We don’t live in a nation where we suffer much for our faith. Our access to the Bible is not limited. And yet, just like persecuted believers, it is those things that we memorize, those things which are “written on our hearts” that shape our thinking, especially in times of trouble.
And just like God’s people throughout time, it is the stories of God’s work that remind us of His greatness and His power and His faithfulness and His care. (Psalm 136)
So on this Holy Saturday, between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday, may the story of Jesus, from Creation to Revelation, be written on our hearts so we can carry it wherever we go and remember all He has done for us.
Though you are homeless Though you’re alone I will be your home Whatever’s the matter Whatever’s been done I will be your home I will be your home I will be your home In this fearful fallen place I will be your home When time reaches fullness When I move my hand I will bring you home Home to your own place In a beautiful land I will bring you home I will bring you home I will bring you home From this fearful fallen place I will bring you home I will bring you home ~Michael Card
This song, sung each year at our Chapel’s Tenebrae service,
is a message long awaited
through the bright darkness of Lent
and the midnight of Good Friday.
It is Christ’s message to each of us:
when we ask to be remembered,
when we truly and wholly ask for forgiveness
for whatever is the matter,
for whatever we have done,
we find our only hope and comfort is in Him.
He brings us home.
Home.
Homeless no longer, but homeful and hopeful.
How can we even think of approaching God? He is Holy. He is Perfect. He is Powerful. He is All-Knowing. And we are dust.
But the truth of the Gospel is that God, the Righteous and Just, is also God, the Merciful. God provided a way to reconcile us to Himself. He sent His holy, perfect Son to die and pay for our sin.
And now, Jesus’ wounds are a reminder that our sins are paid for. Jesus, the only mediator between God and man, presents us to the Father and God forgives us.
Detail from “Descent from the Cross” by Rogier van der Weyden
By Ben Gibson
Alas and Did my Savior Bleed
Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt mine eyes to tears.
I blushed easily as a kid. Being immensely shy and having a naturally rosy complexion meant that my face would flush at any shame or embarrassment. The smallest mistake would bring heat to my cheeks and knots in my stomach.
I’m not alone in this. Shame, humiliation, and embarrassment show. And this has been the response to the Godhead from time immemorial. After eating the apple, I am sure Adam and Eve blushed. Bodies flushed red for the first time, they hid in bushes.
Before the cross, our faces and bodies blush. During this Passion Week, we as Christians are confronted with the depth of our sins and they shame that comes from them. It is only in being confronted by the cross that we know the true depth of our sin and shame. Our sins could not be hidden. Instead, they had to rest on the perfect human. They pierced the hands of the God-man. They made him blush, sweat, and bleed. To see Jesus hanging on the cross is to be confronted with the weight of all our sins. When we see him on the cross, we will blush.
What do we do with our shame? We do not beat it out of ourselves. We do not bury it. Rather, with tears streaming down, our hearts dissolve in thankfulness.
The response to our shame is gratitude. Even as see our sins laid on Christ, we thank the Son who has taken them. Even as our cheeks blush at the cross, let them be wetted with the tears of gratefulness.
Every year March 11 holds profound significance for me, as it does for so many in Japan. This month marked seven years since the Triple Disaster–the Tohoku earthquake, and the resulting tsunami and Fukushima nuclear crisis–that devastated this country.
We at the Christian Academy in Japan were roughly 300 miles from the epicenter, and yet our sturdy building shook for several minutes, sending books and supplies off the shelves, and frightened students and staff under their desks.
The hours and days that followed were filled with aftershocks and tremors stronger than the average earthquake. After a while, I couldn’t tell when the ground beneath me was shaking and when it wasn’t; whether it was the earth or I, myself, that was constantly trembling, the whole world felt suddenly unsteady.
In the midst of this instability, a familiar praise song assumed new meaning for me. The lyrics of “Psalm 62” by Aaron Keyes read,
My soul finds rest in God alone,
My Rock and my salvation,
A fortress strong against my foes,
And I will not be shaken.
Though lips may bless and hearts may curse,
And lies like arrows pierce me,
I’ll fix my heart on righteousness,
I’ll look to Him who hears me.
O praise Him, hallelujah, My Delight and my Reward;
Everlasting, never failing, My Redeemer, my God.
Find rest, my soul, in God alone
Amid the world’s temptations;
When evil seeks to take a hold
I’ll cling to my salvation.
Though riches come and riches go,
Don’t set your heart upon them;
The fields of hope in which I sow
Are harvested in heaven.
I’ll set my gaze on God alone,
And trust in Him completely;
With every day pour out my soul,
And He will prove His mercy.
Though life is but a fleeting breath,
A sigh too brief to measure, My King has crushed the curse of death
And I am His forever.
O praise Him, O praise Him, hallelujah, hallelujah,
O praise Him, O praise Him, hallelujah, hallelujah,
O praise Him, O praise Him, hallelujah! hallelujah!
The 2011 earthquake reminded me in a very literal way that my hope comes not from any physical thing; that even the ground itself is unreliable. Yet, all is not hopeless–even as the earth gives way beneath our feet, we can rest in the truth that God is our rock and our salvation.
In Him, we stand on a foundation that will never crumble.
On Sunday morning, as we are sitting in church singing and hearing God’s Word, it is easy to be impressed with all that God has done. And we are grateful.
But as the week wears on, we are tired. We feel like God has given us more than we can handle. We even sometimes feel forgotten. And we complain.
But God has done so much for us. We can never be grateful enough. He created us. He gives us every blessing in our lives. He has given us a beautiful world to live in. And we rejected Him. But He didn’t give us up for loss. Instead, He Himself provided a way that our sins could be paid for and we could come to Him. At great cost, with great pain, Jesus was wounded and died for us. How can we ever say thank you?
We live as God’s children, for His glory, sharing the message of His grace with a world that doesn’t know Him, living for Him wherever we are. May we never forget all He has done. And may we never outlive our love for Him.
“He was despised and rejected by men, a man sorrows, and familiar with suffering…He was despised and, and we esteemed Him not. {Isaiah 53:3}
HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR. Words and music by Philip P. Bliss 1838-1876
How ironic that Christ, who is the Creator and sustainer of all things, was rejected and was put to death by those to whom He gave life. How ironic that He went to the cross in the display of Divine mercy toward us
“Man of sorrows!” what a name for the Son of God, who came ruined sinners to reclaim! HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! This first verse brings out the Old Testament prophecy of Isaiah 53. Speaking of the suffering of our Savior at the cross and the substitutionary work that Christ did there. He suffered for us willingly and deliberately.
Bearing shame and scoffing rude, in my place condemned He stood—sealed my pardon with His blood: HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! Verse two speaks of the scorn that was heaped on Him. He stood condemned on our [my] place, suffering what we rightfully deserved. Christ guaranteed our pardon sealed with His blood, the official seal that made it legal and effective.
Guilty, vile and helpless we, spotless Lamb of God was He; full atonement! Can it be? HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! Verse three tells us it was we, not Christ that deserved what He suffered and bore. We are guilty, vile and helpless unable to do anything to atone for our sins. He on the other hand is the sacrifice “the spotless Lamb of God” He alone could render full atonement. HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR!
Lifted up was He to die. “It is finished,” was His cry; now in heav’n exalted high: HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! Verse four. The once and for all sufficiency of Christ’s atoning death. John 19:30 “It is finished!!!”
When He comes, our glorious King, all his ransomed home to bring, then anew this song we’ll sing. HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR! Verse five the end. He is now in heaven exalted above all things [Philippians 2:9] He will return to bring us home where we will sing anew a new song. [ Revelation 14:3] which was our song from the beginning “ HALLELUJAH, WHAT A SAVIOR!
KEY for us is that a life of praise is not something that can be worked up. Rather, it is a remembrance and a response to Christ’s sacrificial death on our behalf. As we reflect on who Christ is and what He accomplished for us, what He provides in our daily lives as an advocate before God, and what He has promised for our future, our hearts are melted before Him. We bow at His feet in humble adoration. HALLELUJAH is basically the same in all languages. What a celebration as one day from every tribe, language, people and nation will gather to sing eternally “HALLELUJAH to the Lamb”
Reflect often on the Wondrous Cross of Christ His love and atoning work. Have a blessed Lent.
Some of the content came from John Macarthur and Kenneth Osbeck.
Be thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art-
Thou my best thought, be day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
Be Thou my my Wisdom,
and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Though with me Lord;
Thou my great Father, I thy true son,
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.
Confrontation is not my thing. Somewhat shocking I know coming from someone who is in law school. But professional confrontation and personal confrontation are two entirely different things. And personal confrontation comes in all shapes, sizes, and severities when you are a Christian.
Not all confrontation needs an active response. There are growing moments where it is best to listen, to acknowledge what the Lord is teaching me. To embrace the moment and be present with the Lord. But there are also those confrontations where I am moved to respond. Sometimes I am able to speak up, and I hope that I am able to speak with the wisdom that the Lord has granted me. Other times I am not, as my words or courage simply fail me.
It is in the this hymn that I find comfort. Knowing that with the Lord, any confrontation or challenging moment that I face is not alone. Whether it is a learning moment or one that brings me pause, He is there. His presence is my light as I continue to learn and grow from these moments.
“None other Lamb, none other name, none other hope in heav’n or earth or sea, none other hiding place from guilt and shame, none beside thee!” -Christina Rossetti, 1892
I have loved this hymn by for a long time. It is not one I grew up singing in church, but was introduced to by a friend in my mid-twenties. I managed, when I was a student in Ohio, to plunk out the William Jeater tune (one of the versions in our hymnal; the one we usually sing) on the piano. My piano playing is very weak, so to manage this was a feat for me. It is a rather simple tune, gentle and sweet. The tune seems to echo the words of Rossetti’s poem quite perfectly. Thinking back twenty years ago, sitting down at the fusty, old piano in the house I was living in, playing and singing the words to this hymn are a happy memory to me.
The poem, “None Other Lamb,” is found in Rossetti’s last published book, The Face of the Deep (1892). It is a book of her reflections on the book of Revelation. I’ve learned that this particular piece is part of her meditation on Rev. 5.6, after the apostle John is found weeping “because no one was found who was worthy to open the scroll or look inside.” This was troublesome to John, but “Then one of the elders said to me, ‘See the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and it’s seven seals.’ ”
Then comes verse 6: “Then I saw between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been slain . . .”
In her poem, Rossetti puts Jesus Christ in sharp focus for us as the only source of . . . our everything! None other Lamb, none other name, none other hope, none other hiding place, none beside thee. None. None. None.
Wow! Isn’t that an amazing thought? WE are Christ’s prize! His prize for which He died! I don’t know about you, but I rarely feel like a prize. Sometimes I honestly wonder how even my friends and family can put up with me, mess that I am. But Christ died for me. He died to save me. He died to pay a debt I couldn’t pay. And I am the good thing that He got by suffering. In spite of the mess that I am, Christ wanted me and suffered and died so that I could come to God. I am part of His beautiful Bride, the church.
It is amazing that God loves me that much. May I never forget!
Wiser Lake Chapel Advent and Lenten Reflections 