others because of their present-day association with our Holy Communion, were unleavened bread (which simply means it didn’t have yeast in it) and wine.

But on that night Jesus forever improved the menu. Why? The primary reason was that the meaning and significance of the Passover itself was being amplified and fulfilled. God’s deliverance of his people from Egypt was itself a foreshadowing of the greater deliverance the Messiah came to bring: deliverance from hell.

How would Jesus secure this deliverance? Not by brushing lamb’s blood on any doorpost, but by shedding his own blood on the cross – blood that sufficiently paid the price for all sin. It is that very blood of Jesus he offers us in this special meal. And more than that – Jesus also offers his very body.

Why should it matter what one believes about this meal? For starters, Paul thought it was important enough to pass along to believers, given that he had received this instruction from the Lord himself. Paul, therefore, is not simply sharing his preferences or opinions on the matter, but the very guidance of God.

And let’s be clear on his method of instruction, which is the same manner by which Jesus first instructed his disciples. Neither Paul nor Jesus used fable nor parable nor illustration to teach and instruct, but rather plain, straightforward language, to be as clear as possible and to limit anyone missing the point. 

Paul, as Jesus was, is specific. First, he leaves no question as to when Jesus instituted this meal – “on the night he was betrayed” (v.23), which we know is the Thursday of Holy Week when the traitor Judas betrayed our Conquering King with a kiss. We also know also that Jesus instituted this meal as they were celebrating the Passover.

And Paul speaks of four substances being present for this special meal: bread, wine, body, and blood. No other substances are included in his instruction, neither are any of these four excluded in the Gospels and Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, which are the only sections of Scripture in which this instruction takes place. So there is a precision and unmistakable clarity with which Paul writes. In this sacrament, bread and wine are given and received, as are body and blood.

How can that be, we ask? Indeed, many are so quick to let their reason save the day and change the words of Jesus and Paul so that there is no body or blood present, but merely the bread and wine symbolizing Jesus’ body and blood.

But nowhere did Jesus say that. Nowhere did Paul say that. Friends, if we begin to allow reason to serve as the filter by which we vet the Scriptures, then how much else must we discard? All of Jesus’ miracles? The Lord God’s spectacular showings of strength against the world’s almighty armies and even nature itself?

If reason is required to make sense of this Sacrament, then the door has creaked open to sift all of the supernatural in Scripture. But if we can permit God to remain God and allow our reason to be subject to his very words, then we don’t need to make Jesus or Paul out to be liars. Then, we can actually receive the very things offered, the body and blood of Jesus, in, with, and under the bread and wine.

And when we have that on the menu, Jesus declares that we also have what he attached to it in Matthew 26: the forgiveness of sins. Talk about the greatest menu change in the history of any meal ever eaten! Sure, there was obviously deep spiritual significance attached to the Passover meal, otherwise the Lord would not have directed his people to celebrate it every year for generations. It was a meal of remembrance that helped to ensure God’s people would never forget that he is in the business of delivering. 

But now this meal, the one Jesus instituted, would offer so much more! Weary and worn-out sinners come to this meal and their souls receive rest and refreshment. Contrite consciences receive the very stuff the Savior sacrificed – his body and blood – so that nothing is lost in translation and no lingering doubts can keep those consciences from being cleansed. The penitent receive pardon and peace. The guilty are guaranteed forgiveness. 

The menu at this meal is the means by which a gracious and compassionate God wants to restore and sanctify his people. And he does. So it does not surprise me anymore to see tears shed by the homebound who are unable to gather for worship when they receive this meal. They know full well their Savior comes to them personally with his good gifts of grace and mercy, feeding their souls and freeing their consciences. 

So we return to the table again and again where our Conquering King Dines with us as often as we join him, giving us himself. And as we receive him, we remember his deliverance and we proclaim his death. Because Jesus’ Last Will and Testament in this Supper is also our will and testament as we remember and proclaim, we take seriously Paul’s directive to examine ourselves. We acknowledge and confess our sins and our need for the forgiveness Jesus feeds us. We trust that we have in this Supper exactly what Jesus offers and promises: bread and wine, body and blood, given for the forgiveness of sins. 

Then, in that newness of life, we are drawn into an even deeper relationship with our Savior, our Conquering King. He not only arrived at Jerusalem to offer the ultimate sacrifice – himself – on the cross, but he also dines with us in this Sacred Meal to confer on us the blessed food of forgiveness. 

The Conquering King Arrives

(Matthew 21:1-11)

Sometimes we can be so focused on staying on top of all the details of having a guest arrive and stay with us that we forget to enjoy why they’re even visiting in the first place. Different guests can lead to different distractions or matters on which we focus. When in-laws visit, for example, we might be so fixated on making sure that nothing goes wrong so there is nothing to criticize. If it’s a friend that we’re excited about doing a bunch of activities with, then the focus is on making sure all of those activities are lined up and ready to go. In such cases, the time can come and go so quickly that after the fact we realize it was such a whirlwind that we didn’t really even get to enjoy their company or appreciate why they visited in the first place. 

Let’s be careful to avoid making that mistake during Holy Week as we reflect on Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem. Let’s be deliberate about taking the time to appreciate why he arrived in the first place.

As is the tradition in many of our congregations, during the season of Lent we have midweek services that typically draw out the events of Holy Week and spread out their focus over the five weeks after Ash Wednesday. Those five weeks generally cover what happens over the course of this one week, Holy Week, from Palm Sunday until Good Friday.

This week then, we take a very focused look at Jesus’ journey and how it changed from the cheers at his entry into Jerusalem to the jeers of the crowds and criminals at his cross. And as we follow Jesus once again, we see him as the prophet Zechariah did – as our King. More than that – he is our Conquering King, and on this day we celebrate the Arrival of our Conquering King.

Are you surprised to see our Conquering King be so concerned about the details of his entry into Jerusalem? Was this the standard operating procedure as Jesus entered a new city or town? Did he always send his disciples (always the same two?) ahead of him to make sure everything was just right before coming to town? Was Jesus like the celebrity or performer who has a very specific list of standard requirements for travel or accommodations? Did things have to be a certain way before he would arrive on the scene or did he ever just waltz into town quietly and unassumingly? 

This was different. Jerusalem was not just another stop on his tour of preaching his message and performing his miracles. This was the destination. This was where he came to die. It sounds so morbid to state it like that, doesn’t it? He came to Jerusalem to die. 

We don’t like to be faced with the blunt reality of death. We don’t like to know we’re at the point where death is so quickly approaching that we must make arrangements for it. We need to prepare for it as we anticipate death creeping and lurking nearer and nearer. And it’s one thing to have to handle such responsibilities for ourselves (which most of us are OK neglecting or putting off until “someday” that so often arrives finding us ill-prepared), but it is another thing to be the one tasked with carrying out those responsibilities on behalf of someone else.

Though they were unlikely aware of it, that was precisely what the two disciples Jesus sent were doing – making arrangements for his death. 

Given the circumstances then, it isn’t a surprise that Jesus made such detailed arrangements to enter Jerusalem to die. Much is made of the manner by which Jesus entered Jerusalem. We draw attention to the donkey and the humility it symbolizes (and a borrowed one, no less – Jesus didn’t even own his own ride!). This is certainly in keeping with Jesus, who is literally the perfect embodiment of humility, as described in Philippians 2.

It has also been pointed out that in those days when a king paraded on a donkey, as opposed to a decorated war horse, there was a good reason. It was to communicate that they were not at war with anyone, but were enjoying a time of peace. These are valid truths and considerations as we see our Conquering King Arrive.

But we don’t want to overlook the simplest explanation of all for Jesus entering Jerusalem atop a donkey: he had to. As Matthew explains, the prophet Zechariah foretold it would happen that way, and so it had to. “This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet: ‘Say to Zion, “See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey’” (Mt. 21:4-5). With this prophecy, the prophet Zechariah added his own brushstroke to God’s Old Testament canvas whereby he was prophetically painting a picture so that believers awaiting the Messiah would know what to look for. So, since Zechariah described his Jerusalem entry this way, it had to be this way. 

What kind of king, after all, doesn’t deliver on his promises? A king or authority that makes promises while vying for a position or trying to get elected into power who then goes back on those promises or leaves them unkept is not likely to remain in that position very long. The confidence of his people will dwindle and along with it, so will his power. He must hold himself to what he claimed he would do. That is expected of anyone in a position of authority. 

As far as Jesus is concerned, consider the damage that would have been done if he had not carried out all that was foretold of him. What would that have done to the credibility of his message? Which of his words were to be trusted? To not do what the prophets and what he himself said he would do would have completely undermined his preaching. And if his message could not be trusted, then his actions would have been brought into question. The cross would have been emptied of its power and the empty tomb rendered insignificant. Jesus’ words had to be backed up by his actions so that his actions could give power to his words. So he arrived just as Zechariah said he would.

And when he did, as foggy as the crowds were on the implications of his arrival, they knew who he was. “The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted, ‘Hosanna to the Son of David!’ ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’ ‘Hosanna in the highest heaven!’” (v.9). The designation Son of David was not one thrown around lightly – it was a title reserved for the Messiah. “Hosanna” meant “save us!”, so the word was being spread around that the man riding atop the donkey was in fact the One God had promised to deliver his people. 

What appears to be quite clear over the course of this most holy of weeks in the church year is that the crowds were quite unaware of how God would deliver his people through this Messiah. The lack of a crown or scepter or any sort of armed guard or soldiers accompanying Jesus was not at this point a cause for concern. The people of Jerusalem were used to revolts and rebellions. Others had pushed back against Roman rule and oppression, so it wouldn’t have been strange at all to see Jesus follow that same path of uprising and opposition on his way to the throne.

But they most assuredly didn’t expect the remainder of the week after Jesus’ arrival to play out as it did. Throughout history, kingdoms and the kings who ruled over them asserted themselves by some show of force. They wielded weapons to shed the blood of all enemies in their path. They destroyed the opposition and eliminated any and all threats. They struck fear into those they defeated and ruled with might.

This Conquering King, however, came to establish an unparalleled kingdom that would never end. And he did it in a radically different way.

He wouldn’t do it by asserting himself, but rather by offering himself. He wouldn’t do it by a show of force, but through what appeared to be a disgraceful display of weakness. He wouldn’t do it by spilling the blood of his enemies, but by spilling his own blood. This Conquering King did not rise up to some elevated throne in a worthy palace, but was instead raised up on a cross flanked by criminals.

Apparently, those realities did not measure up to the expectations of many in the crowds as Jesus entered Jerusalem. By the end of the week, it was no longer a welcome party receiving Jesus, but a vicious mob calling for his head. Jesus did not fit the description of the kind of conquering king they anticipated and demanded. So instead of the week concluding with a grand coronation, it ended with a gruesome crucifixion.

It is a good time to reevaluate our relationship with this King this time of year. Is he the kind of Conquering King you want to rule over you? Or did you – do you – sometimes feel as if he is a letdown? Did you have higher hopes that he’d address and fix more of your first-world problems? Do you find yourself too busy for him because he doesn’t seem to be doing too much for you in the way of helping you become more successful in your work or relationships? Does the commitment of adoring this King in worship take you away from too many other far more “important” activities going on in your preoccupied life? 

That’s OK. He came anyway. Your Conquering King Arrived, not because he knew he’d find such a welcome place in your heart, but because he knew everything that was wrong with your heart, and mine, and everyone else’s.

So he came anyway. He came to do something about it. He came to allow his own heart to give out in death so that he could give us new hearts filled with life through his forgiveness and salvation. On Palm Sunday, the crowds shouted their hosannas and Jesus answered – he saved. Them. And you. And me. From hell.

May the Lord renew our appreciation this week of why our Conquering King Arrived: to meet our greatest need. He came to save us. 

Life for the Dead

(2 Kings 4:17-37)

“Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” So wrote Benjamin Franklin to the French Physicist Jean-Baptiste Le Roy in 1789. Although it does not appear that Franklin was the originator of the phrase pertaining to the certainty of death and taxes, it was very likely his use of it that made the phrase popular. And it is a rather timely phrase, not only because the deadline for filing taxes is right around the corner, but also because two of the three readings in worship this same Sunday reminded us of the certainty of death. 

In the Gospel of John (ch.11), we hear of Lazarus, whose resurrection from the dead is arguably the most well-known biblical account of a person being raised from the dead – outside of Jesus himself, of course. In 2 Kings, we find a much less familiar account of an unnamed boy of unnamed parents who was raised by the prophet Elisha. While the two accounts do relate to the Benjamin Franklin quote, Franklin’s words also demonstrate something else: man’s inability to provide any real hope or comfort in the face of death.

Admittedly, one could argue that offering comfort or hope is not the intent of the Franklin quote. True, but couldn’t that just as easily be because that’s all the world can offer regarding death – no hope or comfort – just the certainty that death will come to each of us one day? 

You’ve very likely experienced the world’s inability to offer any hope or comfort if you’ve wrestled with the death of a loved one. It is a different thing to hear a non-Christian make such attempts. “Sending condolences or positive thoughts your way”, being “sorry for your loss”, and any other number of people’s personal ideas of what happens to us when we die – they all have this in common: they miss the mark terribly. 

But God has plenty to say in the face of death. Better yet, God has something to show us when words can sometimes fall short: he shows us life in the face of death. God shows us that it isn’t only death and taxes that are certain, but so is life from death. So as we consider one of the ten occasions recorded in Scripture in which the dead are brought back to life, we want to be reminded that when we face death, God provides much more for us than some empty, fast-forgotten phrase: he provides life. Real life. 

Though perhaps not as familiar as the other resurrection accounts in the Bible, the one before us from 2 Kings hits differently, as do any such accounts that involve children. While old age and long-lived lives ready us somewhat for the arrival of death, the death of the young increases its sting even more. But not even dying young allows death to put up such a barrier that God cannot overcome.

If we back up a few years before where we pick up in 2 Kings 4, it will provide some background. The Shunammite woman was a believer with not only the desire to support the Lord’s work but also the financial means to do so. She took on a building project to provide a place for Elisha to rest and recover as the itinerant preacher frequently traveled through her area. It was a room constructed on the top of the flat roof of her home, perhaps with its own external set of stairs to allow the prophet access to and from his room as he needed. 

As an expression of gratitude, Elisha offered to put in a good word for her. After all, Elisha not only had the backing of God’s generous hand but he also held a measure of influence among some of the royal officials. After she declined his offer, Elisha’s servant, Gehazi, pointed out that she had no son and the age of her husband seemed to rule out the possibility of her bearing a child in the future. So Elisha promised her that in a year’s time, she would be holding her own son in her arms. Sure enough, it happened just as Elisha said it would and the woman had a son, which is where our account picks up. 

After the boy was older, “one day he went out to his father, who was with the reapers. He said to his father, ‘My head! My head!’ His father told a servant, ‘Carry him to his mother’” (v.18-19). Although the cause of the boy’s suffering is not clearly revealed, it’s most commonly presumed that the boy was suffering from sunstroke – not at all uncommon in the region. While sunstroke could certainly be fatal, it didn’t appear that the boy’s father presumed it was that serious at this point. Thinking his situation was still treatable, the father directed a servant to take the boy inside to his mother to be cared for. Unfortunately, it was too late, as the boy died shortly thereafter on his mother’s lap. 

Mom didn’t waste any time. Placing the boy in Elisha’s bed in his room, possibly to keep avoid drawing attention to his death at this point, she made arrangements to visit the prophet Elisha. The timing surprised her husband, as there was no religious reason for her to be visiting the man of God. After the trip of between 15-20 miles, Elisha saw her arriving from a distance and sent Gehazi out to ask her if everything is alright. Determined to discuss the matter with the prophet himself and not his servant, she does what we still do today when we don’t wish to discuss our genuine feelings or concerns with someone by brushing aside any concerns with, “I’m fine.” 

But we already know that she wasn’t, and that became clear immediately as she came to Elisha. After reminding the prophet that she had never asked for a son in the first place, she fully trusted Elisha to do something about his death. She showed her persistence by insisting on remaining with Elisha even after he sent Gehazi ahead to try his hand at raising the boy by laying his staff on the boy’s face.

While we don’t know the significance of this action, it has been suggested that Elisha possibly knew the staff would not do anything and was setting the stage for superstition or other means to be ruled out so that it would be clear that the Lord alone would be responsible for this miracle. Regardless, after Gehazi returned to Elisha with word of his unsuccessful attempt, God’s prophet soon after arrived at the house.

What does Elisha do first? He models for us a great first step for every occasion: he prays. He knows that any miracle that would take place would only be the work of the Lord’s hand, so he rightly takes the matter to him first. Then, perhaps because it was the same manner used by his mentor, the prophet Elijah, in raising the widow at Zarapheth’s son from the dead, Elisha stretches his body on the boy. A dead body doesn’t take long to grow cold, and we’re told that the boy’s body started to become warm.

Yet this miracle wasn’t instantaneous (did God wish to stretch Elisha’s faith, too?). Elisha paced in the room, patiently allowing the Lord to work in his own time, and then persistently repeated the same action, stretching himself on the boy again. Finally, the sign of life, for dead people don’t sneeze! “The boy sneezed seven times and opened his eyes” (v.35). The Shunammite’s son lived! Elisha directed his servant to call for mom to come and hold her living son, which she did after falling to the ground at Elisha’s feet in humble gratitude for this miracle. 

The Lord’s hand in this account is evident. It was clearly a miracle that the boy was raised back to life in the manner he was, for there is no holistic reason or medical explanation for a life being restored by means of a living person stretching out on a dead person. No one who has died or is nearly dead is brought into a hospital’s ER so that the doctor can empty the room of all its medical equipment in favor of lying down on top of the person to save him. That’s not how it works! But, as we see in Scripture, it certainly can be how God chooses to work. 

Besides the miracle itself, which is always an amazing show of God’s power, what is the point? Why are the dead raised to life in the Bible? As I wrote earlier, including Jesus’ own resurrection, we have ten occasions in the Bible on which dead people are raised to life. But why?

Through these miracles, God tightens the connection between his physical and spiritual promises. What we see happen physically when God raises the dead solidifies for us the reality of what God also promises spiritually. 

We are all born dead in sin, but made alive only through faith in Christ (Eph. 2). As true as this spiritual truth is, it’s not always easy for us to grasp abstract spiritual truths. So what does God do? He shows us his power over physical death. He demonstrates what is possible by taking a lifeless corpse and making it alive.

What he has done physically he does for us spiritually. And because we believe he has brought us to life spiritually, we in turn have the confidence that he will do it for us physically. Do you see the relationship? 

God alone gives life to the dead – both spiritually and physically. We have the assurance of this because we believe. We have faith, the same faith in God as the Shunammite woman, very likely on the mind of the writer of Hebrews who wrote, “[By faith] Women received back their dead, raised to life again” (Heb. 11:35). Faith fills us with the doubly-blessed assurance of spiritual life and physical life forever. 

Outside of faith, there is no such guarantee. Outside of faith, a person may appear to be very much physically alive while at the same time remaining spiritually dead. If that person remains spiritually dead when he or she physically dies, the final result will be eternal death in hell. There will be no more opportunities for spiritual life after this physical life is over. This life, our “time of grace” as it is often called, is the time God has allotted for us to be made spiritually alive through faith. It is the time for us to see who Jesus is, what he has done, and to believe that as our Savior, he alone offers spiritual and eternal life to all who believe. 

At what cost? The events of Holy Week remind us, as the Holy Spirit takes us from the hosannas of Palm Sunday to the heartache of Good Friday. Jesus died so that there could be life for the dead. And in Jesus, that is what we have: life. And we aren’t just talking of spiritual life, but physical life. Real life. Eternal life. Through Jesus, death will not be your end, for he gives life for the dead. 

Sight for the Blind

(John 9:1-7, 13-17, 34-39)

Often times when Jesus was questioned during his ministry – especially by the Pharisees – he provided the needed answer and not necessarily the desired answer to the question that was asked. But this is not one of those times. T,his time, when Jesus’ disciples ask him a question, Jesus answers their question plainly. But his answer to their question prompts us to wrestle with a follow-up question: Are you OK with the answer Jesus provides?

We have an opportunity here to learn a very powerful lesson from Scripture pertaining to the source of suffering. When suffering presents itself in our lives, whether it slips in subtly or crashes into our lives like a wall-size wave in the ocean, one of the first questions that we seek to untangle in our minds is “Why?” Why did this or why is this happening? Is this my fault? Is this from God? Is there some other reason for this suffering in this way at this time in my life? Why? 

And without being overly dramatic, how we answer that question can often serve as the strongest indicator of how well we’ll process and handle suffering in the future. 

Let’s go back to the beginning of the story that Jesus used to lay the foundation for the point he was making. Jesus and his disciples came across a man who evidently had been born blind. The disciples’ question reflected a sentiment that was very common in their day: they presumed the man’s suffering was directly tied to some sin. In other words, in its simplest form, the rationale goes like this: when something bad happens to a person, it’s because of something bad they did. In this particular case, the man’s blindness prompted the disciples to ask, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” (v.2).  

Notice how strong their assumption was. They didn’t ask Jesus if it was possible that the man was born blind because of some sin he or his parents had committed. They had already concluded as much. The only help they needed from Jesus in their minds was to determine who was at fault – the man or his parents. It so permeated their thinking at that time that bad things happen to people because of the bad things they have done.

As flawed and flat-out wrong as this thinking is, it lingers in our minds today. Sometimes the suffering we experience might correlate with the sin very clearly in our mind. For example, “Because I trampled on God’s gift of sex for so long in my life, I’ll always suffer unhealthy relationships and never likely marry.” “Because I stole or was dishonest with financial arrangements in my past, my financial situation will always be a mess.” 

Other times there may be no connection whatsoever, but we nevertheless conclude that some bad thing from our past must be the cause of our suffering in the present. “That shameful thing from my childhood or teenage years with a group of kids that I was involved with is why I can’t get a job.” “My sickness or chronic pain is God’s way of getting back at me for neglecting him for so many years.” There are many other versions and varieties, but the thinking is the same: “My past sin is the cause of my present suffering.”

If I may interject momentarily to stress something important… do you see how destructive sin can be? It can be so easy for us to downplay it in the here and now because of our assurance of forgiveness, but don’t the examples just provided – as well as the unmentioned ones still lingering in your head and heart right now – demonstrate the gravity of sin?

Even though you know they’re forgiven, certain sins from our past cling to us and haunt us, refusing to be forgotten long after they’ve been forgiven. So it isn’t just that sin is an affront to God and separates us from him – which is its worst consequence, to be sure – but it’s also the long-lasting effect of collateral damage that sin does to us years after it has been committed. All of us have experienced this, yet we still so easily give sin a pass in our lives as if it’s no big deal – even as past sins are shouting a contrary message inside our minds! So sin’s lingering memory often contributes to our confusion over the source and intent of our suffering.

And we struggle with the “Why?” of suffering for another reason: On the one hand, your past sin is absolutely not the cause of your present suffering. On the other, it may very well be. Let me explain.

God is not in the business of punishing his people for sins that have already been suffered and paid for in full. Jesus already took the punishment of our sin and made full payment for every sin you’ve ever sinned. The writer to the Hebrews reflected it well. In referring to Jesus, he wrote, “Such a high priest truly meets our need—one who is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens. Unlike the other high priests, he does not need to offer sacrifices day after day, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people. He sacrificed for their sins once for all when he offered himself “ (Hebrews 7:26-27). Is God a liar? He is not. So if he says that our sin has been paid for once for all by Jesus, then there is no sin left unpunished. Your suffering is not punishment for your sin. 

On the other hand, your present suffering may have been caused by your past sin in the sense that it may be the consequence of it. Do you see the difference? Our society has laws in place that also include consequences for breaking those laws. For example, speeding, stealing, domestic violence, or drunk driving all carry legal repercussions from fines to jail time. While God isn’t punishing you for your sins in cases where you’ve been guilty of breaking the law, there are consequences.

And this doesn’t just apply to breaking the laws of government. There are other consequences. When God’s gift of sex is misappropriated outside the safety and security of marriage as he intended, unwanted children may end up being born to a single parent or tragically, even aborted. Disease may be spread or divorce may result. These are consequences.

When we fail to care for God’s gift of our body by neglecting any exercise or activity and eating garbage all the time, we are very likely to have health issues down the road. When we do, that isn’t God punishing us for our sin, but is rather a consequence of neglecting to take care of our body.

In all of these cases, God isn’t punishing us for our sins; rather, we are simply experiencing the consequences of our sinful choices. To be clear on all of these points, repentant hearts can be 100% sure that each and every one of those sins has been forgiven – but the consequences of some sinful choices may be ongoing. Sadly, sometimes those consequences can be so severe that Satan uses that to lead us to doubt or question our forgiveness. 

Being able to grasp the source of suffering allows us to then focus on God’s desired outcomes from suffering. Jesus clarified that in his answer to the disciples’ question: “this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him” (v.3). Just what was the work that God longed to display through this man? Jesus explained that further when he later encountered the man after the man had been badgered by the Pharisees.

“When [Jesus] found him, he said, ‘Do you believe in the Son of Man?’  ‘Who is he, sir?’ the man asked. ‘Tell me so that I may believe in him’  Jesus said, ‘You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.’ Then the man said, ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worshiped him. Jesus said, ‘For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind’” (v.35-39). 

What is that key point from Jesus? He sums it up in that final verse. “Jesus said, ‘For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind’” (v.39). Jesus used this miraculous healing of a physical limitation to illustrate a deeper theological truth: only through faith in him can anyone see what matters more than anything that can be captured with physical sight; only through faith in him can anyone see the forgiveness and salvation he alone offers. Those who think they see the source of forgiveness, salvation – or for that matter righteousness or any other spiritual substance – in anyone or anything other than the Savior will remain in their blindness. Whether through eyes of faith we see salvation in Jesus or through the eyes of self-righteousness we are blind to it, on that basis alone will Jesus judge the world. In other words, Jesus came to provide sight to those who know they are blind on their own, and to blind those who in unbelief are convinced they can see just fine.

So, are you OK with the answer Jesus provides? For those of us with a genuine desire to see God use us in great ways for his kingdom purposes, it is quite natural that we’d prefer him to achieve that through our amazing accomplishments, along the lines of the famous evangelists or through a thriving ministry or via our financial backing of unforgettable building projects. But what if the greatest way he chooses to use us is to best display his glorious work through our suffering? Are you OK with that? 

The man whose eternity was changed for the better through Jesus this morning was OK with it. In fact, in hindsight, if we were able to interview that man from heaven right now and ask him if he had to choose one or the other – physical sight or spiritual sight, seeing his surroundings or seeing his Savior, which one do you suppose he’d choose?

There is no question. Undoubtedly the man would have willingly remained physically blind for the rest of his earthly life in favor of the spiritual sight Jesus provided for him. If God chooses to accomplish that eternal good through me, the act of leading souls to see Jesus as their Savior, then so be it – even if he uses my suffering to accomplish it. 

Hope for the Suffering

(Romans 5:1-8)

Here we come across a verse that we would all do well to put into practice a little more often: “And we boast in the hope of the glory of God” (v.2). This is one of those Bible verses that certainly sounds spiritual and like one that we maybe ought to have displayed on some wall art in our home somewhere. But… sometimes we struggle to relate to what verses like this are actually saying.  

Paul doesn’t lack theological jargon in his letters. He uses words and terms that have deep spiritual significance. We have a hard time deciphering the spiritual verbiage and translating it into an understandable application for my life. So what is Paul saying here? I don’t think it’s twisting his words if we take them this way: we rejoice in the confidence of God’s “God-ness.” I know that last one is a made-up word, but we get it, don’t we? Paul is stating that we can find joy in knowing for certain that God is always going to show up, that he is always going to be doing the things that make him God. How do we know? That’s exactly what the “therefore” is there for in the first verse and following.

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand” (v.1-2). Pardon a little more theological jargon from Paul, but let’s restate simply what he is saying here, too: we have been declared not guilty of our sins because of all that Jesus did for us, and because we believe that, we have the perfectly peaceful relationship with God and live every second of our lives as the recipients of his fiercely devoted and limitless love. That is your reality right now and tomorrow and until God’s glorious return on the Last Day.

And since that is our reality, we find in it an unparalleled spiritual swagger that more than qualifies us not just to “get through” life, but to maximize our lives, to live them to the full, at all times… even when faced with suffering. 

You knew it was coming, didn’t you? If you looked at the title of this post or paid attention as you read through this section from Romans, you couldn’t miss the word suffering. Let’s go ahead and just acknowledge that that word wouldn’t make the top ten list of everybody’s favorite topics to talk about. And that’s OK. Neither Paul nor God ever says that suffering has to be our favorite. It is never implied that if you don’t get warm fuzzy feelings at the thought of suffering, you are somehow less spiritual or there’s something wrong with you. No, we don’t have to like it, but here’s the thing: we can learn to embrace suffering because of what God will do through it. 

I don’t imagine too many professional athletes relish the grueling hours spent disciplining their bodies in training and practice in the preseason and throughout the regular season. But those who have had the privilege of holding up the championship trophy at the end of the season would – and do! – go through all of it again year after year in pursuit of that end result. 

So it is with suffering in our lives. God doesn’t say you have to look forward to it or love it, but neither does he want us to shy away from it or to loathe it, because he guarantees that he’s always going to do good things in and for us through suffering.

No, we don’t necessarily need God to remove any inconvenient or difficult suffering in our lives; what we need instead is hope to endure it. And God provides that hope in two ways: 1) Hope is ours because of Jesus’ suffering, and 2) Hope is ours because of our suffering.

I. Hope is ours because of Jesus’ suffering

I wrote a moment ago that God guarantees that he’s always going to do good things in and for us through suffering. Could there be any better proof of that than looking to the crucifixion of Christ? It was the single greatest act of undeserved suffering ever experienced in the world, and through it, God brought the greatest good ever in the world: salvation for all people.

Paul delves into it more in the last part of these verses. “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 person, though for a good person 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” (v. 6-8). Jesus’ suffering stands out so much not only because it was completely undeserved, but also because of those for whom he suffered, described in two ways in these verses: the “ungodly” and “sinners.”

Consider that the next time you try to smooth-talk your sin to someone else or give the “I’m not really sorry” apology. When we try to whitewash our sin, what are we really trying to convince ourselves and others of? Could it be that we’d like to pretend that maybe terms like “ungodly” and “sinners” ought to be reserved only for the really bad folks out there, but that they don’t really apply to us? 

We would like our sin to be like the one or two-day-old container of food in the fridge that may not smell 100% fresh, but it’s still good, still edible. Our sin isn’t like the stuff that got shoved to the back of the fridge for way too long that leaves no doubt about having spoiled once you take off the lid and the sight and smell trigger an instant gag reflex. Surely that’s not our sin. We want to think that our slightly less-than-fresh sin is not nearly as bad as the funky smell of other people’s sin. 

Realize that if we could hypothetically somehow make our sin appear less sinful, then there’s only one conclusion we could arrive at: Jesus didn’t come for us. We don’t need him. What a terrifying thought!

If Jesus didn’t come for us, then we are on our own, and if we’re on our own, though we might completely fool ourselves about our own perceived goodness, our fraud will be exposed for what it is on the last day when Satan eagerly presents his endless volumes of record books tracking our sins. God would have no choice at that point but to be the just God that he is and condemn any who thought they did nothing to deserve condemnation.

Because Jesus didn’t suffer for the slightly sinful. He didn’t die for the sometimes godly. He died for ungodly sinners.

And that alone is where the hope comes from which Paul refers to at the end of verse two. Hope because of Jesus’ suffering is only for the ungodly. It is only for sinners. We remind ourselves of that when we gather each week in worship by starting out the service confessing our sins – reminding ourselves of the ungodly sinners that we are on our own. 

But we do that for a purpose. Not to beat ourselves up or wallow in that guilt for an hour; rather, to set the tone for the hope that Jesus freely gives to ungodly sinners through the suffering of Jesus – hope that is applied to us as we are assured of the forgiveness of sins through the absolution. 

Now what does that hope have to do with your suffering? Everything, friends! Jesus’ suffering means that your suffering will come to an end, no matter what it is. Whether the cause of your suffering is financial, relational, health or work-related, or a direct consequence of your own sin – it doesn’t matter – it will end. But more importantly, the hope we have through Jesus’ suffering means always having something to look forward to. Always. Even chronic suffering is short-lived compared to the hope we have because of Jesus’ suffering, a hope that allows us to look forward to an eternity without any suffering. 

That’s well and good for the future, you might agree, but it may not seem to be all that helpful while we’re in the midst of the severe storms of suffering. That’s why Paul holds out even more hope to us. Hope isn’t just ours because of Jesus’ suffering, but 

II. Hope is ours because of our suffering

God wants to heap more hope on us. How does he do it? Through our suffering. Paul wrote, “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance;  perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (v.3-5). There’s that word glory again. What on earth does it mean for us to “glory” in our suffering? We might better understand what Paul is saying with the word “rejoice” instead of “glory.” In fact, a good number of very reliable Bible translations use the word “rejoice” here instead of “glory.” Although, you might still be wondering if Paul is off his rocker in encouraging us to rejoice in suffering!

But he is not, and he is not because he knows – from first-hand experience, mind you – that God masterfully makes suffering serve our greater good. Only God could do that! Only the God who brought the greatest good out of the greatest suffering of his Son could also use something like suffering to produce a better version of us. And that is exactly what he does. How? 

Look at Paul’s progression: suffering produces perseverance, which produces character, which results in even more hope. 

Let’s break that down, starting with perseverance. This one might be difficult for us to see, as we have a tendency to nostalgically remember our past as if we’re fondly remembering a greeting card, which allows us then to filter out a lot of the turmoil that actually we experienced. But if your memory wasn’t so dishonest with you, you’d actually recall some pretty significant seasons of suffering, some things that, when you were just starting to go through them, seemed insurmountable at the time. They appeared to be way too much for you as the suffering loomed, and you couldn’t see any way through them. 

But what happened? You got through it (or better, God got you through it!). I mean, here you are today. You (God!) persevered. And because you (God!) did, in your own mind, as more time goes by, you don’t even remember how dreadful it was at the time. God brought you through it and you persevered. And each time God does that, each time he pushes you to persevere, you grow. How do we know?

Character is the proof. Perhaps the best way to describe what Paul is pointing out here is that when you persevere through suffering, God changes you for the better. He uses it to shape you and chisel away the character flaws and faults and replace them with faithful fortitude and fearlessness. 

As a Christian, you are not the same Christian you used to be. God has changed you for the better and will keep doing so. Yes, he’ll continue to use suffering to accomplish that, but if he is ultimately building my character as a child of God through it, then bring it on! That will only serve me, serve others, and serve God’s kingdom better in the future. 

Realizing how God does all of that through our suffering adds even more hope. God doesn’t waste suffering. Read that again. God doesn’t waste suffering. He uses it to keep his promises and bring good out of every situation. When I have that confidence – and every one of us reading this can and should – then I have hope. 

You may think the answer to your suffering is for God to remove it. And sometimes that may very well be his solution since he also delights in doing that! But other times it won’t. Other times he will allow suffering to persist because he wants to fill you up with hope – hope that is yours through Jesus’ suffering and through the good that God will work in you through your own suffering.