"... My God, My God, why have you forsaken me..."
Jesus was told right up front that he was God's beloved Son, "with whom I am completely blessed." (Matthew 3:17). He was told those same words mid-way through his ministry. "Listen to him!" (Matthew 17) He was affirmed as the Son of God, One with the Father, in complex relationship with the Father and the Spirit, throughout his entire life. There was no doubt that Jesus was God's Son.
Yet today, in the bleakest of days, he hangs questioning everything he has ever known.
Somewhere deep inside, he knows who he is in God's will. But today his experience couldn't speak more contrary. Yet he still calls God, "MY God." Though God had forsaken him. Jesus doesn't forsake his God. Though a "Forsaken God," still his God all the same.
No matter what.
Our darkest experiences, our greatest pains, our most disorientating chaos do nothing to remove, deny, or intimidate the Lordship of Christ, nor his Sacred History in our life. He reigns on the Peaks. He remains in the Valleys. He is not shaken by Creation's Doubt, but is drawn all the more into it in order to resurrect the remains of the Day. At our worse, he is his best. At our best, he is still his best. Independent and blended. He remains faithful, when we are not.
As we follow Jesus into his crucifixion we will also utter these same words, "My God... Why have you forsaken me?" They need to be uttered, to be believed, or it is not a true crucifixion.
They need not be said in guilt, believing that God becomes something less than God when we voice our angst questioning whether he even still exists. It is in our complete unraveling that God drapes us in his Glory. We have finally come to the Cross, as did our Lord. We have finally voiced our deepest fears - that God has left the House. We have nothing more.
We have been Crucified.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Matthew Devotion 27:28
"... and they stripped him..."
They did more than that. They beat him, mocked him, punched him the face. They placed a scarlet robe on him, a crown of thorns on his head. They played games and pretended he was the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.
Little did they know he was putting up with their tortuous game-playing so that one day he would become their Imaginary Friend.
And in the rage of their passion - through the cat-o-nine whipping, and mockery - Jesus loved them. With each slicing in his back they (meaning a portal for all Fallen Creature-hood) became increasingly loved. Each drop of blood which drained the Son of God - when seen through the puffy, beaten eyes of our Savior - provided, within Itself, the synergistic where-with-all to continue in the Father's Will.
Seeing the Blood on the stone pavement gave Jesus a more Passionate Resolve to go to the Cross. Our faces were in the reflection of those Drops. And that kept he going. He knew that one day we would be gazing back at him, through those same Drops, exalting him as King of Kings for the Salvation of the Cosmos.
He loves us.
Today those same mocking echoes of the soldiers are seen and heard. They're everywhere. Sometimes through others, mostly, however - if we are honest - we hear them in us. Their unleashed emotions and vile blasphemies express the Fallen Base of our human nature.
Jesus had always known there was a deeper realm to the evil within God's children. But it wasn't until now when he was experiencing totally, it in its raw form. Yet, when he looked through the blood to those mocking him, he was looking at me. He was looking to you. He was looking at them - true - but to many others through them. He was looking through them to us (after all, we are one family with Eden's DNA) - the rage of humanity against her Creator, all coming together in a single blow of the hammer.
To admit this - "we/me as the soldiers" - is the beginning of the breaking. It is the crack in the dry and barren land where there is no water; the crack wherein that very Blood can find it's way into our heart. When that happens, Jesus is blessed. When he sees us absorbing his Life Blood onto our own, he is relieved. It wasn't all for nought. Finally, the Gift is being appropriated and perhaps even, appreciated.
Knowing that gave him resolve to go to the Grave - the knowledge that, on a day far in the future - you would be appropriating the Fruit of the Tree.
They did more than that. They beat him, mocked him, punched him the face. They placed a scarlet robe on him, a crown of thorns on his head. They played games and pretended he was the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords.
Little did they know he was putting up with their tortuous game-playing so that one day he would become their Imaginary Friend.
And in the rage of their passion - through the cat-o-nine whipping, and mockery - Jesus loved them. With each slicing in his back they (meaning a portal for all Fallen Creature-hood) became increasingly loved. Each drop of blood which drained the Son of God - when seen through the puffy, beaten eyes of our Savior - provided, within Itself, the synergistic where-with-all to continue in the Father's Will.
Seeing the Blood on the stone pavement gave Jesus a more Passionate Resolve to go to the Cross. Our faces were in the reflection of those Drops. And that kept he going. He knew that one day we would be gazing back at him, through those same Drops, exalting him as King of Kings for the Salvation of the Cosmos.
He loves us.
Today those same mocking echoes of the soldiers are seen and heard. They're everywhere. Sometimes through others, mostly, however - if we are honest - we hear them in us. Their unleashed emotions and vile blasphemies express the Fallen Base of our human nature.
Jesus had always known there was a deeper realm to the evil within God's children. But it wasn't until now when he was experiencing totally, it in its raw form. Yet, when he looked through the blood to those mocking him, he was looking at me. He was looking to you. He was looking at them - true - but to many others through them. He was looking through them to us (after all, we are one family with Eden's DNA) - the rage of humanity against her Creator, all coming together in a single blow of the hammer.
To admit this - "we/me as the soldiers" - is the beginning of the breaking. It is the crack in the dry and barren land where there is no water; the crack wherein that very Blood can find it's way into our heart. When that happens, Jesus is blessed. When he sees us absorbing his Life Blood onto our own, he is relieved. It wasn't all for nought. Finally, the Gift is being appropriated and perhaps even, appreciated.
Knowing that gave him resolve to go to the Grave - the knowledge that, on a day far in the future - you would be appropriating the Fruit of the Tree.
Forgiving God, I come before you now
To offer You my sin and shame.
From Your altar of living sacrifice
Shed forth Your grace to me.
Oh, I watched you die.
Oh, I beat your face.
Oh, your body crucified.
I live, you’re disgraced.
Forgiving God, I must confess to you
In word and deed, I’ve mocked your blood.
Transfer from me the death that I deserve
Onto the One on the tree.
Oh, I watched you die.
Oh, I beat your face.
Oh, your body crucified.
I live, you’re disgraced.
Forgiving God, I stand in awe of you,
For by your stripes I am healed.
Clothe me I pray in your robes of righteousness,
Washed in the Blood of the Lamb.
Oh, I watched you die.
Oh, I beat your face.
Oh, your body crucified.
I live, you’re disgraced.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Matthew Devotion 27:21
"... which of the two do you want me to release to you?..."
God has given us a certain Risky Authority to bind or release - to withhold or set free - life or death in our life.
The sway of the crowd, the rub of the culture - if we would choose to succumb to it's hypnotic chant - tells us to choose death, to release the Barabbas into the thing. Yet back there, almost hidden in the roaring culture, there is One who silently beckons. He's been there all the time, loving, wooing you to release him. Deep inside you know he is the only One who can breath Life into your heart. He is not slick. There is nothing flashy about him. His Divinity remains fully cloaked in the hellish momentum of the crowd.
It's easy to do. Indeed, easier then picking up your Cross and following him into Obedience - to succumb to the world, that is; to use the certain Risky Authority for the binding of death, and not Life, as it was meant to be used for. Soon you, too, find yourself shouting, "Give me Barabbas! Release to me more death, more bondage, into my life!"
And, because of the Image, the Authority, that unique Rule that God has gifted you with to make things "be" at the mere utterance or your word, our Pilate washes his hands from the thing and pronounces his Blood upon us forever. Death is released. In a caustic juxtapositioning, God has actually honored what we have done with his Gift, in spite of out mismanagement of the thing. In a single moment our lifelong focus has shifted from worshipping our Maker to weaving fig leaves. The thing has been released and we are forever left dealing with the sticky residue of the Forbidden Choice.
Why has God even given us such authority? Doesn't he know we'd misuse it? No wonder he calls it a "Risky Authority!"
The authority to choose Life or death - to release this or that in our life - seems to be as binding whether it be used for Barabbas or Jesus. The riskiness of it - of course - is that we'd abuse the privilege and get into trouble. We can, for example shout with the world, "Give us Barabbas!" And Barabbas will be released. We all know that. Conversely, the releasing of Jesus into our Life comes with that same finality. The power to bless, the force to change and rearrange future blood-lines comes in the Ecstatic Sigh, "Holy Spirit, Come. Into my tomb, I now do choose, to release my Jesus!"
Choose ye this day whom you will serve.
The beautiful thing is - in spite of our misguided decisions, which have the capacity to change the course of following generations (such is the power of the Gift) - the very Life denied self-resurrects and redeems us through, of all things, our adamant misuse of that same Gift.
Jesus doesn't flinch when we shout "Barabbas." Oh, still he hears us, he still feels the betrayal, he still turns the other cheek and wonders why God and all Creation (including us) has forsaken him. But, through the power of the resurrection, his insistence to redeem, restore, and fill us with his absolute Unconditional Love remains a Force that the gates of hell themselves cannot curtail. He is resolute to stand in the Echoes of the Fall, be risen up for all to see, and rescue us from the deadly vines, wrapped tight 'round our feet, by the power of another Tree.
Though denied, he still offers. Tho killed, he still lives. Though hated, he still loves.
And - his goal? To hear us beckoning against the crowds - "No - Give us Jesus!"
God has given us a certain Risky Authority to bind or release - to withhold or set free - life or death in our life.
The sway of the crowd, the rub of the culture - if we would choose to succumb to it's hypnotic chant - tells us to choose death, to release the Barabbas into the thing. Yet back there, almost hidden in the roaring culture, there is One who silently beckons. He's been there all the time, loving, wooing you to release him. Deep inside you know he is the only One who can breath Life into your heart. He is not slick. There is nothing flashy about him. His Divinity remains fully cloaked in the hellish momentum of the crowd.
It's easy to do. Indeed, easier then picking up your Cross and following him into Obedience - to succumb to the world, that is; to use the certain Risky Authority for the binding of death, and not Life, as it was meant to be used for. Soon you, too, find yourself shouting, "Give me Barabbas! Release to me more death, more bondage, into my life!"
And, because of the Image, the Authority, that unique Rule that God has gifted you with to make things "be" at the mere utterance or your word, our Pilate washes his hands from the thing and pronounces his Blood upon us forever. Death is released. In a caustic juxtapositioning, God has actually honored what we have done with his Gift, in spite of out mismanagement of the thing. In a single moment our lifelong focus has shifted from worshipping our Maker to weaving fig leaves. The thing has been released and we are forever left dealing with the sticky residue of the Forbidden Choice.
Why has God even given us such authority? Doesn't he know we'd misuse it? No wonder he calls it a "Risky Authority!"
The authority to choose Life or death - to release this or that in our life - seems to be as binding whether it be used for Barabbas or Jesus. The riskiness of it - of course - is that we'd abuse the privilege and get into trouble. We can, for example shout with the world, "Give us Barabbas!" And Barabbas will be released. We all know that. Conversely, the releasing of Jesus into our Life comes with that same finality. The power to bless, the force to change and rearrange future blood-lines comes in the Ecstatic Sigh, "Holy Spirit, Come. Into my tomb, I now do choose, to release my Jesus!"
Choose ye this day whom you will serve.
The beautiful thing is - in spite of our misguided decisions, which have the capacity to change the course of following generations (such is the power of the Gift) - the very Life denied self-resurrects and redeems us through, of all things, our adamant misuse of that same Gift.
Jesus doesn't flinch when we shout "Barabbas." Oh, still he hears us, he still feels the betrayal, he still turns the other cheek and wonders why God and all Creation (including us) has forsaken him. But, through the power of the resurrection, his insistence to redeem, restore, and fill us with his absolute Unconditional Love remains a Force that the gates of hell themselves cannot curtail. He is resolute to stand in the Echoes of the Fall, be risen up for all to see, and rescue us from the deadly vines, wrapped tight 'round our feet, by the power of another Tree.
Though denied, he still offers. Tho killed, he still lives. Though hated, he still loves.
And - his goal? To hear us beckoning against the crowds - "No - Give us Jesus!"
Matthew Devotion 27:26
"... then he released Barabbas to them..."
My name is Barabbas, I have sinned great sins of death
I have lied, cheated, stolen and robbed - I've got murder on my breast
What is this before me? Well, I have been set free
God has caused my sin and shame to fall upon a man from Galilee
I'm not sure of the festival or time of the year
On the day of my trial my heart was filled with Godly fear
A life I'd sown in sin and shame was now a nightmare of my past
Harboring its just reward, as before the jeering crowd I was cast
I looked down towards the masses, and then to Pilate's side
I was a wretched stinking criminal in chains and blinding Light
The crowd grew angry - not to me - but to a new man they brought forth
A broken-hearted bleeding man stood trembling before the court
Pilate rose addressed the crowd to what the verdict be
Shall I free this killer, Barabbas? Or this king from Galilee?
Deep inside I had a hope, a glimmer oh so dim
Save my life from my due death, oh Father, redeem my sin
That's when the crowd sang
Give us Barabbas! It's him we want set free
Give his punishment and just reward to the King from Galilee
What? I couldn't believe it
Give us Barabbas! It's him we want set free
Give his punishment and just reward to the One who thinks he's King
When the final pronouncement came I had been set free
I hoot and hollered, "God be praised! He has heard my sincere plea!
But then I looked across the patio into his loving eyes
Above the roaring crowds he whispered - deep into my heart
For you, I'll die.
Did my ears deceive me" For he seemed to want to die
I tried to get a second look but they pulled him from the light
Later on that evening I sat staring at my wine
When the haunting words of the afternoon swirled round and round my mind
For you I'll die.
My name is Barabbas, I've sinned great sins of death
I've lied, cheated, stolen and robbed - I've got murder on my breast
What is this before me? I have been set free
God has caused my sin and shame to fall upon a Man from Galilee
My name is Barabbas, I have sinned great sins of death
I have lied, cheated, stolen and robbed - I've got murder on my breast
What is this before me? Well, I have been set free
God has caused my sin and shame to fall upon a man from Galilee
I'm not sure of the festival or time of the year
On the day of my trial my heart was filled with Godly fear
A life I'd sown in sin and shame was now a nightmare of my past
Harboring its just reward, as before the jeering crowd I was cast
I looked down towards the masses, and then to Pilate's side
I was a wretched stinking criminal in chains and blinding Light
The crowd grew angry - not to me - but to a new man they brought forth
A broken-hearted bleeding man stood trembling before the court
Pilate rose addressed the crowd to what the verdict be
Shall I free this killer, Barabbas? Or this king from Galilee?
Deep inside I had a hope, a glimmer oh so dim
Save my life from my due death, oh Father, redeem my sin
That's when the crowd sang
Give us Barabbas! It's him we want set free
Give his punishment and just reward to the King from Galilee
What? I couldn't believe it
Give us Barabbas! It's him we want set free
Give his punishment and just reward to the One who thinks he's King
When the final pronouncement came I had been set free
I hoot and hollered, "God be praised! He has heard my sincere plea!
But then I looked across the patio into his loving eyes
Above the roaring crowds he whispered - deep into my heart
For you, I'll die.
Did my ears deceive me" For he seemed to want to die
I tried to get a second look but they pulled him from the light
Later on that evening I sat staring at my wine
When the haunting words of the afternoon swirled round and round my mind
For you I'll die.
My name is Barabbas, I've sinned great sins of death
I've lied, cheated, stolen and robbed - I've got murder on my breast
What is this before me? I have been set free
God has caused my sin and shame to fall upon a Man from Galilee
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Matthew Devotion 26:75
"... So he went out and wept bitterly..."
Jesus knew Peter's heart. He knew there would be a day when this young optimistic apostle would pass through a tunnel of torment and feel so rotten about it afterwards that he would doubt his Call and his Place in the Kingdom. So he sought to comfort Peter - way out in advance - not only to prepare him for the ordeal but to remind him that, as he himself would prove, there is Life on the backside of the Cross.
“Simon, Simon," Jesus told him once. "Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31)
(I can see Peter looking to heaven and thinking that sort of thing could never happen to him. "Sure, whatever, Lord." But it did. Just like Jesus said it would. Only then did the Holy Spirit remind Peter of what Jesus was really saying.)
We oftentimes misunderstand what the Lord is saying to us until after the affair. Before the betrayal we may hear his warning - along with his absolute assurance of restoration on the other side - but we don't really take it to heart. We make light of it - even turning it into something spiritual or parabolic. What nice words, we think. Perhaps somebody needs to hear those words. Our Jesus is such a nice Shepherd. He is filled with such a great big, gushy love! Sweet, sweet Jesus! But it's only after the the betrayal when we realize the thing deafening us to God's Word in our hearts was at the very heart of our betrayal.
Humility is a wonderful thing, isn't it? It's the stuff of Biblical Heros. What you thought you were perhaps exempt from the process? Think again.
In the story above it's important to remember that Jesus was far more interested in Peter's recovery - his return to ministry - than what took him out. Betrayal takes a heavy toll on a person, regardless of the circumstances. Jesus is aware of that. He walks it through with us, pours out the Father's love to us, and reminds us there is Life beyond life. All the same, Jesus is insistent: Peter needed to know that, after all was said and done, he still had a call to ministry, he still had Purpose and, indeed, he was still to play a crucial role in the Plans of God.
Peter's sin, as rotten as it was, did not cause God to run and hide in a closet. No, Jesus is a Friend of Sinners. He drew closer to Peter. He singled him out and used the denial for a Future Glory - a glory perhaps greater than could have been previously.
Gods Word never returns void. He's not going to let a speed bump take us you of the Race. He has much bigger fish to fry.
A few days later, on the beach, Jesus says nothing about Peter's sin and says everything about the original Call on his life. "Do you still love me? Then, let's get on with it. Feed my sheep"
What? Even when I've sliced off the ear of a solder and you had to heal him? Feed my sheep. What? Even after I've denied you three times before others who need to know the Love of God? Feed my sheep. What? Even when I've suffocated the your Fire by warming myself around the fires of my own comfort and misplaced passion? Yes, dude, feed my sheep! As I've told you before, when you are restored, strengthen your brothers.
A well-healed limb is often stronger than the original. What is it with our God? He not only restores the years the locusts have eaten, but he makes the remaining years even more fruitful so that the glory of yesterday is shadowed in the glory of the Day.
Such is the power of God's forgiveness in a heart of flesh.
Jesus knew Peter's heart. He knew there would be a day when this young optimistic apostle would pass through a tunnel of torment and feel so rotten about it afterwards that he would doubt his Call and his Place in the Kingdom. So he sought to comfort Peter - way out in advance - not only to prepare him for the ordeal but to remind him that, as he himself would prove, there is Life on the backside of the Cross.
“Simon, Simon," Jesus told him once. "Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22:31)
(I can see Peter looking to heaven and thinking that sort of thing could never happen to him. "Sure, whatever, Lord." But it did. Just like Jesus said it would. Only then did the Holy Spirit remind Peter of what Jesus was really saying.)
We oftentimes misunderstand what the Lord is saying to us until after the affair. Before the betrayal we may hear his warning - along with his absolute assurance of restoration on the other side - but we don't really take it to heart. We make light of it - even turning it into something spiritual or parabolic. What nice words, we think. Perhaps somebody needs to hear those words. Our Jesus is such a nice Shepherd. He is filled with such a great big, gushy love! Sweet, sweet Jesus! But it's only after the the betrayal when we realize the thing deafening us to God's Word in our hearts was at the very heart of our betrayal.
Humility is a wonderful thing, isn't it? It's the stuff of Biblical Heros. What you thought you were perhaps exempt from the process? Think again.
In the story above it's important to remember that Jesus was far more interested in Peter's recovery - his return to ministry - than what took him out. Betrayal takes a heavy toll on a person, regardless of the circumstances. Jesus is aware of that. He walks it through with us, pours out the Father's love to us, and reminds us there is Life beyond life. All the same, Jesus is insistent: Peter needed to know that, after all was said and done, he still had a call to ministry, he still had Purpose and, indeed, he was still to play a crucial role in the Plans of God.
Peter's sin, as rotten as it was, did not cause God to run and hide in a closet. No, Jesus is a Friend of Sinners. He drew closer to Peter. He singled him out and used the denial for a Future Glory - a glory perhaps greater than could have been previously.
Gods Word never returns void. He's not going to let a speed bump take us you of the Race. He has much bigger fish to fry.
A few days later, on the beach, Jesus says nothing about Peter's sin and says everything about the original Call on his life. "Do you still love me? Then, let's get on with it. Feed my sheep"
What? Even when I've sliced off the ear of a solder and you had to heal him? Feed my sheep. What? Even after I've denied you three times before others who need to know the Love of God? Feed my sheep. What? Even when I've suffocated the your Fire by warming myself around the fires of my own comfort and misplaced passion? Yes, dude, feed my sheep! As I've told you before, when you are restored, strengthen your brothers.
A well-healed limb is often stronger than the original. What is it with our God? He not only restores the years the locusts have eaten, but he makes the remaining years even more fruitful so that the glory of yesterday is shadowed in the glory of the Day.
Such is the power of God's forgiveness in a heart of flesh.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Matthew Devotion 26:25
"... then Judas, who was betraying him..."
Sacred Moments often bring out the worst in us.
As a fire boils up the issues to the surface of the broth, so does the Presence of God raise our rebelliousness to our hearts' surface. For our God is a consuming fire. In him all things are revealed, brought to the surface through the loving conviction of the Holy Spirit.
But the mere revelation of our impurities is not enough. For in our design we have been granted a certain risky freedom. Once our impurity has boiled to the surface we have the ability to release it into the rising steam, or recapture it - hurling it back into the the caverns of our tomb and seeping it all the more-so, as a demonic toxic spice, into the boil.
Why is it that our most sinful elements are revealed in our most holiest moments?
It is the Lamp of God, revealing that which he desires to heal, restore, or forgive. The fact that such abominable motives (and sometimes behavior) surface in the Sacred Moments is a given. The real question, however, is, "What will we to do with that which has been revealed?" Will we release the thing, assuming God brought it up for a Purpose? Or will we, like Judas, fully stripped in the All Knowing Mind of God, use the revelation as proof to justify our own twisted, hidden agenda?
Revealing our inner betrayer is one thing. What we do with it is quite another.
Rabbi, is it I? The same question rang from both the lips of Peter and of Judas - not unlike the same question, "How can this be?" rang from both the lips of Zacharias and Mary as they, too became unravelled in the Presence of the Revealer. Peter and the other 10 were humble. They were willing to be pierced with the conviction of their own human frailty. Their questioning was open. They were willing to acknowledge the fact that they may be carrying the DNA of a betrayer. But Judas? His questioning took on a different innuendo. He asked that same question - Rabbi, is it I - to justify the validity of his rebellion; or, perhaps worse, to assure God's blessing on it.
If God showed it to me, I must be right.
Later Peter, when hearing the crowing rooster, repented. In a mass of wailing, tears, and acknowledgment of harboring the thing he regretted most, the thing revealed was released (perhaps cast off?) into the Revealer of Things. Judas, however - though remorseful - did not repent. For him the thing revealed became self-integrated, returning to the depths of his system with double the hellish intent - so much so, in fact, that it killed both he and his Lord.
The secret here, I believe, is to walk into the depths of these Sacred Moments with sort of a "hold on loosely" demeanor. These moments happen to us daily. In the Scripture here, it happened at the Eucharist. But it can happen almost anywhere, especially in times of praise and worship, or in times of intimacy with the Lord.
When these things surface we need to choose to believe them. We need to look at our "broth" through the Lens of Light, seeing it for what it is, agreeing with our Lord - in all humility and contriteness - and, in that same moment, be willing to surrender the thing into the one who loves us and is the only One in Creation to redeem us from the cords of death and freely restore us in the Purposes of the Godhead.
Is it I, Lord?
Sacred Moments often bring out the worst in us.
As a fire boils up the issues to the surface of the broth, so does the Presence of God raise our rebelliousness to our hearts' surface. For our God is a consuming fire. In him all things are revealed, brought to the surface through the loving conviction of the Holy Spirit.
But the mere revelation of our impurities is not enough. For in our design we have been granted a certain risky freedom. Once our impurity has boiled to the surface we have the ability to release it into the rising steam, or recapture it - hurling it back into the the caverns of our tomb and seeping it all the more-so, as a demonic toxic spice, into the boil.
Why is it that our most sinful elements are revealed in our most holiest moments?
It is the Lamp of God, revealing that which he desires to heal, restore, or forgive. The fact that such abominable motives (and sometimes behavior) surface in the Sacred Moments is a given. The real question, however, is, "What will we to do with that which has been revealed?" Will we release the thing, assuming God brought it up for a Purpose? Or will we, like Judas, fully stripped in the All Knowing Mind of God, use the revelation as proof to justify our own twisted, hidden agenda?
Revealing our inner betrayer is one thing. What we do with it is quite another.
Rabbi, is it I? The same question rang from both the lips of Peter and of Judas - not unlike the same question, "How can this be?" rang from both the lips of Zacharias and Mary as they, too became unravelled in the Presence of the Revealer. Peter and the other 10 were humble. They were willing to be pierced with the conviction of their own human frailty. Their questioning was open. They were willing to acknowledge the fact that they may be carrying the DNA of a betrayer. But Judas? His questioning took on a different innuendo. He asked that same question - Rabbi, is it I - to justify the validity of his rebellion; or, perhaps worse, to assure God's blessing on it.
If God showed it to me, I must be right.
Later Peter, when hearing the crowing rooster, repented. In a mass of wailing, tears, and acknowledgment of harboring the thing he regretted most, the thing revealed was released (perhaps cast off?) into the Revealer of Things. Judas, however - though remorseful - did not repent. For him the thing revealed became self-integrated, returning to the depths of his system with double the hellish intent - so much so, in fact, that it killed both he and his Lord.
The secret here, I believe, is to walk into the depths of these Sacred Moments with sort of a "hold on loosely" demeanor. These moments happen to us daily. In the Scripture here, it happened at the Eucharist. But it can happen almost anywhere, especially in times of praise and worship, or in times of intimacy with the Lord.
When these things surface we need to choose to believe them. We need to look at our "broth" through the Lens of Light, seeing it for what it is, agreeing with our Lord - in all humility and contriteness - and, in that same moment, be willing to surrender the thing into the one who loves us and is the only One in Creation to redeem us from the cords of death and freely restore us in the Purposes of the Godhead.
Is it I, Lord?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Matthew Devotion 26:28
"... which is shed for you and for many..."
The Blood has not yet reached it's full potential.
For us it has, of course; for we have received the Gift of redemption. But there are those who have yet to appropriate the Blood in their own life's and allow it to pave their Way into Eternity.
There are the Judas' - he was seated at the table when Christ initiated the New Covenant and still became filled with satan, right there at that sacred moment! - people who sat with Jesus as friends yet have hardened their hearts with the appetites of the flesh, perhaps so much so they themselves have forgotten the sweetness of the Fruit they so once enjoyed.
There are those in foreign countries who have yet to hear the Good News. This Blood is for them, too. "For you and for many for the forgiveness of sins," as the Prayer Book reads. These are the outcast, the clueless, or the mentally challenged who will never be able to make a stand, lift a hand, or give public testimony to "Jesus as Lord and Savior."
The veins of Christ's Blood run deeper than the skin of religious protocol.
Christ's Blood - for many - flows un-endlessly from the Cross, flowing from the mountain and penetrating the deepest, darkest, caverns of the human condition; from CEO's to kids with needless stuck in their arms, from the redeemed to the not-yet-churched. The Blood is runs hard and violently from Golgotha, splitting rocks, ripping trees from their roots, snapping chords of generational sin, dislodging demons, and freeing anyone - everyone - of a forever in hell; anyone who merely gets a drop of It.
Such is the wonder working power of the Blood!
Recently I was celebrating the Eucharist and, as I lifted the silver Chalice above my head in offering it to the Lord I saw, in the Cup there - in the distorted circumference of it's reflection - the faces of the people standing there around the altar with me; each face reflected in and from the Cup of Grace. Yet, if Truth be realized, the whole of humanity was reflected in that Cup. I just couldn't see them. If I could, there would be so many faces - too many to number, too many to comprehend - in that Cup.
Such is the precious Blood of Christ who washes away our sins, nourishes us with his Life, empowers us with the Divinity to take up our Cross and rise with him the Golden City my means of an Ancient Way which is eternally stained with his Crimson Life.
Everyone we see, every tribe we study, every person in the late night bar, every person at the Easter's Sunrise service; all of humanity - past, present, and future - even if they were to be doubled in size, still would not shake nor exhaust the the Almighty power and Living Presence of our Father, in even one drop of the Blood.
For you, and for many.
The Blood has not yet reached it's full potential.
For us it has, of course; for we have received the Gift of redemption. But there are those who have yet to appropriate the Blood in their own life's and allow it to pave their Way into Eternity.
There are the Judas' - he was seated at the table when Christ initiated the New Covenant and still became filled with satan, right there at that sacred moment! - people who sat with Jesus as friends yet have hardened their hearts with the appetites of the flesh, perhaps so much so they themselves have forgotten the sweetness of the Fruit they so once enjoyed.
There are those in foreign countries who have yet to hear the Good News. This Blood is for them, too. "For you and for many for the forgiveness of sins," as the Prayer Book reads. These are the outcast, the clueless, or the mentally challenged who will never be able to make a stand, lift a hand, or give public testimony to "Jesus as Lord and Savior."
The veins of Christ's Blood run deeper than the skin of religious protocol.
Christ's Blood - for many - flows un-endlessly from the Cross, flowing from the mountain and penetrating the deepest, darkest, caverns of the human condition; from CEO's to kids with needless stuck in their arms, from the redeemed to the not-yet-churched. The Blood is runs hard and violently from Golgotha, splitting rocks, ripping trees from their roots, snapping chords of generational sin, dislodging demons, and freeing anyone - everyone - of a forever in hell; anyone who merely gets a drop of It.
Such is the wonder working power of the Blood!
Recently I was celebrating the Eucharist and, as I lifted the silver Chalice above my head in offering it to the Lord I saw, in the Cup there - in the distorted circumference of it's reflection - the faces of the people standing there around the altar with me; each face reflected in and from the Cup of Grace. Yet, if Truth be realized, the whole of humanity was reflected in that Cup. I just couldn't see them. If I could, there would be so many faces - too many to number, too many to comprehend - in that Cup.
Such is the precious Blood of Christ who washes away our sins, nourishes us with his Life, empowers us with the Divinity to take up our Cross and rise with him the Golden City my means of an Ancient Way which is eternally stained with his Crimson Life.
Everyone we see, every tribe we study, every person in the late night bar, every person at the Easter's Sunrise service; all of humanity - past, present, and future - even if they were to be doubled in size, still would not shake nor exhaust the the Almighty power and Living Presence of our Father, in even one drop of the Blood.
For you, and for many.
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