Good News… Finally!

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. (2 Peter 1:3 NIV)

I can remember teaching on this verse (and on holiness) in men’s group a few years ago. In essence, I taught: “God has equipped you with everything you need to live godly lives — it says it right there! Now go out and do it! If you fail, keep trying! In fact, try harder! If you don’t think you can do it, then you’re saying that God’s Word is not true. We all know that’s not the case, so you ought to be able to live holy lives.”

Mishandling God’s truth is a scary thing, and I did it over and over again. But here’s the Good News…

Yes, he has given me everything I need for life and godliness IN CHRIST JESUS. In Christ alone, I have life! New life. Eternal life. Abundant life! I am a child of God with Christ dwelling in me and I live in the unshakeable Kingdom of God! My hope is secure because His promise is sure. His love endures forever. Hallelujah! I have life… REAL life!

In Christ alone, I have godliness. I am clothed with Christ, in the robe of His righteousness. My sins – past, present, and future – are covered by His blood. Through the Cross my punishment has been cancelled. I have been bought back from slavery by Christ. I am redeemed! I am free from guilt, shame, and condemnation! Yea! Shout for joy! I have godliness… His godliness!

I have those wonderful things in Christ alone, not because of my merit or not because I am living a good life. It is only by His divine power, given as a wonderful, amazing gift of love and grace in Christ Jesus.

As I’ve heard one author say, “Holiness is not what God wants from you; He wants His holiness in you.”

His Sweet Presence

Have you ever felt the closeness of Jesus? I mean, TRULY felt He was right there with you? Have you ever felt the sweetness of His Presence… as if He were touching you or touching the person you were talking with? Yesterday, I felt the closeness of Jesus unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

Yesterday, at Love In the Name of Christ (where I work), we gathered items to help a woman get back on her feet after spending time in a shelter. We gathered furniture, pots and pans, dishes, glasses, curtains, blankets, sheets… all coming to Love INC through generous folks like you. She was so appreciative. She had a friend with her who was providing the transportation, and as she was helping load the items for her friend into her vehicle, she mentioned she was trying to do the same thing: come out of the shelter, get an apartment, and get back on her feet as well.

Before they left, we all prayed together, hugged, and they went happily on their way, saying they would come back for the couch they couldn’t fit into the vehicle. Later that afternoon, sure enough, the friend came back, and together, we loaded the couch into her vehicle. She was alone this time, without the woman for whom she was transporting the couch. After loading it, we stopped to catch our breath, and with one simple statement, the floodgates opened.

All I said was, “So tell me about the shelter.” I was wanting to know how it was helping her and trying to discern how I could pray for her before she left. She explained the reason she was at the shelter, and all that had transpired while she resided there. She was a mother of two young children. Now without her kids, she was heartbroken without them. She had a head trauma which had rendered her incapable of defending her rights as a mom and she had lost her kids in court. Now, nearly fully recovered from the injury, caused by abuse, she was completely broken.

As I listened to her story, my heart broke, too. I was able to briefly tell her that Jesus didn’t come to help the folks who have it all together; He came to minister to the broken and battered… the forgotten and forsaken… BECAUSE THAT’S ALL THERE IS! We are all broken. We have all been battered. We have all seemingly been forgotten and forsaken by everyone we trusted, we befriended, and we believed in… except Jesus. He came for the brokenhearted, because that’s all there is.

We prayed together in the parking lot, hugged, and… she wouldn’t let go.

In that simple conversation, I have never felt closer to Jesus.

Surprise Me!

Yesterday (Saturday), I read a few posts on Facebook alluding to the fact that although “Good” Friday was dark and gloomy, Sunday was coming. The posts said that the joy of Resurrection Sunday is on the way. It’s only right around the corner and we can celebrate the eternal life found in Christ’s resurrection.

It’s easy for us to look ahead to Easter Sunday. We know the story. We know how it all turns out. We know the happy ending. But the first disciples didn’t know that.

Were they surprised? An understatement, to be sure. Shocked? That’s more like it, but certainly stunned as well. That partly described the disciples. I wonder about the gloom they must’ve experienced and the despair they must’ve felt. Scattered in Gethsemane and most watching the trial and execution from a distance, the disciples would wander the streets and hide away, together and separately, for Friday and Saturday. They would not only wander, but they would wonder… at what might have been.

What happened?!? Jesus was being proclaimed King of the Jews. The winds of change were blowing. The people were fully supportive. A revolution was brewing and they were front-and-center. It was all going so well. What happened?!?

First surprised by Jesus’ clear announcement that he would have to die, and then surprised by the Roman detachment in the garden, the disciples were overwhelmed by the announcement that Jesus was to be executed. How could this be!?!

Now reality had hit home and they were finally together. Hiding out partly from fear of reprisals from the ruling council and partly from despair, the disciples lamented their fate. What would they do now? Matthew wondered if he could be a tax collector ever again. No way, he thought. His life had been changed. Peter could always fish. But things would never be the same.

Imagine their surprise Sunday morning when they heard that the stone had been moved! Imagine their shock when Jesus body was said to be gone. What a surprise awaited them when Jesus would join them in that room!

As I sat there reading the resurrection accounts yesterday, I wondered if there is still room in my faith for Jesus to surprise me.

Could He do the unthinkable?
Could He really move that mountain?
Could He touch those who are seemingly untouchable?
Could He clean those who we would deem “unclean”?
Could He save those we fear are too far gone?
Could He open the eyes of the blind and make the lame leap like a deer?
Could He resurrect those who have been given a death sentence?
Could He bring life from death? Victory from defeat?

Sunday is here! Surprise me, Jesus!

Covered in Blood

Malchus had heard the stories. How could he NOT have heard? This man from Nazareth had done amazing things. He had fed the crowds that had surrounded him and his disciples… several thousands at once! How is that possible?!? He had healed the lame, stopped bleeding with one touch, and put his hands on the blind, only to have them open their eyes to a brand-new world.

A brand-new world indeed. The winds of change were certainly blowing and his boss, the chief priest, and all of his cohorts were trying to figure a way to keep the peace. Jews were restless, being oppressed by Roman rule; and the Roman government authorities knew it. Things were getting worse. Malchus sensed this as well. Being the chief priest’s servant, he had heard all the conversations. He had heard the grumblings. The Jews sensed that this Nazarene could be their new king, and the one that would break them free from Roman rule. Every day seemed to grow more tense. Something had to be done.

Now Malchus was face-to-face with the man himself: Jesus. Judas had done what he was paid to do, and now Malchus could arrest this man, who proclaimed peace and brought peace, seemingly everywhere he went. He was in Gethsemane, as expected. What he didn’t expect was what happened next.

Jesus asked, “Who are you looking for?”
Malchus answered, “Jesus of Nazareth.”
Jesus replied, “I am.”

With those words, everyone in the garden that night was swept off their feet, as if the force of gravity had increased a hundredfold and a hurricane had hit, all at the same time. The only One left standing was Jesus. After what seemed like minutes, those present nervously gathered themselves, not sure what was going to happen next.

What happened next was chaos. As the Roman detachment advanced to seize Jesus, most of Jesus disciples retreated. Except Peter. Peter, seized with indignation, grabbed a sword from one of the Roman soldiers and swung wildly at anyone in armor, and just missed cutting off someone’s head. It had been a glancing blow, but on the ground screaming was Malchus, bleeding profusely. On the ground as well was Malchus’ ear.

The Man of Peace, later to be called the Prince of Peace, lifted his hand and immediately everyone stopped, likely fearing something else or Someone else knocking them off their feet again. After rebuking his own disciple, he reached for his enemy, Malchus. In one motion, Jesus reached for the ear and the man, and when removing his hand, the man and the ear were one again.

Malchus rose to his feet, not sure he believed what just happened. Jesus hand was still on Malchus’ cheek, and as Malchus looked into his eyes, all he could see was… love. How was this possible!?! How was it possible that, first, my ear has been reattached!?! And how is it possible that the man I am arresting looks in my eyes with such love?!? Surely he is not of this world.

As Jesus pulls his hand away from Malchus’ cheek, it is covered with Malchus’ blood. How ironic. Soon Malchus would witness the crucifixion of this man. Soon Malchus would witness more love than he’d ever seen before. Soon Malchus would believe.

And soon Malchus would be covered by the blood of Jesus.

Seated at the Table

It was Thursday. The disciples of Jesus hurried back to Jerusalem from Bethany. They were instructed by their teacher what to do to prepare their Passover meal tonight. They obediently went to the house Jesus had described, gave instructions to the home’s owner, who somehow knew their plans, and prepared the upstairs room for what was to be their final meal together.

As Matthew sat at the table that evening, his thoughts returned to an earlier time when he and Jesus had shared a meal together. Jesus had been leading his entourage through town when they came upon Matthew manning his customary station — his tax collector’s booth. Those passing through grudgingly pay their tax. They curse, they scowl, and some even spit in the direction of this man who was doing his job and trying to make a living. Granted, he had skimmed some off the top to give himself and his family a little extra, but who hasn’t done that?!? It’s all relative, isn’t it?

But as Jesus came by his booth that day, there was something in Jesus’ face… something in his countenance… something in his eyes… that was different. He was used to seeing hatred and disdain. What was he seeing?

As Matthew sat at the table in the upper room, laughing with his closest friends that night, he flashed back to his first meal shared with Jesus. He was laughing with his closest friends that evening, too, but they were friends more out of necessity than anything else. His closest friends then were his tax-collecting associates and other riff-raff; no one else would dare be seen with him. He was a cheating thief, stealing the working man’s well-earned wages.

Now, as he looked around the room, he reflected on those seated with him tonight. Surveying the room, the men here were not much different from those seated at that first meal with Jesus. These were everyday men with checkered pasts, just like his. There was nothing special about any of them except that they were called by the Man who they now knew to be what his people, the Jews, had been looking toward for hundreds of years: The Messiah, the One who would deliver His people. Just how that would unfold, he was not yet sure, although Jesus was speaking with less riddles that ever before.

Matthew’s life with Jesus began at a table filled with sinners, and now three years later, as he looked around this table, not much had changed… except Matthew’s understanding of who fit under that label.

And looking around the room, he fixed his eyes on Jesus, later to be called “the Author and Perfecter” of his faith. He knew why Jesus would be called that. And now he knew what was different in Jesus eyes that day. Now he knew what he saw.


And now we all have a place at the table.

Wednesday: A Lull

After the confrontations earlier in the week with the chief priests and religious leaders, it would seem that Wednesday brought a lull. Jesus and his disciples retreated to Bethany, while the religious leaders devised their scheme to seize Jesus quietly, behind the scenes, so to avoid a public uproar. They gather a group of loyal traditionalists and one of Jesus’ followers. It would require a bribe and might require force, so they would plan to take clubs and swords, just in case. But now the plan was in place.

Meanwhile, in Bethany, Jesus relaxed for dinner at the home of Simon, who was a leper. The disciples had seen this before: Jesus socializing with those on the margin of society, the outcast, the “unclean” (like a leper), the afflicted, the sick, the forgotten. Simon was no different. He was known as “Simon the leper.” That was who he was. That was his identity. Simon the leper. He had heard that said over and over.That was who he was, at least BEFORE his time spent with Jesus.

Before Jesus cleansed me, I could’ve had labels like Simon. “Druggie”, “Misfit”, “Loser”, “Alcoholic”… that would’ve been me. Those would’ve been my labels. That was said about me. “What a shame. What a waste. He had so much potential.” That’s what was whispered. That was my identity. That’s who I was. I heard the whispers, whether they were audible or not. Looking for answers , like so many, I turned to more self-medication.

The medication took many forms. Looking for something or someone to fill the seemingly unquenchable void, I looked everywhere and tried everything. Drugs and drink. Sex and toys. Nothing changed my identity; they only changed my consciousness.

Then Jesus came to my home, so to speak, as he came to Simon’s. We don’t know how Simon’s life was changed by Jesus sharing a table with him. In fact, we lose sight of Simon. Jesus’ visit to his home, astounding in itself, is overshadowed by what takes place inside. While inside, Mary, the sister of the resurrected Lazarus, anoints Jesus body, from head to toe, with expensive nard, worth a year’s wages.

Scripture never says, but Simon undoubtedly sees this act of worship and begins to understand how this woman can give up what, most likely, was her only financial security. Jesus did for her (and her family) what no one else could do. Simon, most likely, understood that; or he soon would. He would no longer be known by his old label. The old was gone. The new had come. He, most likely, was now “Simon the follower.” Jesus did for Simon what no one else could do.

I suspect his new labels are: “Loved.” “Accepted.” “Healed” “Whole.”

New labels and a new life.

For Simon… and me.