Lent: Rescue Through Deliverance

Pastor John has been taking us on a journey through this Lenten season, a journey of rescue. We have looked at how the rescuing love of God pursues us and rescues extravagantly, radically, and personally. This week we heard about how the rescuing love of God brings deliverance when we are enslaved.

Our passage this week is Exodus 6:6-7:

Therefore tell the Israelites: “I am God. I will bring you out from under the cruel hard labor of Egypt. I will rescue you from slavery. I will redeem you, intervening with great acts of judgment. I’ll take you as my own people and I’ll be God to you. You’ll know that I am God, your God who brings you out from under the cruel hard labor of Egypt.” (MSG)

The Israelites were slaves in a foreign land. Pastor John told us that to be a slave to the Egyptians was to be completely stripped of one’s dignity; it was as though even their rights to be seen as a person were removed. They were living—calling it “living” is a stretch—in a land they were not created for. They were far from home. They were seen as less than human and they began to forget their identity. They forgot that they bore the Imago Dei–the very image of God.

Sometimes we forget that, too.

We are all image-bearers of our Creator. Every one of us who has ever lived and will ever live bears the image of the one who made us. Everyone. Full stop.

When we meet the love of Jesus, the image of God comes alive in us. It changes how we think, what we say, what we do, how we see, and—more than anything else—how we love. As we grow in him, we begin to look more like him. We follow in the steps of our self-emptying God and as we are emptied of ourselves, we become like Jesus.

But sometimes we lose our way.

Sometimes the pull of power, fame, wealth, safety, health, security—all branches of the tree of selfish ambition—feel too strong for us to resist. Instead of emptying ourselves to be filled up with the Spirit and her kingdom fruits, we gorge ourselves on the bread of self-indulgence and find ourselves enslaved in a land we weren’t made for. This land erects walls around us, holding us hostage to the god of consumerism, conquering us with promises of safety, getting us drunk on the wine of power and wealth. The walls keep rising, holding us captive, blinding us to what lies just beyond. The pace keeps quickening, we’re out of breath; our gods demand more and more from us as we become further enslaved to them. They stuff us full of lies and strip us of our hope. The noise level keeps rising, the cacophony is maddening—

Until, suddenly, a voice breaks through…

“The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:14, NIV)

“I will rescue you…I will redeem you…” (from Exodus 6:6-7)

“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you [from captivity]; I have called you by name; you are Mine!” (Isaiah 43:1b, AMP)

The walls fall, the mountains crumble. The gods who held us captive are nowhere to be found.

It is silent.

All that exists is us and the God who pursues us even when our mouths are too full of our own gluttony to utter a single cry for help. The rescuing, radical, extravagant love of God comes to us personally to deliver us from our bondage—whatever that bondage might be. Because that’s what love does. That’s Who love is.

We are in a unique season, all of us. It looks different depending on our physical locations in the world, but the whole of humanity is experiencing this tragedy together. We are finding ourselves more isolated and less connected in spaces where there is less noise. We are being forced to slow down. . .

When we pause, when we get quiet, hidden things can rise to the surface. Tragedy, crisis, fear, grief—when imposed upon us, these things can be very revealing. Our response to them can uncover our bondage. Many of us may be coming face-to-face with the truth of what we have been enslaved to, the things that have tried to crush the image of God out of us.

It can be hard to face the truth. But Jesus is the author of truth. He is the truth that sets us free. And when we look into his face, we see eyes of compassion, eyes that weep with us, that see into our darkest corners and choose to look at what they find there. Eyes that reflect into our own the truth of who we are–if we have the courage to behold him, to look up at the one who always comes for us.

There are some suggesting that God shut down the stadiums, the concert venues, the economy, even our churches because we made idols of celebrities, money, and leaders, because we worshiped them instead of him. There are voices yelling loudly of God’s jealousy and refusal to come second in our lives, saying that what the world is experiencing is a result of our wickedness and idolatry. There is more being said, words that point a finger at certain people groups and wag it hard in judgement of specific sins. I won’t repeat some of what I’ve heard and read because I don’t want to further spread the hate and arrogance that sometimes masquerades as righteousness. There are many voices clamoring to be heard–theories abound and flourish in the fertile soil of fear.

I can’t subscribe to the picture of God these assertions paint.

I can, however, run into the open, welcoming arms of the God who is weeping with a hurting world, speaking peace to anxious hearts, standing by the bedside of those dying alone, and guiding the minds and hands of those providing care. I can trust the God who, as Pastor John said Sunday, can bring beauty, goodness, and wholeness from even the worst of circumstances. This God—the God I know is kind and good and full of compassion. He pursues us with a reckless love and brings us tenderly back into his arms while we still reek of the perfume of other lovers.

He comes to us in our bondage and he is relentless and extravagant with his love until we are freed. When nobody else can see us, he sees. When no one wants us, he would do anything to win our hearts back. When we are afraid and enslaved to gods of our own making, he doesn’t send plagues to set us straight, he tells us we need only be still and fear not—he is with us. All of us. He can’t bear the thought of losing even one, because his radical, rescuing, extravagant love is a personal love, strong enough to deliver us from anything. Anything. Even ourselves…

–Laura

Laura emphasizes an excellent point– one that I want to begin with. God is not cruel. God is not mad, and [God] comes to us in our bondage and he is relentless and extravagant with his love until we are freed.

God. Is. Love (1st John 4:8)   

Love is large and incredibly patient. Love is gentle and consistently kind to all. It refuses to be jealous when blessing comes to someone else. Love does not brag about one’s achievements nor inflate its own importance. Love does not traffic in shame and disrespect, nor selfishly seek its own honor. Love is not easily irritated or quick to take offense. Love joyfully celebrates honesty and finds no delight in what is wrong. Love is a safe place of shelter, for it never stops believing the best for others. Love never takes failure as defeat, for it never gives upLove never stops loving. (1st Corinthians 13:4-8 TPT)

God. Is. Love.

Christ is the visible image of the invisible God. (Colossians 1:15) Jesus is love. 

AND… as Laura reminded us above…Jesus is truth (John 14:6) and, through knowing Jesus, we can know the truth and the truth will set us free. (John 8:32) Jesus will set us free.

The above truths are what everything else I write today will be founded upon: Jesus is God, God is love, God’s love looks like 1st Corinthians 13, and Jesus (THE Truth) sets us free. 

Let’s go back to Exodus 6 and the situation of slavery that God’s people had suffered under for 400 years. Was it God’s fault that the Israelites were slaves, or was it because the human heart, when left to its own ways leans toward oppression, acquisition, control, and violence? I believe it’s the latter.

So, Exodus 6 begins with God introducing himself to Moses, who’s been in exile for a number of years because he killed an Egyptian who was beating an Israelite putting his own life in danger so he ran away. (Using violence to solve violence doesn’t lead to good outcomes). Yet, God, who is love, comes to this exiled murderer and introduces himself, then invites Moses to be the leader of Israel’s deliverance. Moses’ first commission as deliverer is to relay a message to the Israelites, the message of Exodus 6:6-7 that Laura wrote out above. In that message God says:

I am the Lord…

I will bring you out…

I will deliver you from slavery…

I will redeem you…

I will take you to be mine…

I will be your God…

You will know I am the Lord your God…

You will know I brought you out from under your burdens…

Moses delivered the message, and the Israelites “did not listen to him because of their discouragement and harsh labor.” (Ex. 6:9)

If we’re familiar with the story, we know that things got even harder for the Israelites, but eventually they were set free and Moses led them; however, there were still obstacles, still hardships, still uncertainty, still foes and battles, still fear–so much so that at one point the people wanted to choose a new leader and go back to Egypt. (Numbers 14:4) . Slavery felt safer, slavery felt more certain, at least as slaves they knew what to expect, and I think they had forgotten what bondage felt like.

We can scoff at that mindset until we realize we have it too. In the Exodus rescue, an entire people group, a nation, was being set free. Nations are made up of individuals, and as Moses, Joshua and Caleb demonstrate, there were those in the people group who trusted God and wanted to follow God’s ways, and others who weren’t. As we move through the Old Testament, we see over and over that when the nation (or the kings) got enamored with wealth, power, acquisition–or when there was no king and “the people did whatever seemed right in their own eyes.” (Judges 17:6 & 21:25), God raised up a prophet to draw the people’s hearts back to their loving, rescuing God. Over and over the people (as a whole) ignored the prophets, imprisoned the prophets, killed the prophets, and continued their self-sufficient, self-destructive pursuits, which led them into bondage, and over and over, God embraced them with his love and rescued them.

Finally, the ultimate rescue came when God almighty clothed himself in flesh, and lived on earth as one of us. Jesus showed us what God looks like. Jesus showed us what God acts like. Jesus shows us how God sees. Jesus shows us how God loves, and Jesus laid down his life, conquered death and through his resurrection established his people, his kingdom, his nation. Brian Zahnd, in his book The Unvarnished Jesus, says of the crucifixion: “The cross refounds the world. When we see Jesus lifted up on the cross, perfectly displaying the love of God by forgiving the sin of the world, we find the place where human society is reorganized. Instead of a world organized around an axis of power enforced by violence, we discover a world organized around an axis of love expressed in forgiveness.”

Jesus and his ways reorganize society around an axis of love. Those of us who identify with Christ are no longer citizens of the world, we are citizens of the kingdom of God and yet, we are (I am)  drawn to the systems and structures of the world. They feel more certain. We know what to expect. And most of the time, we (I) don’t even realize the bondage we’ve placed ourselves in, the axis on which we’re spinning–until we’re faced with huge uncertainty.

So here we are, in unprecedented times. There is a global pandemic taking place. All over the world people are quarantining, people are without paychecks, some have lost their jobs, some have lost their health, some have lost their lives. Others are risking their lives on the front lines without the protective equipment that they need, or the medical equipment they need to keep people alive. In some nations, lives are being valued over the economy. In others, the economy is being valued over lives. There are those who believe the virus is a political ploy. There are those who believe the virus can be blamed on a certain ethnic group, and conclude that people of that ethnicity should be mistreated. There are those trying to control what they can, and there are those taking their own lives because things feel so out of control. There are those desperately trying to maintain life as normal, there are those numbing out in order to keep fear at bay, and there are those living in so much fear that they can’t eat or sleep. There are those, like my middle child’s dear friend, who have loved ones (his mother) in the hospital alone fighting for her life, and the isolation and grief they are both experiencing at not being able to be together. So what do we, the people of the kingdom of God, who live right here on the “foreign soil” of planet earth do?

First, we need to seek our hearts and ask the Holy Spirit what earthly things we’re clinging to, what is holding us captive? In the USA, we have printed on our currency “In God We Trust”. Do we? Or do we trust the currency on which that’s written?  I’m not going to lie–I struggle here. I’ve been breathing consumeristic, capitalistic air my whole life. Success in this nation is defined by possessions, or at the very least, being able to pay our own bills so that we don’t have to be dependent upon anyone else, which leads to another thing we may cling to…

Self-sufficiency. We admire the “self-made man”, the rags to riches stories. Independence and “I did it my way” are things we value. Interdependence causes us to feel weak; we don’t like that, and yet the system in God’s kingdom is extremely interdependent as we each offer our gifts to one another, pray for one another, share in each other’s strengths and weaknesses, and work together to establish God’s kingdom on earth.

We excel at “doing” rather than “being”. We’re not good at stillness. We go, go, go and rarely take time to sit and be. When we sit, we watch TV, scroll through our social media accounts, read books, text. We run from being alone with ourselves, and from being alone with God.  Even our “godly” focus on others can be a way to deflect from ourselves. You all, I’m not pointing fingers…I do this. And this week, I was stopped in my tracks.

A friend sent me a 15-minute meditation to listen to. As I listened to the encouragement to face my fears, let them go, and sit in the safety of Love, I could feel discomfort rising in me. I wanted to push it away, to move onto something else but chose to sit with it. I asked God to show me my deepest fears. He did. Pain. Loss. Suffering.  Mine, yours, the world’s. Many of you know that I lost my mother to cancer when I was eleven. That type of loss at that age wreaks havoc on one’s ability to feel safe–it’s like a gut punch that causes one’s mind to bend toward worst-case scenario thinking. It also makes one more apt to try to run from grief–which never works. The more we (I) run, the tighter the chains of bondage become. They can take the form of self-destruction or self-absorption;  of anger or denial; of clinging too hard to others, or not clinging to others at all; of blame or resignation; of living by our emotions, or numbing our emotions, and a myriad of other coping strategies.

So what do we do?  We acknowledge those things and turn from those ways. We seek the face of God (2nd Chronicles 7:14). When we seek God’s face, we look right into the face of Jesus who stood outside the tomb of his dear friend Lazarus, knowing full well that he was about to bring Lazarus back to life, and he wept, actually sobbed with real tears, and entered into the grief of those mourning. Jesus did not deny their pain, just like Jesus did not deny his own wrestling and anguish in the garden of Gethsemane. He felt pain deeply. He never called anyone faithless for grieving.

He also continued to minister in the midst of pain.

In the account of Lazarus, Jesus brought him back to life–can you imagine the rejoicing that ensued? In his own life, Jesus experienced death, conquered death and came back to life, providing us the opportunity to live in the power of his resurrection both here on earth and for eternity–that’s reason to rejoice– but not reason to ignore.

My counselor taught me a few years ago,  that life happens in the tension of the “and”.  This season is full of “ands”.  I’m enjoying a slower life pace, and I am deeply aware of the seriousness of the situation we are in. I am a deeply committed follower of Jesus and I have fear and doubts. I have full faith to believe that God can heal and I am fully aware that God works on God’s timetable, and sometimes healing doesn’t mean what I want it to mean. I have no doubt that God could wipe out the virus in a millisecond and I am aware that we are facing a global pandemic that God hasn’t wiped out yet. I know that there is truth in the statement that we are safe in God’s love, and I don’t always feel like God’s love is safe, at least not the way I define safety.

Therefore, it’s wise to acknowledge the ands, feel what we need to feel, move through our wrestling by wrestling, then land on the things that we know are true. God is love. God is good. God meets us where we are without condemnation. God doesn’t mind our questions. God is okay with our wrestling. God joins us in our suffering. God joins us in our laughter. And in the midst of it all, as we seek His face, God gives us the opportunity to join Him in his loving work of rescuing, redeeming, suffering with, laughing with, praying for and embracing the world as we allow God to embrace us. In this way, a nation–a world, can be saved.

–Luanne

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Fan the Flame–Fear of Failure

Everyone fears failure. 

This is where Pastor John started on Sunday as he brought us the second message in our new series. Last week Pastor Beau shared with us how the fear of rejection can throw water on the flame of the Spirit within us–the Spirit of power, love, and a sound mind–and this week we learned about how fearing failure can have the same effect.

We all fear failing in one way or another, because we have all failed. We’ve all felt the sting of disappointment that failure brings. Pastor John reminded us that when we fail–as we all will–it’s important to remember that it is an event, it is not who we are. There’s a big difference between feeling the disappointment of failing–and expressing those feelings–and letting the disapproval of our failings define who we are. He encouraged us to learn from our failures, to begin to see failure as a friend

Those words are easy to say, easy to type, and exponentially more difficult to put into practice… How do we make failure our friend? We’ve all heard the phrase, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” John told us a story that brings this oft-quoted line to life. He told us the story behind the name of the popular formula, “WD-40”. The “WD” stands for water displacement. The “40” is part of the name because it was on the 40th attempt that its creator, Norm Larsen, finally got the formula right. He had tried and failed 39 other times. But he kept going, modifying his formula and his process, until it worked. He had clearly determined to learn from his failings, to see failure as an opportunity. Pastor John invited us to begin doing the same things.

The story is endearing and absolutely serves to prove a valuable point… but what about when our failures have nothing to do with a product we’re trying to create? How many times are we willing to get back up and try again when…

…we pick up that bottle after we swore we were done?

…we open that window and click on that website one more time?

…we scream at our toddler for the twentieth time in as many minutes?

…the grade on the exam falls below the curve yet again?

…We find ourselves looking out from behind bars?

…the flirtation crosses the line?

…we lose yet another job?

…we can’t stop eating what we know is killing us?

…the lies keep coming out too easily?

…that promise was just too hard to keep?

…we’ve bent the rules for our own benefit repeatedly?

…we give it everything we have, but it’s still not enough?

What then? How many monumental failures does it take to break our spirits? How many times can we claw our way back to the surface before we just can’t do it anymore?

The answer to those questions depends on what spirit we’re leaning into. If we have grabbed hold of the spirit of fear and timidity, if we’ve given ourselves over to the lies of that spirit, it will feel like we can’t get back up again…

Many of us have been there. Maybe many of us are there right now. But all is not lost...

If you’re living in the white-knuckled grip of the fear of failure, there is hope. Keep breathing. Remember what Pastor Beau shared with us last week–It may appear that your fire has gone out. There may be a thick layer of ashes covering your coals. But all it takes is a little stirring, a little rearranging, a breath of holy wind--to fan those dying embers into flames again.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. (2 Timothy 1:7, NKJV)

Our human spirits may break beneath the weight of failure and the fear of failing again, the same way we might refer to breaking a horse’s spirit. But the Spirit we were given as a gift from God, the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead that is now alive within us, cannot be broken! This Spirit reminds us to lean into the truth that “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear…” (1 John 4:18a, ESV) This Spirit tells us that all things are possible. This Spirit is stronger than fear, stronger than failure, stronger than death itself. This Spirit is the Spirit of God, the breath that formed all of creation. And the phony spirit of fear–even the threatening, potent fear of failure–is no match for the Spirit that is alive within us.

So how many times can we get back up and get moving? How many times can we try again when failure and fear mark our days? How long can we keep trying when it seems to be a futile effort?

As long as we can breathe in, and breathe out. We live because God’s very breath lives within us. If we can breathe, we can try again. Because that breath within us is a flame that never fully goes out. Even when we douse it… and choke the air out of it… and bury it under a million failures and the weight of all the shame… Because we belong to God and He gives more grace. (James 4:6). Always. When we can’t lift our arms to stir our own coals, He comes to us to remind us to just keep breathing. He keeps the fire alive when we feel the cords of the grave entangle us. He allures us into the wilderness of our failings to romance our hearts back into His embrace. He pursues us and gently leads us until we remember that we are not alone. We were given the gift of His Spirit–a Spirit of power, love, and a sound mind. And this Spirit awakes our hearts to wonder–even as we wander, as we wrestle, as we sink into pits of despair–and to remember the voice of love. The perfect love that drives out all of our fear–even the poignant, loud, assaulting fear of failure that threatens to define not only our days, but our very lives.

Your Spirit can’t be broken… no matter the weight of the failures you carry. Just. Keep. Breathing.

–Laura

Failure. We all fear it. We all want to appear competent, confident, accomplished. Sometimes we pretend that we are all of those things as we desperately try to cover up how afraid and insecure we truly are. We put on the persona that we are perfect, have it all together, while inside we are crumbling under the weight of the fear that we might fail, or the shame of memories of past failures.

Jesus came to set us free in all ways, and His freedom includes freedom from the fear of failure. Galatians 5:1 reminds us of this: It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.  

We are encouraged to stand firm in our freedom. But how do we do it? It can be so challenging.

Pastor John reminded us, as Laura wrote above, that:

We all fear failure.

He also reminded us that:

We all go down.

We must strive to see our failure as an event, not as our identity.

We can acknowledge our failure, feel the disappointment of it, learn from it and get back up and keep going.

Pastor John told us that we can see failure as our friend. In truth, who wants to do that? But he’s right.  Personally, I’d rather not fail. I’m going to assume that I’m not alone in that. If I allow myself, I can sit here and let my mind wander to past failures and feel the shame and/or embarrassment that I felt as if the failure just happened moments ago. Or, I can sit here and think about all of the opportunities that I didn’t take advantage of, because I was afraid that I wouldn’t do it perfectly, or of the times that I just gave up because whatever I was doing was hard, so I just stopped, quit, failed. Ugh! It’s hard to think of those moments in a positive way. But when I let go of shame, and allow the Holy Spirit to minister to me, I can learn much from those moments–and that is always a good thing.

James 3:2 tells us that we all stumble in many ways.

Romans 3:23 tells us that all of us have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God.

And God, in His wonderful mercy, inspired the writers of scripture to include the good, the bad, and the ugly, so that we would know that we are not alone. The list of the faithful includes liars, adulterers, murderers, whiners, idol worshipers, cowards, a nation that turned its back on God over and over, the self-righteous, the proud, the betrayers, the greedy, the selfish, the faithless, and on and on.

When we read those accounts, I don’t know about you, but I am able to see their failures as events. I don’t define Abraham or King David, or Peter or any of the others by their failures. I am able to see God’s love, his faithfulness, his mercy in their stories–even if the consequences for their choices were hard. I can see God’s transforming work in the lives of those who continued walking with Him. Can I see His faithfulness and mercy in my story? Can you see it in yours?

God enters into our failures so that the world can see who HE is. We have no idea how God is going to use our failures to point others to Him, but He will if we let Him. It’s not our pretend perfection that draws people to Jesus. It’s our humanity, our stories, our failures that highlight His goodness, His kindness, His grace, His love.

Acknowledging this not only helps us to get back up, but it helps us to be there with grace for others who are struggling with failure or the fear of failure.  We are all in this together. And Jesus, He came for us all, He died for us all. He rose again for us all. He sent the gift of His Holy Spirit for us all–the Spirit of power, of love, of self-discipline, so that we can push through our fear, and fan our gifts into flame.

James 5:16 tells us to confess our sins to one another and pray for one another so that we can be healed.  In being real with one another, in offering grace to one another, in praying for each other, there is healing.  In that healing there is freedom. In that freedom we are unleashed in the power of the Holy Spirit, not to carry out our call perfectly, but to carry it out effectively.

His power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).

It is God who is working in us giving us the desire and the power to do what pleases Him. (Ph 2:13 NLT)

Embrace His grace, Embrace His power, Fan into flame the gift that you’ve been given. God is not disappointed in us for being human. He knows that we have and will mess up. He knows that we will be afraid, and want to hide behind our masks, I think that’s why the most repeated command in all of scripture is “Do not be afraid.” All of our failures are covered by His grace through the blood of Jesus. The power to live without fear is available to us through the same Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead–the same Spirit who lives in us. (Rom 8:11)  So do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. (Luke 12:32) His kingdom where all are welcome. Where all are loved. Where all are forgiven. Where all are empowered. Where no one will ever be rejected, and all of our failures can be transformed into points of light and transformation and growth. Including yours.  

 “If you should fall again, get back up, get back up. Reach out and take my hand, get back up, get back up, get back up again. Get back up again. There’s only grace, there’s only love, there’s only mercy and believe me it’s enough. Your sins are gone, without a trace, there’s nothing left now, there’s only grace. There’s only grace.”  Matthew West

–Luanne

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Last Words: Jesus

Over the last three weeks we’ve looked at three men: Peter, Judas and Pontius Pilate. We saw things in their stories that left us wrestling with the unsettling truth that we can, in fact, relate to all of them–even (especially?) at their very worst. We explored stories that we don’t often look deeply into–and in the deep pools of their humanity, we’ve seen our own reflections. We’ve seen how we can get caught up in our own fears and misunderstood identites. How expectations can cause us to take things into our own hands and lead us down a road of self-destruction. We have had the opportunity to face our own indifference and its consequences, to see how a desire to self-protect can be the very thing that implicates us. We were reminded that we cannot wash our hands of our guilt, and that there’s only One who can wash away our betrayals and failures.

It is the words of that One-Jesus-that Pastor Beau brought before us in this final message of what has been a compelling and profound series.

The book of Luke contains three of Jesus’s last seven statements before His death on the cross. These are the words Beau spoke from on Easter Sunday.

Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

And Jesus replied, “I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. (Luke 23:46)

From these three statements, Beau asserted that Jesus is for us: He is our intercessor (Romans 8:34, 1 Timothy 2:5-6); He wants a personal relationship with each of us, evidenced by His response to the thief on the cross who believed; and Jesus was fully committed to His surrender, as He gave absolutely everything-even His very last breath-in obedience to His Father on behalf of us.

Pastor Beau went on to bring us into the space where God had really spoken to his heart as he prepared for Easter Sunday. He reminded us that there is absolutely no power in the cross itself or in the empty tomb alone–it was the Man who was hung on the cross and placed into the tomb that contained the power. It was Jesus who made the cross and the tomb symbols of our faith-the symbols alone are meaningless. Our resurrection-our movement from death to life-only happens when we encounter the Resurrected Savior, Jesus Himself. Beau told us that our salvation is immediate and eternal-as it was for the thief on a cross who gave Jesus his heart at the very end of his life. But Jesus desires more for us! He wants us to live into the fullness of our identities as those who have encountered our Resurrected Savior. He desires that we live beyond the cross and the tomb, into the truth of redemption and the ministry of reconciliation as those who’ve been reconciled to the Father through the Son! He longs that we fulfill the purposes we were built for, to live fully committed to our surrender as He did. We talked about Peter in week one of this series, about how he did this-he lived into his true identity. But, as Beau reminded us, he didn’t really step into his new identity until he encountered his Resurrected Savior. During his conversation with the post-resurrection Jesus on the beach (John 21), Simon Peter dropped the “Simon” and put on “Peter”. And he spent the rest of his days fulfilling his purpose on this earth. He didn’t will himself to become Peter. He didn’t work hard enough to make the name stick. The transformation happened when he had a redeeming encounter with the Resurrected Jesus. That’s where change begins, where real transformation starts–for all of us.

Have you encountered your Risen Savior? Have you experienced redemption that began the transformation process in the depths of you? If not, you need to know that this Gospel we preach, it is simple. The thief on a cross next to Jesus? He believed Jesus was actually who He claimed to be, and he asked Him to remember him when He came into His Kingdom. He didn’t have any time to make amends for the wrong he’d committed, to ask forgiveness from those he’d hurt. He came to Jesus just as he was. And Jesus not only promised him that he would find himself in paradise that very day–He made it personal. He told the man, “You will be with me today in paradise”. Beginning a relationship with Jesus is that simple. We give him all that we are in exchange for all that He is. And if we die in the next moment, we’ll find ourselves with Him for eternity.

But if we still have life to live… there’s so much more. Meeting our Risen Jesus is only the beginning. We have identities to grow into, new names to wear as He writes the rest of our stories. We don’t want to miss out on all that He has planned for our lives. One day we’ll say some last words of our own. We will leave a legacy no matter what–the stories of our lives will point to something. We have some choices to make that will determine what-and who-that legacy points to.

Beau reminded us on Sunday that in the Apostle’s Creed, only a few names are mentioned. The three manifestations of God: God our Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit, the Virgin Mary, and… Pontius Pilate. The mention of him reads likes this:

I believe in Jesus Christ…who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate…”

Beau suggested that maybe that wasn’t the legacy Pilate would have chosen to leave. But his choices left it for him, whether he consciously chose it or not. The record of our choices will leave a legacy, too. Our lives will tell a story. Mine contains some chapters I’m not proud of–accounts that make me cringe, that grieve my heart. But thankfully, those chapters are only part of the story. I’m hopeful that when I take my last breath and join the nameless thief and Jesus in eternity, my story will exist as a small portion of His story, a portion that evidences the power of Jesus and the difference He can make in a willing, surrendered life. I hope that one day, my last words are lyrics in the song being written by the Word of Life Himself–the One whose words will echo on for all of eternity. I hope that yours evidence the same Savior and join the song He wants to write through your lives.

–Laura

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