2021 Lenten Devotional - Perfectly Wounded by 1871

PERFECTLY WOUNDED: Lessons from the Body of Christ for the Body of Christ

White’s Chapel Media 185 S. White Chapel Boulevard Southlake, TX 76092 www.whiteschapelumc.com info@whiteschapelumc.com ©2021 by Dr. John E. McKellar and Dr. Todd Renner Published in the United States of America by White’s Chapel Media. All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from White’s Chapel Media. White’s Chapel Media is a publishing and communication division of White’s Chapel United Methodist Church. All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from the Holy Bible, New Revised Standard Version® (NRSV®) Design: Alec Hanson Layout: Susanna Cunningham Printed in the United States of America.

Contents Introduction............................................................................. 7 Day One.............................................................................. 11 Day Two.............................................................................. 13 Day Three............................................................................ 16 Day Four.............................................................................. 19 Day Five............................................................................... 22 Day Six................................................................................ 24 Day Seven............................................................................ 26 Day Eight............................................................................ 28 Day Nine............................................................................. 30 Day Ten............................................................................... 32 Day Eleven.......................................................................... 36 Day Twelve........................................................................... 38 Day Thirteen........................................................................ 40 Day Fourteen....................................................................... 43 Day Fifteen........................................................................... 46 Day Sixteen.......................................................................... 49 Day Seventeen..................................................................... 52 Day Eighteen....................................................................... 55 Day Nineteen....................................................................... 58 Day Twenty.......................................................................... 61 Day Twenty-One.................................................................. 64 Day Twenty-Two.................................................................. 66 Day Twenty-Three............................................................... 69 Day Twenty-Four.................................................................. 72 Day Twenty-Five.................................................................. 74 Day Twenty-Six.................................................................... 76 Day Twenty-Seven............................................................... 79 Day Twenty-Eight................................................................ 82 Day Twenty-Nine................................................................. 86

Contents Day Thirty........................................................................... Day Thirty-One................................................................... Day Thirty-Two................................................................... Day Thirty-Three................................................................ Day Thirty-Four.................................................................. Day Thirty-Five................................................................... Day Thirty-Six..................................................................... Day Thirty-Seven................................................................ Day Thirty-Eight................................................................. Day Thirty-Nine.................................................................. Day Forty............................................................................

89 92 95 98 101 105 107 110 113 115 118

Introduction to Lent INTRODUCTION TO LENT… From the earliest days of the Church, Christians have held with great reverence the forty days of Lent. An annual invitation to a time of reflection, Lent is a season for self-examination and penitence. It is a season of honest evaluation as we confess who we are and who we are yet to be. These forty days ask us to go on a journey; they invite us to travel through the darkness of Calvary’s pain so that we might celebrate the joy and love of Easter morning in new light and in new life. To do this, though, we must prepare ourselves. Lent, then, is a time for prayer and fasting. It is a time for silence and for the studying of God’s Holy Word. It is a time when we are asked to take seriously the call of the spiritual disciplines. More, though, it is a time for us to be mindful, a time for us to be soulful… a time for us to be honest about what keeps us from following the way of Jesus Christ.

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INTRODUCTION TO THIS YEAR’S SERIES... In the midst of everything we’ve experienced in the past year, the Church – the very body of Christ – can learn much from the actual, literal, physical body of Christ. With rancor all around us, with tension within and without, this year, we get back to the basics. We go back to the Gospels, back to Jesus Christ, our Lord. For He gives us our hope. He gives us our courage. He gives us our purpose and message and worth. He is our way forward as He gives us the strength to purposefully look back. As always, our purpose is simple: to elicit a response. It is for us to be inspired, to be challenged, and to be changed. Our purpose, hope, and prayer is that our hearts will be “strangely warmed” as we reflect upon the Bible’s truth and the Savior’s call.

Dr. John McKellar Dr. Todd Renner 2021

“Who has believed what we have heard? And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have all turned to our own way, and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.” – Isaiah 53:1-7 –

WEEK ONE:

Day One // February 17 // His Body

The Body of Christ

“May nothing entice me till I happily make my way to Jesus Christ! Fire, cross, struggles with wild beasts, wrenching of bones, mangling of limbs – let them come to me, provided only I make my way to Jesus Christ.” – Ignatius of Antioch –

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by his wounds you were healed.” – 1 Peter 2:24 –

He was – and still is – the perfect Son of God. Without blot or blemish, Jesus came to live amongst us – a life that thundered with all the power of heaven. He came to heal and to love and to save. Yes, to save the world… but more than that. He came to save us – you and me… we, sinners. In His body, the Lord became for us what we couldn’t be for ourselves: righteousness and holiness and hope. The perfect Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world! And we say that He was wholly divine – and rightly so. But in the same breath we must confess that Jesus was wholly human, too. It’s the only way that atonement works. His was mortal flesh. His were salty tears. He knew the pains of loss and grief and betrayal. From

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the inside, He knew (and still knows) the full course of human experience. And praise God for that! For, in His body, imbued with full divinity and full humanity, Jesus wept. Jesus hungered. He worked and sweat and bled. He was tempted in every way as we are, but He was found without sin (Hebrews 4:15). And in enduring the torments and suffering of this world, He redeemed them. In His weeping, Jesus redeemed all the tears we’ve ever wept. In His woundedness, Jesus redeemed all the wounds we’ve ever felt – all the broken places, all the painful places, all the shameful places we don’t want to admit. In His body, He gives worth – sacred worth – to all those dark and guilty moments we’ve long feared worthless. And now, from personal experience, He stands able to make intercession at the throne of the Father – hearing our prayers with knowing ears, not as some distant deity incapable of empathizing with our plight… but as One who knows and who feels from the inside what it is to be human. This is the journey of Lent: to figure out what it means to be fully human. To examine ourselves through the righteous lens of Christ. To reflect upon who we are, upon who we aren’t, and upon who we could and should become.

Day Two // February 18 // Our Body “God knows I’m not perfect, either. I’ve made tons of stupid mistakes, and later I regretted them. And I’ve done it over and over again, thousands of times; a cycle of hollow joy and vicious self-hatred. But even so, every time I learned something about myself.” – Misato Katsuragi –

We begin with the human conundrum. We believe and choose to follow the Jesus who was without sin. We are flawed humanity who constantly fall short and miss the mark of our highest desires. We either resign ourselves to our predicament, or in our struggle to be better, we begin the upward climb of sanctification. We resonate with Paul’s anguish in Romans 7: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do… wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?” It is the struggle to be more like Jesus that should define our journey of Lent. How often do we have beliefs that we struggle to put into practice? In fact, there

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is actually a new kind of vegetarian. They are people who don’t eat meat – most of the time. One of them explained that she was a vegetarian, but she really liked bacon. And, so, she eats bacon. And therein lies the contradiction: a vegetarian, by definition, is someone who doesn’t eat meat. So, a new phrase has been coined to describe vegetarians who aren’t committed to abstaining from meat. They now identify themselves as “flexitarians.” Too many Christians settle for being “flexitarians.” We believe in Jesus, but that belief is not translated into living the Gospel. Kyle Idleman wrote an intriguing essay in which he explored our predicament in following Jesus. He wrote: “A Christian, by definition, is a follower of Christ. But too many identify themselves as Christians but have little interest in actually following the teachings of Jesus. Perhaps instead of ‘followers,’ it would be more accurate to call them ‘fans.’ The word fan is most simply defined as, an enthusiastic admirer. And I think Jesus has a lot of fans these days. Some fans may even get dressed up for church on Sunday and make their ringtone a worship song. They like being associated with Jesus. Fans want to be close enough to Jesus to get the benefits, but not so close that it requires anything from them. They want a no-strings-attached relationship with Jesus. So, a fan

says, I like Jesus but don’t ask me to serve the poor. I like Jesus, but I’m not going to give my money to people who are in need. I like Jesus, but don’t ask me to forgive the person who hurt me.” As we travel these days of Lent, we need to honestly struggle with the gap between what we believe and how we live. In these days, Jesus doesn’t need more fans. He needs followers willing to take up a cross and join Him on the journey to Jerusalem.

Day Three // February 19 // Perfectly Faithful “A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in – what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.” – Victor Hugo –

Jesus gives us clues of how He maintained His God connection to do His work on earth. As Mark 1:35 records: “In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” He consistently carved out time to be alone, to pray, and to reflect on the presence of God all around Him… and all around us. In a world of busyness and constant connection with virtual media, Lent asks us to come away to a quiet place and spend time with God. Father Richard Rohr shared some insights into his own spiritual journey. He wrote: “In 1985 my Franciscan ‘guardians’ (as Francis called our superiors) gave me a year’s leave to spend in contemplation. It was a major turning point in my life.

The first thirty days of my ‘sabbatical’ were spent in the hills of Kentucky, in Thomas Merton’s hermitage about a mile away from the main monastery. I was absolutely alone with myself, with the springtime woods, and with God, hoping to somehow absorb some of Merton’s wisdom. That first morning, it took me a while to slow down. I must have looked at my watch at least ten times before 7:00 a.m.! I had spent so many years standing in front of crowds as a priest and a teacher. I had to find out who I was without those trappings – the naked me alone before God. In the mornings, I would put my chair in front of the door and watch the sun come up. In the late afternoons, I would move my chair to the other side of the hermitage and watch the sun go down. The little squirrels and birds came closer and closer. They’re not afraid when we’re absolutely still. Father William McNamara’s definition of contemplation as ‘a long loving look at the real’ became transformative for me. The world, my own issues and hurts, all my goals and desires gradually dissolved and fell into proper perspective. God became obvious and ever present. I understood what Merton meant when he said, ‘The gate of heaven is everywhere.’” During Lent, we need to take a long, loving look at the Kingdom of God all around us. How and when we do that will be unique to us. I heard Dolly Parton recently share that she very often wakes up at three o’clock in the morning and carves out the first four hours of her

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day praying, studying Scripture, writing, and spiritually preparing herself for the day. I have other friends who are night owls, who spend the hours after midnight doing a spiritual examination; praying, contemplating, and preparing for what is next. What matters is that we learn Jesus’ secret: that quiet time of connection with God is the fuel that will guide the work we must do… living into the resounding promise Jesus made us: “But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you” (John 14:26).

Day Four // February 20 // Perfectly Wounded “Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.” – Sir Thomas Moore –

Ours scars tell a story. On my foot, there’s a tender patch that betrays the time I stepped on a broken bottle. On my knee, proof of a biking mishap. On my hands and arm and eye, little reminders of pains long past. Our scars tell a story. And so do Jesus’. His head, wounded by thorns. His hands and feet, pierced by nails. His sacred side, the target of a Roman spear. And He did it all for us. He endured it so that we might know the love of God, so that we might see the lengths to which Heaven would go (and still goes) to redeem the earth. He chose to suffer in His body so that ours might be healed – healed from the sin-sickness that comes from being human.

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His scars tell a story: one that, through this holy season, we hope to tell. For in each of His wounds, there’s a lesson, a charge, a deeper significance. His wounded head: a call to sacrifice the way we think – all our mental and intellectual snobbery. His wounded hands: a call to surrender our abilities and strengths. His wounded side: a call to yield our communal and social aspirations. His wounded feet: a call to transform our personal and professional mobility – all the places we choose to go and all the things we choose to do. As the Prophet Isaiah (and, later, Peter) would declare, “By his scars, we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5, 1 Peter 2:24). But, in order to be healed, we must come to the Healer. We must humble ourselves and confess our need, our brokenness, our pain, our sin. We must confess that we have broken God’s will and that we’ve broken His heart, that His scars bear our names. For in that moment of piercing-but-blessed honesty, we find the ecstasy of freedom – healing in mind and body and soul. In that moment, our scars start to tell a different story: not of the pain once felt, but of the healing forever known.

WEEK TWO: The Mind of Christ

“Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” – Philippians 4:8 –

Day Five // February 22 // The Crowned Head of Christ “The strong hands of God twisted the crown of thorns into a crown of glory; and in such hands we are safe.” – Charles Williams –

He was the Lord of lords and the King of kings. But His crown was not one of gold. It was one of thorns. It was a diadem that sparkled not with the regal red of rubies, but with the crimson spangle of sacred blood. It was a mockery. It was a farce. Coronated in ridicule and scorn, the Savior humbly offered His holy brow to the very ones He’d come to save… but they were unaware. They were unaware that the One whom they scourged had healed sick. They were unaware that the One they mocked had calmed the seas. The world was unaware that the One they rejected had come to invite them in. And the invitation still lingers. It is a call to holiness. It is a call to righteousness. It is a call to freedom and meaning and hope. It is a call

23 to joy – to a life, to the only life worth living. But in order to pursue that transformed way of living, we must submit to a new way of thinking. In fact, earlier in his letter to the Philippians, the Apostle Paul commanded the Church to live, to think, to want, to will with the same mind as that which was in Christ Jesus (Philippians 2:5-11). For this path of faith, this way of sanctification is not merely about our outer actions. It is just as much about – if not more so about – our thoughts, attitudes, and intentions. It’s about the “why” behind the “what.” Obedience rather than power. Humility instead of pride. And in surrendering His head, His mind to the petty whimsies of earth, Jesus, in fact, offered His loyalty to God. His wasn’t to strike back – though He could have. His wasn’t to seek revenge. It was to seek the lost, to offer Himself as a living sacrifice for all – we – who couldn’t save ourselves. It is to this consecrated pilgrimage that faith (not just Lent) calls us: to offer our whole selves – mind, body, and soul – to the pleasure and power of the Almighty.

Day Six // February 23 // Whatever is True “If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.” – Mark Twain –

Our thoughts have a dramatic impact on our lives. In fact, Proverbs 23:7 captures this truth: “For as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.” Billy Graham wrote, “In the course of a day, all sorts of thoughts lodge themselves in our minds – some good, some not so good. Those thoughts can, in turn, give birth to all sorts of worries and anxieties; they may even lead us to do things that are wrong or destructive.” To take charge of our thoughts and allow the mind of Christ be in us, we must begin by marinating in the truth. John 14:6-7 shows us where truth resides: “Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.’”

When we walk with God and put our trust in Jesus, our thoughts will start to reflect the values of Jesus. That doesn’t mean that our circumstances will magically change, but it does mean that we will be able to see God in our circumstances. We will start to live by hope. We will start to anticipate that new idea, that new person who will enter our lives. We will start to have a bigger picture and not let the setbacks of the moment deter the greater story. A few years ago, a champion table tennis player lost in the semi-finals of a competition. He decided to go up into the stands and watch the winning team play a few rounds. From there, he got an entirely different view of the game and his opponents. From above, he could see the big picture. He recognized the other teams’ techniques, their strategies, and their weaknesses. As he sat there and soaked up a whole new perspective on his opponents’ game, he realized that he could apply this wisdom to every part of his life. He commented, “The lesson was: Far too often, while fighting our day-to-day battles on the ground, we never look beyond ourselves, or the immediate moment, situation, need or craving at hand. Therefore, we fail to view things from the fuller, richer, wider context of the big picture” When we walk in the truth, we are able to see life from above. We can replace worry with trust, entitlement with gratitude, and we can start to live every day with the mind of Christ.

Day Seven // February 24 // Whatever is Right “Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.” – William Penn –

Liar. Four brutal letters. Letters that hurt and sting. Letters that unsettle. Letters that hit a little too close to home… because, ironically, they are true of each of us. We are liars. Not some of us. Not most of us. All of us. We are liars. Every day, we fib and fudge. Every day, we hedge – seduced by the alluring whispers of relativism. And for as much as we may try to deny it, I’m not talking about the way we talk. I’m thinking about the way we think. Every day, we lie because we lie to ourselves. Every day, in that subtle, thin-as-breath space between how we see life and how life really is, we go to work. We rearrange thoughts and ideas and memories to fit. Like oversized furniture in a too-small guest room, we angle, and we

barter with ourselves – trying to get all the pieces to match. Some of us “lie up”: remembering and thinking only the best of ourselves. And some of us “lie down”: fixated on all that we’ve done wrong. But neither of these are right. We try to tell God who we are, and He says in reply, “You don’t have a clue.” It is this transformed way of thinking – asking the Holy Spirit to reveal to us who it is that God knows us to be – that Lent pursues as its object. To think rightly of God, to think rightly of others, and to think rightly of ourselves. We are not the superstars of our very own dramas. We are not the MVPs or the CEOs the world tempts us to become. Neither are we the losers. We are not the sum total of all our failures. In Christ, they don’t get to define us. No, in truth, we are the very children of God. Think about that. God says that you are worth the price of His Son. Christ died for you – just as you are… not as you think you are. Like everything, though, it is a choice. It’s a daily desire to hear and to respond to the Truth that sets us free from all the lies. It’s a choice to either accept the meager crown this world affords or to pursue the priceless, unmatchable crown of heaven… for we can’t have both: the crown of thorns and the thirty pieces of silver.

Day Eight // February 25 // Whatever is Pure “Best of all is it to preserve everything in a pure, still heart, and let there be for every pulse a thanksgiving, and for every breath a song.” – Konrad von Gesner –

There is a story of a spiritual master who became a legend in his lifetime. It was said that God once sought his advice: “I want to play a game of hide and seek with humankind. I’ve asked my angels: where is the best place to hide? Some say the depths of the ocean. Others, the top of the highest mountain. Others still say the far side of the moon or a distant star. What do you suggest?” The spiritual master responded, “Hide in the human heart. That’s the last place they will think to look.” That’s where God wants to live. Jesus said, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8). Our goal is to let our hearts beat with Jesus’ values. To be real. To be authentic. When our hearts are pure, every part of life is ministry.

In the 19th century, the Danish theologian SØren Kierkegaard, wrote a book entitled, “Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing.” His purpose was to prepare Christians for confessing their sins by challenging them to be honest about their inner dividedness. We mistakenly think we are willing goodness. We think we want to do what God wills, but we really want something else entirely. We think we have repented, but we really have been impatient. We must decide. A pure heart translates our intentions into actions. The Greek word for pure means to be clean, blameless, unstained from guilt. It means to be the real deal. When we are pure, we practice our faith without agenda or pretense. We don’t give for recognition or praise; we simply want to let God’s love shine from our hearts. When we are pure, we love the unlovable. We care about those for whom Jesus would give His life. A pure heart prevents our eyes from becoming jaundiced. Rather than judging the sins of others, we look for ways to help, to encourage, and to shine light into the darkness.

Day Nine // February 26 // Whatever is Lovely “God’s finger can touch nothing but to mold it into loveliness.” – George MacDonald –

Years ago, we visited a local art museum. On the walls hung some of the greatest masters the world has ever known. There, in thick oils globbed onto timeless canvas, were landscapes and portraits and bucolic scenes of an easier time; but as we turned the corner, we entered the impressionist wing. Gone were the easily identified forms. Gone were the sensical brushstrokes. Now, we were faced with… well, I can’t be sure what we were faced with. Neither of us got it. But the room was filled. It was filled with people taking it all in, seeing in the points and dots and squiggles something that I couldn’t. Life, as in art, is all about perspective. It’s all about the lens through which we see the daily entanglements that crowd our souls within. It’s all about the way we

think about and the filter through which we process our world. So, what is the line that divides lovely from ugly? Is it personal taste? Or is it some fixed, unmovable, transcendent demarcation that stands with unquestionable authority? When it comes to art, I’ve been told the answer is taste. But when it comes to life – when it comes to faith – the answer is Jesus. Jesus moves the boundary. Or maybe He becomes the boundary. What was once ugly in our lives, seen through Calvary’s redemption, gives bloom to loveliness – for it’s there that we personally experience the Creator’s touch and transformation. There, despair gives way to hope, defeat concedes to victory, tragedy becomes triumph, and death bows down to life! It’s there, in that tender crucible of salvation, that God trades beauty for ashes (Isaiah 61:3). And our eyes see the wonder-working power of the Lord. No longer do our failures get to define us as failures; they make us over-comers as we reflect upon and respond to the great love the Savior has lavished upon us (1 John 3:1). That’s why we’re told to think on that which is lovely: because our thinking determines our actions, and our actions determine our character, and our character determines our life. That’s why we’re told to think on that which is lovely: because, when beauty breathes in our minds and souls, it need not appear anywhere else, for all of life will be seen through the wonderous lens of Beauty that died for all our ugliness!

Day Ten // February 27 // Whatever is Excellent “My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in small, I have always been thoroughly in earnest.” – Charles Dickens –

The Apostle Paul ends this injunction to let Christ’s mind live in us by urging, “If anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things.” What Paul is urging us to do is to not get mired in the ruts and struggles of life. To focus on those things that surpass and are superior to the ordinary. We must go beyond the limitations the culture wants to place on us. But notice where excellence begins: in our minds. Charles Swindoll wrote, “The secret of living a life of excellence is merely a matter of thinking thoughts of excellence. Really, it’s a matter of programming our minds with the kind of information that will set us free.” When we start thinking about excellent things, we will start to cultivate optimism. We will learn to not let

our negative tendencies overwhelm us. We recognize that life is filled with challenges. But if we go looking for disaster around every corner, there’s a good chance we’re going to bump into it. We need to redirect the energy we use for spotting what’s wrong with our lives into noticing what’s right. When we think about excellence, we will start to notice the little things. We will focus on the beauty of life. We can be grateful for small mercies. Gratitude always opens the door to happiness and, even better, to joy! Be grateful for the appliances that keep our households running, for the bed to rest our weary heads, for running water and the ever-present electricity to light our nights. And more than these, we need to focus on the amazing people God has placed in our lives. When the Apostle Paul was talking about spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians, he ended by saying, “Let me show you a more excellent way.” It was a more excellent way that he expressed by penning the famous “Love Hymn” of the Bible (1 Corinthians 13). We need to fill our minds with thoughts about how to love God and the people in our lives in a more excellent way. Nothing matters as much. Nothing can let the mind of Christ be in us more. Remember how Paul put it: “Love never dies. Inspired speech will be over some day; praying in tongues will end; understanding will reach its limit. We know only a portion of the truth, and what we say about God is always incomplete. But when the Complete arrives, our

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incompletes will be canceled. We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears, and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us! But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love” (1 Corinthians 13:813).

WEEK THREE: The Hands of Christ

“When Jesus had come down from the mountain, great crowds followed him; and there was a leper who came to him and knelt before him, saying, ‘Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.’ He stretched out his hand and touched him, saying, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’ Immediately his leprosy was cleansed.” – Matthew 8:1-3 –

Day Eleven // March 1 // The Surrendered Hands of Christ “Surrender the thing you fear into the hands of God. Turn it right over to God and ask Him to solve it with you. Fear is keeping things in your own hands; faith is turning them over into the hands of God.” – E. Stanley Jones –

Amidst a twisted grove of olive trees, holy hands that once spun the world into motion willingly gave themselves over to being bound. Having just been clasped in prayer, the Savior’s hands now lay prone against His side. And they had done such good. His hands had opened blind eyes. They had cast out demons and restored lepers to life. His hands were powerful – bringing healing and comfort to the masses. But even bound – tied with fetters of fear and jealousy and hate – our Lord’s hands would be victorious, for they were still capable of being spread out in love. Maybe no more powerfully than in that moment, when He willingly denied Himself and gave Himself over, had His hands worked such miracles. Fingers that had once

37 given hope to individuals now laid out to offer hope to the world. And it was a model for us – His Church, His followers… we who call ourselves the Body of Christ. As Christ surrendered His hands, so must we. Our strengths. Our abilities. Everything we’re capable of doing. Everything we’re capable of being. As the pierced hands of the Lord once gave proof to Thomas (John 20:24-27), so now do ours to the world around us. We are being watched. You are being watched. By your family. By your friends. By your co-workers and teammates. By your hunting buddies and tennis partners. Even by complete strangers. You are being watched. For hands – even idle hands – say more about us than we probably realize. But hands that cause hurt can also heal. Hands that stir up strife can also calm it. Hands that sow rancor and negativity can also plant the seeds of peace and friendship and love. With our hands, we can either tear down or build up. It’s all in the way we use – and the way we allow God to use – us. It’s all about the fights we choose to fight. We are being watched. So, what will your hands work for the Kingdom today?

Day Twelve // March 2 // Healing “In my deepest wound I saw Your glory, and it dazzled me.” – St. Augustine of Hippo –

It’s one of my favorite things about Jesus’ healing ministry: that He touched the people He cared for. He touched the untouchable and loved the unlovable. Certainly, the Lord was powerful enough that He could’ve just prayed over them. He probably could’ve just thought about their healing and had it accomplished. But Jesus knew something that we only strain to know: the healing power of touch. The necessity of touch. His were hands used for extraordinary means: to convey the very power of God into the world His hands had created: to love it, to serve it, to give His life for it. His hands had the power to bind up and to set loose. And, if we’re honest, we have to confess that we all have needs; we all have brokenness; we all have places that

we need Jesus to touch. We all have places that we need Jesus to heal. And He’s capable – even right now – of doing so: the same hands that cleansed the temple want to cleanse our souls. But our hands were given us not simply to receive. We were granted hands to give, as well. As it’s been said, God takes a hand wherever He finds one willing. He takes the hand of a bishop and ordains a pastor. He takes the hand of a doctor and relieves pain. He takes the hand of a mother and guides a child. He takes the hand of a friend and comforts a hurting neighbor. Look at your hands. They’re all different: worn, creased, strong or weak… they’re all different, but they are all hands strong enough to be touched and to be used by the Spirit. We all have a job to do in the Kingdom of God – an occupation far surpassing any preoccupation this world may offer – for those are just blinders to our real call, blinders to our real purpose for living: to be the hands of the Savior reaching out to the least, the lonely, and the lost; binding up what’s broken and setting right all that’s wrong!

Day Thirteen // March 3 // Serving “I cannot do all the good that the world needs. But the world needs all the good that I can do.” – Jana Stanfield –

I have a friend who ordered an online present for his wife this past Christmas. The company responded that the item was on backorder and couldn’t be guaranteed by Christmas. They offered to refund the money paid or leave the item on order to be delivered whenever it arrived. My friend responded very graciously, “Thank you so much for the update. For as sad as it makes me, I completely understand your dilemma… I would like to maintain my order as is. I think my wife will absolutely LOVE this product. I’ll just print out a picture and wrap it up for under that tree!” He then wished the salesperson a Merry Christmas and God’s blessings upon them. This was a wonderful act of graciousness and kindness. But here is the rest of the story. Listen to

how the salesperson responded: “Thank you for your delightful attitude and the love that you have in your heart for others. This season has been so hard for us. Not getting shipments in. Trying to work safely here and protect each other and our families. It has been so overwhelmingly stressful. Your response has given me hope and I will share this with everyone here in the call center. Please continue to be the sunshine you are to others. You cannot understand how touched I am by this reply.” We never know. It’s amazing how little acts of kindness and service, that may seem insignificant to us, can bring God’s presence into the lives of others. When we care – so often it is the little moments, the smallest inconveniences that make the biggest impacts. Caring for another person might mean going against what’s on the planned agenda. It might mean grabbing rubber gloves and cleaning out moldy cupboards or letting the mess be for now and sharing a cup of coffee. Caring for someone might mean spotting them a dollar for a slice of pizza or simply smiling at the frazzled mother with wiggly children in the grocery line. When we serve, we must remember that we are the hands of Christ. It is not about us or what we do, it is about what Jesus wants to do through us. Rarely is our little bit the solution to people’s problems. We all have a natural inclination to want to either fix everything or to create distance from what we can’t fix. But when we seek to serve others in light of how Christ served us, we

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can take comfort in knowing we are rarely the whole solution, that we may be one small part of a much grander plan. God is the One who will bring true change to people’s lives and circumstances. It is our job to love people where they are. But this is not an excuse to wait for someone else to step in and help. The realization that we’re not the whole solution should give us the freedom to serve and to be the hands of Christ whenever the opportunity arises.

Day Fourteen // March 4 // Welcoming “There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.” – John Holmes –

One of the most powerful ways we’re invited to share in the work of Christ’s hands is to extend those hands in gracious welcome. Particularly to strangers. Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 25:35 should inspire us: “For I was hungry, and you gave me food; I was thirsty, and you gave me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.” There is an old story originating in a Russian Orthodox monastery in which an older monk tells a younger one: “I have finally learned to accept people as they are. Whatever they are in the world, a prostitute, a prime minister, it is all the same to me. But sometimes I see a stranger coming up the road, and I say, ‘Oh, my Lord, is it you again?’”

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We never know how our welcome can make a difference. We begin by listening to others. We need to pay attention and notice what is on people’s minds. In so doing, we can discover areas of commonality and get to know each other better. Our choice to pay attention now could be what creates a friendship at a later moment. We will never know how many opportunities were missed because we were too busy to pause for a conversation. Too, if we are to become a welcoming people, we need to be careful not to jump to conclusions about others. We may be surprised that very few people are what they seem at first glance. Just as God doesn’t judge the exterior, we should take the same approach. Rather than allowing our personal bias to determine our outlook, we should be open to forming new relationships. There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn not to judge things too quickly. So, he sent them each on a quest: he instructed them to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away. The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall. When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen. The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The

second son said, no, it was covered with green buds and full of promise. The third son disagreed; he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful; it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen. The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfillment. The man then explained to his sons that they were all right because they had each seen but only one season in the tree’s life. He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are and the pleasure, joy, and love that comes from a life can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up. Ultimately, there is only One who can judge a human heart. Our job is to love and to welcome all in His name: with Christ’s hands and with His heart. Who knows, when we least expect it, God can use us to fulfill Hebrews 13:2: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

Day Fifteen // March 5 // Comforting “Listen to God with a broken heart. He is not only the doctor who mends it, but also the father who wipes away the tears.” – Criss Jami –

One of the great promises of faith is found in Matthew 11:28-30 when Jesus said, “Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” What a tremendous promise! But the promise is accessed by people, through those who follow Jesus and who’re committed to being His hands in the world. An integral part of our discipleship should be the offering of comfort to people who are weary, carrying heavy burdens, and overwhelmed by the challenges of life. In those moments, we know that Jesus loves us but His

love is made manifest to the hurting through those who bear His name. The ministry of comfort is a work in which we all must share. As we participate, we need to remember that our words matter. To offer comfort, we must know that the most gracious words we can share when a person is dealing with loss are “I can’t imagine.” Those three words dignify another’s loss – their pain, and their feelings. Following the words, “I can’t imagine,” we should not be tempted to define their grief with our words. Insert no words such as pain, anger, devastation, hopelessness, helplessness, etc. Any word inserted is how we would feel and may or may not address their feelings. A heartfelt “I can’t imagine” is sufficient and compassionate. It communicates, “I care. You matter to me. I’m here to listen. You are in my prayers.” Our words matter, so we need to choose them wisely. Our intention is to comfort the hurting rather than deepening their wounds with our words, so we should pause a moment and consider carefully how we would feel hearing the words we are about to say. We should avoid platitudes or words that minimize another’s pain. Most importantly, we should not try to explain what God is doing in another’s suffering. God’s greater plan may take a long time to unfold, so we should withhold any words that might be misinterpreted as judgmental on our part. We learn that we don’t always know God’s plan – even when it seems painfully

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evident. Remember, we can be the hands of Christ in times of great trial. Our words can offer great comfort and peace. Those hurting will thank us for fewer words with deeper meaning! When people are hurting, remember our actions speak volumes. Little acts take on big importance in times of crisis. Show up. Listen. Give hugs. Bring food – whether a homemade casserole, a pre-sliced ham, turkey breast, or simply grab-and-go food. It matters not. What matters is that we show up… and that we keep showing up. Constantly keep in touch through phone calls or text messages. And if we leave a message, don’t expect a response. The very act of remembering brings comfort to people. And most of all, pray for that person. So often when we pray, God will put an idea in our head or heart regarding that person. Follow through on that nudge! It has a way of being what they most need. We are the hands of Christ. In a hurting world that needs Christ’s comfort, will we pray: “Lord here I am, send me. Use me to bring Your peace and rest!”

Day Sixteen // March 6 // Giving “Each generation is converted by the saint who contradicts it most.” – G.K. Chesterton –

In a generation obsessed with getting, we are called to be those radical, counter-cultural outliers who give. Following the example of our Lord, we have been posted to our battle stations to fight the good fight of faith. But it’s not a war waged with artillery or missile or tank. It’s a battle for the soul. It’s a battle fought with hands clasped in prayer, not clinched in fists. It’s one fought with open hands and open hearts. And in this conflict, victory’s definition is odd. It’s not the one on top who wins. Neither is it the one who has the most who wins; it’s the one who gives the most. Jesus, Himself, would say it. In talking about success, in talking about winning from a Kingdom perspective, He said, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35).

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It completely rewrites everything we were trained to shoot for. It completely rewrites everything we were brought up to work for and to want for. In fact, to live like that would cast us as complete contrarians to the “Me First” culture that surrounds us. And that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it’s actually a working definition of “holiness”: to stand out, to act different, to be weird for Jesus’ sake. And hands that give certainly fit that description. For such open-handed generosity points us (and all those watching us) to a higher, truer, and purer way of living: a life lived out of gratitude. A life lived and hands used for God and for others (Mark 12:28-34). And it all stems from a growing awareness of and a profound appreciation for all that we’ve been given. Sure, most of us have worked and studied and sacrificed to get to where we are, but do we realize that everything – every skill, every ability, every moment, every dollar, every opportunity, even every hardship that’s stretched us – has been a gift? It’s all something we’ve been given out of God’s grace. And He’s given it to us on purpose and for a purpose. There’s a reason you have what you have. There’s a reason you do what you do. The trick (and part of the invitation of Lent) is to discern what that reason is… and, then, to act – using our hands in service to the Lord and to the world He came to save.

WEEK FOUR: The Side of Christ

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me, but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.” – John 15:12-17 –

Day Seventeen // March 8 // The Pierced Side “Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity.” – Khalil Gibran –

On the cross, with arms outstretched and head crowned with mocking thorns, our Lord bowed His head in reverent prayer. And died. For you. And for me. He surrendered His life in stunning obedience that we might glimpse the extraordinary love of the Almighty. But even in death, His torment was not complete. The soldiers had orders. They had a mission to see accomplished. They had a job to see complete: Death. Lifeless and forlorn, the body of our Savior hung suspended halfway between the heavens above and the earth He came to save below. It was finished… but who could be sure? Certainty was what the governor

commanded. So, with cruel iron spear, the soldiers did their work, stabbing the tender side of Jesus. Sinews that had once stooped to reach the lowly, muscles that had once ached with noble laughter, now winced at the precision of Roman execution. Lungs that breathed righteousness and breath that spoke love were, now, pierced as a torrent of blood and water came streaming down. Like every other wound on our precious Lord’s body, there is a Truth here that needs to be learned: that the character of those with whom we share life – the influence of those we have at our side – is critical. Christianity is a social religion. It is meant to be lived in community. But how often do we stop to truly examine the relationships that we nurture? From the opening pages of the Bible, we see the lesson. It was from Adam’s side that Eve was created (Genesis 2:22). Those we fellowship with, those we journey with, those we speak to and learn from – they have tremendous influence over us. “Bad company corrupts good character,” Paul says in 1 Corinthians 15:33. It is critical, then, that we take the time to prayerfully discern the nature of those we allow close to our side: our friends and partners and acquaintances and companions. And what we find may astound us. Just look at those Jesus invited to His side. They weren’t the best. They weren’t the brightest. They struggled and argued and fell. But He saw something in them worth investing in.

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Jesus saw something in them no one else could. And, in bringing them close to His side, He changed their lives forever. We, as Christ’s followers and as members of His Body, are endowed with that same great strength: to walk side-by-side with others into the transformation God demands of all.

Day Eighteen // March 9 // Companionship “Shared joy is double joy. Shared sorrow is half sorrow.” – Swedish Proverb –

When Jesus began His ministry, He called followers to come and help Him fish for people. They traveled together, served together, and processed their experiences together. Literally, companionship is one of the hallmarks of the Christian faith. Not only were they involved in the work of ministry, deep bonds were formed around meals, in laughter around a campfire, and in the facing of impossible challenges together. Later the Apostle Peter summarized what they learned from Jesus: “Now that you have purified your souls by your obedience to the truth so that you have genuine mutual love, love one another deeply from the heart” (1 Peter 1:22). As the second century of Christianity began to unfold, the faith had spread throughout the Roman Empire – particularly to some of its great cities, like Rome

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and Carthage in North Africa. At that time, Christians were the objects of great suspicion from their neighbors and government officials because they had given up the behaviors of their previously pagan lifestyle. Wild rumors had begun to circulate in some places about what Christians actually taught and did in their meetings together. To clear the air and defend the good name of Christianity, a church leader in Carthage named Tertullian wrote a brief explanation of Christian practices and a critique of the unjust accusations that had been made against them. In his work, he wrote at one point that these attacks against Christianity were made out of jealousy because Christians displayed a character of life that their pagan neighbors did not possess. Tertullian wrote: “It is mainly the deeds of a love so noble that lead many to put a brand upon us. See how they love one another, they say, for they themselves are animated by mutual hatred; how they are ready even to die for one another, they say, for they themselves will sooner put to death.” What if those outside the faith could look at us and remark, “See how much they love one another!” If our Christian mission is combined with deep Christian companionship, then a powerful force for good is unleashed in the world. We live in a world hungering for companionship. Social isolation has led to fear and suspicion. Researchers tell us that 43% of Americans feel isolated from others and

have very few meaningful in-person social interactions. The antidote to this condition is companionship. It is the practice of presence and walking with others through life. It is the bringing of others to our side… or us coming alongside theirs. Companionship means spending time together. It is laughing at the silly moments and crying in the broken places. Companionship is rooted in five practices: • Hospitality. This creates a safe space, offering rest and refreshment in an often tense, confusing, and traumatic world. • Neighboring. This is an invitation to discover what we have in common with one another, set aside our power and privilege, and meet as equals. • Sharing the journey side-by-side. This calls us to look out at the world together, not imposing our priorities on others. • Listening. This practice is rooted in hearing another’s story without judgment. • Accompaniment. Walking through life with others, building a community of support and a circle of care. Lent bids us to reflect upon our journey of faith. To ponder what it means to be the side of Christ. Will we deepen our sense of Christian companionship? Will we live in such a way that the world will look at us and say, “See how they love one another?”

Day Nineteen // March 10 // Compassion “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” – Plato –

In his classic hymn “Love Divine All Love’s Excelling,” Charles Wesley captured the essence of Jesus’ ministry: “Jesus, Thou art all compassion, Pure unbounded love Thou art; Visit us with Thy salvation; Enter every trembling heart.” Isn’t it amazing that the way Jesus shares that pure, unbounded love with the world is through the compassion of His followers? The term compassion has its linguistic roots in the Latin terms com (with) and pati (suffering). We have compassion when we

set aside indifference and connect with those who are in pain. In a curious way, this seems to be a first step toward healing. To learn compassion, we should notice how Jesus related to people in the Gospels. When Jesus saw the blind men, for example, He “had compassion on them and touched their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed Him” (Matthew 20:34). When He saw groups yearning for his teaching, “He had compassion on them and healed their sick” (Matthew 14:14). Christ noted the confusion of the people in the crowd following Him, and “had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd” (Mark 6:34). All these examples of Christ’s compassion have two things in common. First, Jesus noticed the people around Him. This teaches us that compassion is only possible when we are tuned in to others. If we’re absorbed in our own feelings, problems, worries and desires, we will overlook the needs of those God puts in our path and ignore the opportunity to help them. Secondly, Jesus responded to people rather than reacting to them. He listens to the ten lepers rather than being irritated that they’re interrupting His conversation (Luke 17:12-19). He takes time to speak with the woman who touches the hem of His garment, instead of simply chastising her for lacking appropriate boundaries (Matthew 9:20). Compassion is a virtue that must be practiced. We need to continually practice putting ourselves in

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someone else’s shoes. When we watch the news or hear of trouble in our extended family, we need to consciously contemplate what it must feel like to that person. We don’t need to stay on the surface of life and think, “That must be awful.” Instead, we need to dive deeper into what people are suffering. We must be willing to enter into the pain of others – coming to their side and to their aid. We also need to recognize the barriers to compassion. It is impossible to be annoyed and compassionate at the same time. Frustration, suspicion, irritation, bitterness, dislike, and anger are all signs that we may be looking at others without compassion. We can pray to God to help us, “Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice” (Ephesians 4:31). When we remove these barriers, we tenderize our hearts with compassion!

Day Twenty // March 11 // Mercy “A man does not get grace till he comes down to the ground, till he sees he needs grace. When a man stoops to the dust and acknowledges that he needs mercy, then it is that the Lord will give him grace.” – Dwight L. Moody –

The old adage simplifies Christian doctrine. Justice is when we get what we deserve. Mercy is when we don’t get what we deserve. Grace is when we get what we don’t deserve. Our faith is rooted in mercy. Mercy is Jesus feeding the hungry. Mercy is Jesus healing the sick. Mercy is Jesus on the cross dying for our sins. Lent calls us to recognize who we are. To stoop down into the dust and own our flawed humanity. It is only in that place that the gift of mercy can become most dear to us. And then, we must know that the mercy extended to us must be given away to others. Jesus commanded us: “But love your enemies, do good,

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and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6: 35-36). The late Henri Nouwen used to teach a course on compassion. In it, he would tell the story of an experience he had while taking a sabbatical year from the faculty of Yale. He teamed up with a professor from Notre Dame, and they discussed between themselves what would be a scholarly subject worthy of their joint sabbatical. Quite contrary to the usual topics of academia, they determined they would spend a year researching compassion. Among other things, they decided to interview significant leaders. This took them to Washington, D.C., and to an appointment with then Senator Hubert Humphrey of Minnesota. They walked into his office and sat down as he remained behind his desk. Senator Humphrey said, “How can I help you?” Henri said in reply, “We’ve come to ask you, what is compassion?” The senator was taken aback by a most unusual question in a congressional office. He got up from behind his desk, came around, and sat with them. He then picked up a #2 pencil and said, “In our country the whole lead and yellow length of this pencil is competition. Then at the very end of it we have this little eraser, and that in our country is compassion. Ours is not a country based on compassion but rather

in its length and breadth is based on competition. But when we smear, blot, mess up things and people with our competition, we turn it around and, with this little fixer-up of what we have messed up, we tidy things with compassion.” That is one of the best definitions of mercy. Mercy is when we foul things up with our competition, only to repair the damage and to tidy up with compassion. Lent causes us to cherish the gift of mercy. But more than that, to extend mercy through our lives to point the way to our Savior!

Day Twenty–One // March 12 // Forgiveness “Forgiveness is the final form of love.” – Reinhold Niebuhr –

To live in faithful, God-honoring, Gospel-proclaiming relationships, we must learn to forgive. It is, perhaps, one of the most vexing disciplines for the Christian to achieve: forgiveness. In fact, forgiving a wrong done to us is sometimes more painful than the wrong, itself. And what we’ve experienced to be true is that it’s sometimes easier to forgive our enemies than it is to forgive our friends. It’s easier to forgive those at our fists than it is those by our side – those who should know better, those who should know us better. But life gets in the way. We hold onto those secret hurts. We cling to our hidden pains. We nurse them and pamper them. Instead

of lancing the blister that has grown atop our weary souls, we coddle it. We feed the grudge. We let it dictate our attitude. And, in the end, we let it control our life. This is not the way of faith. This is not the way of Christ – who was rejected by even those who’d served by His side. This is the way of the world – lost, pining, sinking. And it thwarts the victory we’re invited to know in Jesus Christ. It’s been said a thousand times: “To forgive is to set a prisoner free only to discover that the prisoner was you.” We don’t forgive for the sake of the other; we forgive for the sake of ourselves. It is, truly, one of the most blessedly selfish things that we can do. But we can’t do it on our own. We don’t have the power (nor, honestly, the willingness) to forgive those who have hurt us – especially those who’ve walked by our side. We can only forgive to the extent that we acknowledge that we’ve been forgiven, ourselves. It requires the courage of a totally surrendered life and the power of the Holy Spirit to enable us to move beyond what has, for years, held us back. Only God can move us onward. Only God can move us upward. Only God can heal the wounded side of those who’ve been betrayed.

Day Twenty–Two // March 13 // Strength “Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.” – Hermann Hesse –

It is natural to invite hope and joy and peace to accompany us on our journeys through life. We want them by our side, constant companions through all the churning, swirling vicissitudes of daily living. But what about the equally powerful, equally necessary companions of loss and sadness and pain? There is a depth, an unspeakable gravity to these emotions. But there is, too, a darkness, an emptiness, a fearful somberness that keeps us back. We don’t want to know the agony of grief. We don’t want to endure the humiliation of rejection. We want to keep life simple. We want to keep it light and cheerful – even if that means we keep it shallow.

We make this choice, though, at grave peril. “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead,” the Apostle Paul wrote (Philippians 3:10-11). He was making the connection between crucifixion and resurrection. Resurrection we like… crucifixion, not so much. But there is not one without the other. If we are truly to be the joyful people of Easter, we must submit to the suffering of Good Friday’s pains. And it requires extraordinary strength to ask them to attend our days. It requires strength and courage and an unyielding trust in the goodness of God to allow these darker emotions – sorrow and sadness – to teach us and to guide us. It requires an inordinate faith to invite them to our side – to invite them in, not as unannounced strangers we’re happy to see depart, but as friends and teachers and guides. It is that holy tension, that sacred balance to which God calls us: to laugh with those who laugh, and to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15), to be watchful and alert, to hold the brightness of today in one hand and the darkness of all our yesterdays in the other – knowing that God moves and works and heals in unexpected ways through His people, His Body, and those at His side: the Church.

WEEK FIVE: The Feet of Christ

Day Twenty–Three // March 15 // The Wounded Feet of Christ “No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another.” – Charles Dickens –

“Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so, she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’” – Luke 10:38-42 –

Isaiah painted a picture that captured the essence of Jesus’ life: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace, who brings good news, who announces salvation, who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns’” (Isaiah 52:7). How beautiful are the feet that traveled the dusty roads of Palestine announcing the good news of salvation. Those feet did not stay in the synagogue, debating with the wise ones of the day. Those feet traveled to the homes of tax collectors and into scenes of great grief over the death of a child. They walked

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with the outcast and the downtrodden. They walked where others feared to tread: into cemeteries, with the demon possessed, and caves, with people shunned with leprosy. Every step was a choice. Every step was a way of announcing that “our God reigns.” To those cut off from religion, He opened the doors. Jesus literally was the Good News in the flesh. And the most compelling moment of His life was when those feet showed us salvation. There on Rome’s gnarled cross, those feet were nailed. His mobility was not taken from Him; He gave it willingly. There, on that instrument of torture and execution, was the greatest choice, the greatest sacrifice of all time. He could have uttered one word and angels would have rescued Him. He suffered in that hour so that those wounded feet could lead the way to heaven. For faith, too, is always a choice. We choose to commit our lives to Jesus as Savior. And then, we choose to spend the rest of our lives following Him as Lord. During World War I, some Turkish soldiers tried to drive away a flock of sheep on a hillside outside of Jerusalem. The shepherd who was sleeping was suddenly aroused to see the sheep being driven off. Single-handedly, he could not hope to recapture his flock by force. Suddenly, he had an idea. Standing up on his side of the ravine, he put his hands to his mouth

and gave his own peculiar call which he used each day to gather the sheep to him. And his sheep heard it. For a moment they listened; and hearing it again, they turned and rushed down one side of the ravine and up the other – making it quite impossible for the soldiers to stop them. The shepherd took the sheep to a place of safety before the soldiers could make up their minds to pursue them. Likewise, the Good Shepherd whistles for us. The same places His feet traveled are the roads that beckon us. The same people that He loved are the ones to whom we are sent. The same message of salvation is the one we must proclaim. Lent calls us to go. To see life as an adventure. To follow our Shepherd all the way home. How beautiful are the feet that choose to answer that call!

Day Twenty–Four // March 16 // Surrendered “The reason why many are still troubled, still seeking, still making little forward progress is because they haven’t yet come to the end of themselves. We’re still trying to give orders and interfering with God’s work within us.” – A. W. Tozer –

His was a biography of submission. Born into the world He had created, from His first drawn breath, Jesus’ life was one of surrender. A King who surrendered His throne. The Lord who relinquished His awe. He was the Master who became the Servant of all. The Son of God and the Son of Man, Jesus emptied Himself (Philippians 2:7) to inhabit two worlds – and He did so perfectly. Perfectly obedient. Perfectly humble. Perfectly meek. With His every day – and especially with His last – our Lord showed us what it is to live in perfect relationship to God. And His feet told that story well. Calloused and rugged, worn by the miles that He’d walked, Jesus went where no one else would. He went to the outcast and marginalized. He went to the beat up and let down. By

the shores of the sea and in the wilderness, alike, He modeled for us what it is to surrender our every thought, word, and deed – our every step – to the Father. It was heroic. His love. His grace. His boldness. His redemption. The Good News He shared with those religion had long forgotten. It was heroic to leave the comfort and safety of the long-trod paths of tradition. It was heroic to stray from the well-lit boulevards of high-browed acceptability. It was heroic to follow God’s path – being the One God called Him to be, the One we needed Him to be. But He did so. He followed His calling, and He followed His feet into the ordinary and needy places where God, through Him, did the extraordinary. And we are commanded to follow the same path, to journey the same harrowing road. As has been said, we can’t rightfully call ourselves followers of the way of Jesus Christ if we’re not actually following Jesus. Is it scary? Sometimes. Is it challenging? Always. Is it worth it? Without a doubt! But it means that we will have to surrender. It means that we will have to depart from the broad and ever-widening paths of this world… but they never lead to the narrow gate of salvation, anyway (Matthew 7:13). It means that we will have to remove the comfortable slippers of middling and cultural Christianity we’ve worn for too long, to lace up our running shoes, our climbing shoes, our hiking boots, our combat boots. For these are the apparel of those clad to spread the “gospel of peace” (Ephesians 6:10-17). This is the surrendered way of real, life-giving faith.

Day Twenty–Five // March 17 // Available “In God’s kingdom, calling trumps credentials every time! God does not call the qualified. He qualifies the called. And the litmus test isn’t experience or expertise. It’s availability and teachability. If you are willing to go when God gives you a green light, He will take you to inaccessible places to do impossible things.” – Mark Batterson –

We know it’s true. God doesn’t use the best, but the most available and teachable. But in a world with more than can ever be done and opportunities that forever abound, how do we allow our feet to go where Christ wants them to go? We have to breathe and take some of the pressure off. A missed opportunity does not mean that a door closes. God never gives up on us. He never quits wooing us. Literally, God is the “Hound of Heaven” who will never quit pursuing us. The test of availability is to honestly assess our lives and ask: “To what opportunities do we say yes and to what do we say no?” We can so busy our lives with good

things that we miss the opportunity for better things that come our way. Likewise, we can be so locked into an agenda or thought pattern, that we are not available when life changing moments appear. To be the feet of Christ means we earnestly desire to go where Christ wants us to go. Maybe during these days of Lent, we need to be honest about what keeps us from being available: • Our need for control. We are afraid to surrender because we have a sneaking suspicion that God will ask us to do something that we don’t want to do. So, we keep our options open and fear committing ourselves to opportunities that arise. We fail to see that giving God control gives us freedom to try and to fail with grace. • Our fear of the unknown. We don’t like what we can’t see, know, or understand. Rather than owning the mystery of life; and searching and digging deeper, we keep God at arm’s length. • Our looking back instead of forward. We are always looking over our shoulder, beating ourselves up over the past, thinking about what happened rather than what could happen. We forget that, with God, every day is new and that there is always hope! Maybe during Lent, we should rework an old hymn. Maybe we should change “Lord, We are Able” to “Lord, We are Available.” And dare to be the feet of Christ – people who will go where He sends us!

Day Twenty–Six // March 18 // Approachable “For prayer is nothing else than being on terms of friendship with God.” – St. Teresa of Avila –

What a privilege is ours that God is approachable. We pray not to a distant Creator, quaking with fear that we might do something wrong. Instead, we pray to a God who loves us more than we can fathom, One who invites us to call Him Father. The very proof of God’s approachability was Jesus. The Gospel of John teaches us: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). And if we want to be the feet of Jesus, bringing the Good News to those who need to hear, then we need to learn to be approachable, too. We need to be people

with “yes faces” who invite people into our lives. We need to ask if the love of Christ is shining through us. Here are some ways to consider: • Smile • Be interested in others • Have open, engaged demeanor • Laugh at ourselves • Be vulnerable • Radiate energy • Show our liking for another person One of the great examples of approachability was our 34th President, Dwight D. Eisenhower. He was Chief of Staff to General George C. Marshall at the beginning of World War II. He was known for his friendly demeanor, treating people with respect and kindness. In fact, he engendered such trust that it helped him rise through the ranks to become the commanding general of the American forces in England. He had the perfect temperament to work with strong personalities like Winston Churchill and Charles de Gaulle. He was such an outstanding leader and diplomat that he was chosen to lead the Allied Forces on D-Day. Whenever associates described Eisenhower, there was one word that almost all of them, superiors or subordinates, used. It was trust. People trusted him. They liked him. They respected him for his values. British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, who had a prickly personality, didn’t think much of Eisenhower as a soldier, but he appreciated other attributes. “His real

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strength lies in his human qualities,” Montgomery said. “He has the power of drawing the hearts of men toward him as a magnet attracts the bit of metal. He merely has to smile at you, and you trust him at once.” Who knows how God will use us to open the door of faith for others? We simply need to be open, available, and most of all, approachable.

Day Twenty–Seven // March 19 // In the Holy Places “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” – C.S. Lewis –

In seminary, I had the great fortune of being in a preaching class with an African American student from the Black Church Tradition. He was an outstanding pastor and a terrifically gifted preacher. And as our class drew to its close, as our final exam, we had to preach a sermon to our peers. Mine was… let’s just say that I was a work in progress (and I still am). My friend’s sermon, though, was a powerhouse. It was gripping. It was enthusiastic. It was one of the best sermons I’d ever heard. Still to this day, I remember it: he entitled it, “Jesus Was Late for Church.” It was a remarkable exposition of an even more remarkable truth: that every place where Jesus went

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became a holy place. No longer was holiness confined to the Temple. No longer was it held behind woven curtains and stony walls. Every place Christ’s holy feet tread became somehow changed, somehow different: refreshed, refocused, reframed. Holy. Like ineffable footprints left across the thresholds of their souls, those who truly experienced the presence and power of the Lord were changed. Around the table with prostitutes. In the streets with tax collectors. When no one else would give them the time of day, Jesus gave them something far better: He simply gave them time. He gave them hope and meaning and worth. He showed them love and respect and a new, better way of living. And in doing so, the Lord transformed common mud into holy ground. But it was ground on which the religious insiders and spiritual powerbrokers of His day refused to stand. They were consumed with thoughts of power, privilege, and prestige; but Jesus was consumed with purpose. He never forgot why He was here. He never followed His feet into mischief, folly, or sin. He never neglected His mission. He never neglected us. The ground He stood on was always holy ground because of who (and Whose) He was. And, as His followers, as men and women in whom the Holy Spirit dwells, every place we go is holy, too. Let that thought wash over you for a moment. Think about the places

we’ve taken the Lord. And let it change you: the places you go and the things you do. Every space we occupy, every moment we inhabit is holy – saturated with the possibility of the divine. Like Jacob waking from his dream, we declare, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and [we were] not aware of it” (Genesis 28:16). Let us, then, as soot-footed pilgrims, return time and time again to that reality – to that holy ground and to those holy moments that remind us of who (and Whose) we are!

Day Twenty–Eight // March 20 // In the Broken Places “Brokenness is God’s requirement for maximum usefulness.” – Charles Stanley –

Hope is a delicate but stalwart thing. So, too, is trust… and honor and goodness and joy. So, too, are love and faithfulness and patience and peace. It seems the best and most worthwhile endeavors of the human experience come with great risk. They come with the risk of breakage. Hearts can be broken. Hopes can be crushed. Peace can be stolen, and joy destroyed. But there’s an amazing lesson we see in nature: that the same fires that devastate the forest make way for new growth to take root and bloom. Such is the truth of faith. Our following of Jesus Christ, our walking in lockstep with the Lord was never intended to be a vouchsafe insurance policy guaranteeing us a carefree

83 life without pain. It was never meant to insulate or isolate us from the woes of the world. Indeed, just the opposite is true. If we truly follow the way of the Savior, we will certainly see trouble – others’ and our own. We will certainly follow Him into the hard places, the dark places, the scary places, the broken places. But that’s only because, in faith, we know the way out. For it is in admitting and surrendering all our own brokenness that we ever begin to see that it’s precisely there – in our brokenness – that the Light creeps in through the cracks. Little flecks of goodness. Tiny acts of love. Like a candle in an otherwise unlit room, the light of God’s constant provision and care that can’t be snuffed out, the fact that He never leaves our side. And what we find, if we’re willing, is that the tender, wounded, broken places of our lives become the places of our own ministry. It’s the moment when my brokenness connects with another’s brokenness: that common ground becoming holy ground as we allow the everlasting Lord to use us in ways we could never have imagined. For God does not use perfect Christians (because they don’t exist); He uses redeemed sinners – those of us with a past, those of us with regrets and doubts and struggles. He uses us and all our brokenness to build bridges to those who’ve yet to hear – to those who’ve yet to believe His mercy and forgiveness and grace. “How beautiful are the feet of the ones who brings good news,” the Prophet Isaiah proclaimed in the midst

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of exile (Isaiah 52:7). Lost. Disparaged. On the verge of giving up, Israel would receive the glad tidings of freedom from the faithful heralds who ran their course with haste. And now, it’s our job: to use our feet, to run our race, to share the Good News of freedom and redemption. It’s ours to allow all our broken places to become holy places where Jesus’ love and atonement are made known.

WEEK SIX:

The Voice of Christ

“Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name; worship the Lord in holy splendor. The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is full of majesty. The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; the Lord breaks the cedars of Lebanon. He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, and Sirion like a young wild ox. The voice of the Lord flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, ‘Glory!’” – Psalm 29:2-9 –

Day Twenty–Nine // March 22 // Holy Silence “Silence is one of the hardest arguments to refute.” – Josh Billings –

His voice was powerful: healing the sick, calling the lost, raising the dead. And He had spoken of such lovely things. He’d spoken of love and mercy, of freedom and release and pardon. Undoubtedly, He was His Father’s Boy – for He was there, and He had heard almighty God speak creation into existence. Jesus was there when the Father had framed the heavens and flung the stars across the inky black expanse of newly created sky. He was there, and He had heard His Father bring the land from the seas and grant flight to the birds. God’s words were powerful. God’s words are powerful.

Jesus’ words were powerful. Jesus’ words are powerful. … and so, too, is their silence. “But when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, He did not answer. Then Pilate said to him, ‘Do you not hear how many accusations they make against you?’ But He gave him no answer, not even to a single charge, so that the governor was greatly amazed” (Matthew 27:12-14). They were amazed – not by what He had done, but by what He chose not to do. There was no vociferous defense. No begging for His life. No pleading for the very mercy He’d die to offer them. The same voice that had once calmed the seas, now let the tempest rage. He endured. He endured all the pain, all the sorrow, all the humiliation; He endured the injustice of it all. And He remained silent… letting His actions, letting a holy hush speak and teach a truth transcendent of words. As Isaiah had foretold: “He was oppressed, and He was afflicted, yet He did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so He did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). Our Savior’s silence was as potent as His speech. Indeed, years later, as Philip approached the Ethiopian eunuch, it was this very passage of Isaiah that God used to draw his curious heart towards Home (Acts 8:26-38).

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Do we know the sacred power of silence? Silence that convicts, silence that confronts, silence that compels our broken hearts towards Home. Just because we don’t hear the Lord’s dulcet voice does not mean that He is absent. It just means that He does not move amidst the noise – the noise that distracts, the noise the deters, the noise that would deaden our ears to wonder. It just means that we must train our souls to heed the silence, for it has much to say.

Day Thirty // March 23 // Preaching “It is no use walking anywhere to preach unless our walking is our preaching.” – St. Francis of Assisi –

You and I are called to be the voice of Christ speaking to our world. Preaching is not merely the domain of the ordained or those who occupy a pulpit. Every day, in the places we go and amongst the people we meet, we can be the voice of Christ proclaiming good news and hope to the world. A great example of this was St. Francis of Assisi, who lived some eight hundred years ago. In Francis’ call from God, he heard a distinct summons to put the teachings of Jesus into practice. Francis wrote: “As for me, I desire this privilege from the Lord, that never may I have any privilege from man, except to do reverence to all, and to convert the world by obedience to the

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Holy Rule rather by example than by word.” Francis had a deep commitment to both the proclamation and embodiment of the Gospel. He lived with the tension of the words we speak and the way that we put those words into action. He walked away from family wealth to take a vow of poverty. It is said that he would go to the extravagant parties of the wealthy and preach the Gospel. When walking the streets of Assisi, he would preach to those he met. He was even said to preach the Good News to birds! Our lives should preach what we believe about Jesus. This idea was on Paul’s mind when he wrote, “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family” (Romans 8:29). But a question arises: Do we have a clear understanding of what we believe and how we want our life to speak? We need to sharpen our intent if we want to improve our effectiveness. Years ago, George Gallup wrote, “Never before in the history of the United States has the Gospel of Jesus Christ made such inroads while at the same time making so little difference in how people actually live.” The challenge of Lent is to learn from St. Francis and the Spirit who called him to serve. We should not sit on the sidelines and bemoan the state of the world. We

begin our ministry right in front of us, with the people that we meet. Maybe our biggest audience will be the birds in our backyard. So be it. We need to let our lives speak. And in our own feeble ways, may the voice of Christ speak through us. We sang it years ago in youth group:

“I have decided to follow Jesus; I have decided to follow Jesus; I have decided to follow Jesus; No turning back, no turning back. The world behind me, the cross before me; The world behind me, the cross before me; The world behind me, the cross before me; No turning back, no turning back. Though none go with me, still I will follow; Though none go with me, still I will follow; Though none go with me, still I will follow; No turning back, no turning back. Will you decide now to follow Jesus? Will you decide now to follow Jesus? Will you decide now to follow Jesus? No turning back, no turning back.”

Day Thirty–One // March 24 // Teaching “Kids don’t remember what you try to teach them. They remember what you are.” – Jim Henson –

Jesus was the greatest teacher who ever lived. He constantly shared lessons about the nature of God. His example of relating to people showed us how to put into practice what He taught. We, who have been touched by His voice, must understand that we are all teachers of the Gospel. We never know who is watching or listening to what we say. But we teach nevertheless! A few months ago, I was having dinner with a friend. My friend asked our waiter for some salt, and the waiter misunderstood and brought us a refill of a basket of bland, tasteless muffins. We thanked the waiter and smiled at our misunderstanding. As the meal continued,

my friend quietly ate one of the muffins. He did not say a word about what he believed about respect and kindness. He did not say a word about how difficult that waiter’s job was during COVID-19. His simple action taught me volumes about what Jesus’ life was about. We are all called to be teachers of the Gospel. We should spend some time reflecting on what it means to be a good teacher. We all have our own personalities, talents, and strengths. And yet, there are some basic traits that all effective teachers have. We must be mindful of these important attributes: • Importance of communication. Communication is both verbal and non-verbal. We need to have a sense of whether we are connecting with others. Good communicators desire to connect. When we are not understood, we should paraphrase, illustrate, or take another tact entirely. • Superior listening skills. As the Turkish proverb says, “If speaking is silver, then listening is gold.” Good teachers ask important questions; more, they then listen intently to what learners have to say. They have patience in the process. • Develop strong relationships. President Theodore Roosevelt said: “People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.” A sense of empathy allows people to connect at a deeper level than merely the subject at hand.

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• Passion for the subject. William Butler Yeats put it best: “Education is not the filling of a pail but the lighting of a fire.” When we are excited about the Gospel and fired up to help people, our enthusiasm is contagious. Through the centuries, Christ still teaches; and today, He wants to use our voice to get His message out. Lent challenges us to consider the important lessons of life and the power of the faith we are teaching!

Day Thirty–Two // March 25 // Calling “God did not direct His call to Isaiah. Isaiah overheard God saying, ‘. . . who will go for Us?’ The call of God is not just for a select few but for everyone. Whether I hear God’s call or not depends on the condition of my ears, and exactly what I hear depends upon my spiritual attitude.” – Oswald Chambers –

The call of God is not just for a select few, but for everyone. The call of God is not reserved for ordained clergy, but for every follower of Jesus. Each one of us is gifted for a reason. Real joy comes when we discover our purpose; and then, give our lives to that calling. In the early 1950s, a young man in Argentina had a day off from school. He planned to do what most teenagers would do with a day off: meet up with his girlfriend and classmates to have a good time. On his way to meet up with his friends, he passed by his local church and felt compelled to go inside. Later he would say, “I went in; I felt I had to go in – those things you feel inside and you don’t know what they are.”

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As he walked inside the church, it was dark, and he saw a priest whom he’d never seen before. Again, he felt compelled to action: “I felt like someone grabbed me from inside and took me to the confessional.” During his time in confession, the teenage boy had a profound experience with God’s mercy. It was so dramatic that he later described it as being knocked off a horse. Instead of meeting up with his friends, he spent the rest of his day off from school in the church contemplating God’s mercy. The moment was so defining for him that he was convinced he was called to be a priest. Just a few years later, this young man dreamed of becoming a missionary priest to Japan and joined the Jesuit order. Eventually, he would become a bishop, then a cardinal — and eventually, Pope Francis. Pope Francis’ experience describes for us a call. It is an inner leading that turns into a compulsion. It is the sense of something bigger in our lives, of Someone bigger in our lives. And ultimately, God speaks in such a profound way that it’s like being knocked off a horse. Notice how we live into a call. With baby steps. With listening and talking with others. By discerning that sense of God’s leading. And, then, by acting and following dreams. Very rarely do our initial dreams become our destiny. But in following the call, God leads us to a better place than we could ever imagine.

Through this Lenten journey we have all been discerning God’s call to be the: • Body of Christ • Mind of Christ • Hands of Christ • Side of Christ • Feet of Christ • Heart of Christ May we listen and hear that call that comes from our Savior. As Jesus began His ministry, Mark recorded this moment: “As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, He saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ And immediately they left their nets and followed him” (Mark 1: 16-18). Jesus calls us to follow Him and become fishers of people. Will we leave our nets and follow?

Day Thirty–Three // March 26 // Confronting “Jesus claims rule over all of heaven and earth. He presents himself not as one possible path to God, but as God himself. We may choose to disbelieve him. But he cannot be one truth among many. He has not left us that option.” – Rebecca McLauglin –

I grew up in a house rather different than most. I never – not once – saw my parents arguing. I never heard them fight. To this day, I’ve never heard them mutter a cross word about the other. And it was really, really special… but it meant that I never knew that conflict could be constructive. I didn’t have a model of what healthy arguing looked like. In fact, when my wife and I first started dating, and as we really started getting serious – I mean serious to the point that we had what a buddy of mine calls “heated fellowship” – I was really worried. I thought, “Man, I stink at relationships. I’ll never be a good husband; I’ll never be a good father.”

And it took time, it took years for us to learn how to fight well, how to have those critical, constructive confrontations. I’m told that it’s a “personality thing” – that some of us are comfortable with confrontation and others of us (most of us, I reckon) are not. Instead, we learn how to hold it all in… until we don’t. We wallow and stew until, one day, it gets to be too much, and we explode – unleashing years of venom and poison into our relationship. And we can’t un-hear those words. We can’t un-ring that bell. Confrontation is a good and necessary thing so long as it’s done well, so long as it’s controlled and measured and proportional and fair. It’s a good and necessary thing so long as it’s not “me vs. you” but “us vs. our problem.” And Jesus knew that well. More, He did that well. He was aware that, sometimes, the real toxicity of a situation isn’t in the confronting of it, but in the denial of it, in our blithe looking-the-other-way. And He cared too much for us to allow us to wallow in our sinful, broken, helpless state. He confronts us. With love and gentleness and concern, He confronts us. In our pride, He confronts us with humility. In our wickedness, He confronts us with holiness. In our excuses and denials and all our reasons why not, He confronts with all the reasons why. He cares too much to see us languish. So, with His merciful and powerful voice – spoken through His Word, spoken through times

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of prayer, spoken through trusted and godly friends – He calls us out. He calls us up. He calls us on. With His voice, He calls us to repent of all that made it necessary for Him to suffer and die for our sake… and in so doing, He calls us home.

Day Thirty–Four // March 27 // Blessing “Blessed are…” – Matthew, Chapter 5 –

With two little words (actually, only one in Matthew’s Greek or Jesus’ Aramaic), our Lord inaugurated His earthly ministry. With two little words, He unveiled the Kingdom’s truth. Blessedness… but not the blessedness we’d always imagined or hoped for. “Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn. Blessed are the meek and the hungry and the persecuted. Blessed are you when you are reviled and despised and rejected. Blessed are you when you have nothing; for, in Me, you still have everything.” Honestly, it isn’t exactly what we want to hear. We want to hear blessings of prosperity. We want to hear blessings of health and wealth and ease. We want our

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homes to flow with milk and our jobs to drip with honey. But that isn’t the Kingdom our Savior came to install; for His is not a realm of upward mobility, but always of downward – down to the least, down to the lowly, down to the lonely and losing and lost. His Kingdom is not one of finding ourselves. It’s one found in losing ourselves (Luke 9:24). That’s what it is to be blessed. And He didn’t just speak of this Kingdom. He showed it. He lived it. And He died for it. It is a radical thought, a radical and threatening departure from the ways that we’ve known and accepted. It’s a way of living (living for God and living for others) that challenges the very values and power-structures of our world. That’s why the world turned against Him – rejecting His blessings in lieu of the fool’s gold we still covet in our hearts. Maybe it is, then, that we need to redefine and reframe how we hear and what we believe about the blessedness of the Lord. And maybe the first step is simply being grateful: grateful for all that we have… and even for all that we don’t. Maybe we need to learn to thank God for all that He’s given… and for all that He’s chosen to withhold – trusting that He knows what’s best. For it is in gratitude, in gracious living that our eyes are opened to see the glory of each sacred gift, the blessing of even the hard gifts we struggle to give thanks for. Thank You for my hardships, Lord; for in them, I have known Your provision.

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Thank You for my weaknesses, Lord; for in them, I have felt Your strength up close. Thank You for my doubts, Lord; for in them, I’ve heard Your understanding. Thank You for my struggles, Lord; for in them, I’ve seen Your hand at work. Thank You for our wounds, dearest Lord; for in them, You made – and are making us – more like Yourself: courageous and victorious and blessed.

WEEK SEVEN: The Heart of Christ

Day Thirty–Five // March 29 // The Broken Heart of Christ

– Matthew 6:21 –

“‘Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.” – Miguel de Cervantes –

During these somber days of Holy Week, as the body of our Lord is abused and rejected, may the echoes of God’s love move you and stir you; may they awaken you to the reality that Jesus endured all this for you... and may you find yourself forever changed by the love and victory that Calvary proclaims!

Three times. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus cries three times. Once by the tomb of His friend. Once in the garden of His betrayal. And once over the city of His death. “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace – but now it is hidden from your eyes,” He’d cried (Luke 19:42). His heart – fashioned by the very hands of God and birthed from the womb of woman – was breaking. It was breaking for the sins of the world. It was breaking for the coldness and the hardness and the seeming indifference He saw.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

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What Jerusalem could not manufacture. What Rome could not enforce. What Athens could not conceive. Peace. Peace of heart and mind and soul. And it broke His heart – all our waywardness and wantonness, all our stubborn willfulness. That we would choose anything over peace, that we would choose anything over Him: it was heartbreaking. And He had tried. He’d tried to tell us. He’d tried to show us. He’d tried to woo and cajole and compel our believing, but it was hidden from our eyes. Instead, we mounted Him on a colt and led Him through the streets – waving palms to the King we’d soon crown with thorns. “Hallelujah!” we’d shouted. “Lord, save!” we’d roared. But save us from what? We did not know. Save us from Caesar? Save us from Rome? No, save us from ourselves. Save us from sin and evil and death. Save us from all the powers of darkness that hold us in dread sway. And our ignorance broke His heart. But, still, He came. Perfectly aware of all that would soon take place, He came – undaunted, undeterred, undelayed. He came for you and for me. The fault lines of His soul emblazoned with our names, He came to show us what only holy and broken hearts can do: to deny oneself, to pick up a cross, and to follow onwards (Luke 9:23).

Day Thirty–Six // March 30 // The Unbroken Heart of Christ “When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it but all that had gone before.” – Jacob Riis –

Jesus begins the fateful last week of His earthly sojourn by confronting a religious system that had lost its way. Matthew records the moment: “Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, ‘It is written, “My house shall be called a house of prayer;” but you are making it a den of thieves’” (Matthew 21:12-13).

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Jesus came to make God accessible and approachable. He came to make God known. And right away, He came face to face with worship practices that pushed people away. The poor were being taken advantage of by extreme exchange rates. The laws for animal sacrifice were being twisted for financial gain. The Temple practices had become so rigid and heartless that their original meanings, born in the wanderings of the desert, had been long forgotten. So is the danger of tradition that has forgotten its story. Worship practices can become calcified and lose their power. Self-interest can cloud the comprehension of the depth of God’s love. And Jesus shows us in these moments that we must speak out, that we must stand up and try to right these wrongs. Jesus decided, “I’m going to do something about this, even if they kill me.” And we know that is exactly what would happen. He hit them in their pocketbooks; and later, they hit Him with a cross. But the story doesn’t end with this note of righteous anger. Immediately after this dramatic scene of cleansing the Temple, Jesus would bring the lame and blind and maimed into the holy place of worship. There, He heals them. This is significant because the authorities did not permit “those sorts of people” into the Temple. They believed them to be flawed and bearing the wrath of God because of their condition.

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Not Jesus. He says in effect, “The Temple is not here to exploit the people. The Temple is here to bring healing to the people. They are precious children whom God deeply loves!” Right away, the stage is set. Right away, the gauntlet is thrown. Right away, the practice of the Law is confronted with the heart of the Law. And the religious elite couldn’t stand it. They seethe, and they brood. And they plot their next move. The tension of this moment is palpable. How honest are we with our traditions? How often do we stand up for those who are struggling? How often do we take risks for those who feel excluded by God’s love? This week begs us to struggle with these questions.

Day Thirty–Seven // March 31 // The Selfless Heart of Christ “Time is the brush of God, as he paints his masterpiece on the heart of humanity.” – Ravi Zacharias –

Three momentous days have passed. Sunday brought the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. On Monday, there was the cleansing of the Temple and the laments over Jerusalem’s lack of faith. Tuesday was an exhausting day of teachings by Jesus and trick questions by His opponents. And then, Wednesday seemed to be a quieter day. It seems that Jesus and His followers would spend the day in Bethany. According to Matthew’s Gospel, the day began with an ominous warning: “When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples,

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‘You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified’” (Matthew 26:1-2). Jesus and the twelve likely spent a leisurely sort of day. Matthew reports it is at the home of Simon the Leper (Matthew 26:6-7). As the afternoon moved on, though, a fascinating moment occurs: “A woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. ‘Why this waste?’ they asked. ‘This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.’ Aware of this, Jesus said to them, ‘Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her’” (Matthew 26:7-13). The act of anointing Jesus may have happened more than once; in the four Gospel accounts of this moment, there are differences in both the details and the timeframes. But the meaning of her actions makes a powerful point that we should notice. Jesus sees this woman’s actions as symbolizing the anointing of his body for burial. Jesus is clearly moved by her act of devotion and insight.

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His response to the disciples’ indignation seems, on the surface, very un-Jesus-like. In His answer, He calls out their hypocrisy. He is not slighting the poor; instead, He’s reminding us that the worship of God and obedience to love are higher goods than even the care of the poor. Serving the poor is not to be set in opposition to serving God. They are related, but God always comes first. The worship of God comes first and is meant to fuel our charitable and just works. Further, set in the light of the looming passion, the dying One takes precedence over the poor ones. This woman’s act of love lives throughout time. We get so busy practicing our faith by going and doing. Sometimes, we simply need to pause and lavish love on Jesus. Sometimes, we simply need to worship and adore the One who saves us. Sometimes, we simply need to linger in deep appreciation for what we have been given. This is Wednesday of Holy Week. It was a calmer day, a day spent among friends. Yet, over in Jerusalem, Satan is entering into one of the twelve, setting a betrayal in motion. And the storm clouds gather.

Day Thirty–Eight // April 1 // The Humble Heart of Christ (Maundy Thursday) “Pride makes us artificial; humility makes us real.” – Thomas Merton –

They had gathered around a table. They’d dined on bread and wine and herbs. They had shared tales and wholesome laughter. They’d heard His holy words. But there were two – only two – who knew what was to come. It was only Jesus and Judas who knew how that night would end. Even so, Jesus stooped. The King of the world, taking basin and towel, stooped. Assuming the lowly role of a servant, He knelt before each of them – even the one who would soon betray Him into the hands of suffering – and He washed their feet. Holy hands cleansed common mud from the feet of wayward sinners.

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Knowing His time with them was short, He ensured they understood: “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord – and you are right, for that is what I am. So, if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (John 13:12-15). The humility of that moment. It’s depth of feeling, its kaleidoscopic love: that the Savior would serve we, sinners. Its power is overwhelming, and its invitation is unreserved. As we have been loved, so must we love. As we have been healed, so must we heal. As we have been forgiven, so must we forgive. In “Mere Christianity,” C.S. Lewis puts it thus: “As long as you are proud, you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down you cannot see something that is above you.” It is not sin that keeps us from God. God knows how to deal with sin. And it’s not doubt. God can handle that, too. It’s pride. Pride that first bid us taste the forbidden fruit of Eden, pride that first turned our backs to the Lord. It’s pride that urges us think that we know best and how and why. In the person and body and heart of Christ, though, we see another way, a better way of living: one that’s stooped. Stooped in humble service. Stooped in obedient faith. Stooped in powerful worship. Stooped to redeeming Love!

Day Thirty–Nine // April 2 // The Willing Heart of Christ (Good Friday) “…nevertheless…” – Jesus –

It had all led to this moment. The prayers. The miracles. The miles. They led to this one, cataclysmic moment as all the powers of hell and earth waged war against Perfection. And it started in a place where many things start in the Bible: it started in a garden. It started in a garden where He might have played as a young boy, under the same gnarled branches from which He may have swung. It started with honest and bloody tears as He gave Himself over to the perfect plan of God – willingly, willfully choosing to surrender: “Nevertheless.” With that one word, all the angels found their footing. With that one word, the demons howled and

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sang and hissed. With that one word, the moment – the culmination of the ages – began as that whispered sigh of surrender turned to mob’s loud shouts of “Crucify!” The battlelines had been drawn. Heaven and hell had staked their claim. Across the beaten body of our Christ, the war would be fought. The cruelty. The mocking. The unflinching spite. His face grew bruised from the punches. His back ran crimson from the whip. But, still, He pressed on – carrying His cross towards Golgotha. … and carrying more. He was carrying you. And He was carrying me. His hate-ravaged, love-compelled body carried all that we couldn’t carry for ourselves. All our brokenness and sin and shame. All our hurts and sorrow and grief. He was carrying our every burden and regret. He carried it all: our addictions, our burdens, our worries, our fears, our grudges, our ego, our doubts, and our tears. He carried all this for us. On holy arms the darkness could neither weaken nor defy, Christ carried the weight of the world as sacred flesh was pierced by Rome’s cruel spikes. His body, His brow, His feet, His side: this pulpit of the cross became His final sermon. And after agonizing hours suspended between two thieves, our Savior’s life was taken. No, not taken; not stolen as was the thieves’ practice.

It was given. And it was finished. The earth quaked. The veil tore. And, in celestial mourning, the sun refused to shine. For earth’s dim light had no right to gleam when holy Light had been snuffed. It was over. His body was perfectly, tragically, beautifully wounded. But His life and His death mean little if He died only for the world. We must know – we must believe – that He did all of this for us; that He died for us, that in His body, He suffered so that we might live. Live – not just survive. All of this – as gruesome and ugly as it be – He did that we might know and savor and trust the beauty of His love for us.

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Day Forty // April 3 // The Stilled Heart of Christ (Holy Saturday) “Waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one’s thoughts.” – Elisabeth Elliot –

Holy week is a roller coaster of emotions. From the highs of the Triumphal Entry with palms waving, to the testing and teaching, to the raw emotion of the Last Supper and the Garden of Gethsemane, to the brutal, gripping horror of the cross. And then, Jesus is buried. The story seems to be over. But Saturday arrives. The word for this day is: Lacuna. Lacuna is an empty space, a gap, a missing portion in a book or manuscript. In the great story of Jesus’ life, this is that empty space between the cross and the resurrection.

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And while the religious elite were breaking the Sabbath law, begging Pilate for extra guards and security to prevent His disciple’s possible mischief; those disciples aren’t plotting a way to steal Jesus’ body. Instead, they are wallowing in the silence and unanswered prayers of Saturday. Jesus is still dead. He’s still in the grave. They are probably terrified that they are next, that the mere association with Jesus will lead to their crucifixion. They’re grieving the loss of a friend and teacher. They’re humiliated. They really believed that He was the Messiah, the Savior of the world. But doubt creeps in. In their shock, they forgot. They forgot the warnings of the cross. They forgot the promises of what would be. They could not see beyond the pain of their circumstances. They forgot His concerned words just two days before: “Very truly, I tell you, you will weep and mourn, but the world will rejoice; you will have pain, but your pain will turn into joy. When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world. So you have pain now; but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (John 16: 20-22). If we are honest, we are strangely comforted by the story of the disciples on that Saturday. We are not alone in not fully understanding God’s silence. The

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disciples had lost hope completely. They were confused and shocked by the silence of that Saturday. Their doubt caused them to abandon the cause completely and stop believing in what Jesus taught. But despite the silence, Jesus promises that joy is coming. In our times of pain, grief, misunderstanding, and confusion, remember it is just Saturday. In those moments where we are left wallowing in the silence of God and in unanswered prayers, it’s just Saturday. When we are stuck in our darkest moments, remember that Saturday is just a lacuna. The story is not over. It is merely a pause. We can hold on to this promise – one that Jesus gave His disciples some two thousand years ago: joy is coming… a joy that no one can take away.