OMG! He Just Walked Through the Wall

Luke 24:36-43

Sometimes in a story, you get a vivid sense of what is really happening.  Luke’s account ignites that in me.  With the flair of the dramatic– Jesus, freshly resurrected from the dead, bursts into the room and he scares the bejeezus out of everyone. 

I guess it was one of those times when you just had to be there in order to really get it.

“Frightened” and “terrified”–it takes two words to describe this unearthly experience. 

Not only that, but they got real freaky, after all, He had to be a ghost!  I can only imagine their fear at that moment. I think everyone present bolted to the door.  But wait for a second!  “The door is still locked?! OMG, what has just happened?”

We see Jesus [I think he was lovingly amused] point out that he was still a human being–look at me!  Think for a second, have you ever tried to get a pet dog, who is so scared he’s peeing on the floor, to come to you?  I see the disciples kind of half crawling, stooped, and very unsure about this. 

They slowly encircle Jesus and as they come, I have to believe He’s laughing. He has returned from the dead. And they have no idea!

He is laughing from the pure joy of one who has endured the worst of a very real hell.

Jesus has come out on the other side, intact and fully real. I suspect Jesus is reveling at the moment, and he is among friends whom he loves and vice versa.  He is alive, he has done the impossible, and I can only imagine everyone is laughing and crying at the same time!

I believe each of us has walls. 

These borders give us security and protection. We feel we have to have them, or else. They protect us. The disciples feel like there’s security in numbers and safety in their walls that protect them. I can relate.

But Jesus insists on penetrating our walls.  

Suddenly we come face-to-face with the dead one who’s now alive. The crucified man now lives! Everything has changed.

It is the resurrection power–the most powerful force in the universe, more intense than the sun, or a nuclear reactor. It’s funny, when Moses prostrated himself before the Lord’s glory, he changed.  Not only that, but he had to take precautions to cover his face when he returned to camp. These disciples however have just seen the glory of God first-hand.

As broken believers, we must be prepared for any eventuality.  Jesus can and will burst into our homes, and into our very lives.  Can you hear him laugh? Can you see His joy?

When he comes, nothing really is the same again. He loves his disciples too much to leave them in a dark stuffy room. The resurrected Jesus is coming for you!

The Power of My Wound

A Poem by Linda K.

Healing doesn’t happen all at once.
Sexual trauma runs too deep,
is much too complex for simple remedies.

We have no Star Trek sickbay
or magic tricorder
to bind up the wounds,
erase the battle scars.

And would we want to if we could?
Would we walk away,
pretend it never happened,
we were never assaulted
violated… hated… berated…
made to feel shame and doubt?

Could we ignore the very truth of what we
know was wrong… evil… the vilest of all?
Could we simply walk away
and cease to bear witness
for those who come after?
Or maybe for those violated before
our own innocence was vanquished
but are yet to heal at all?

If we could be healed completely
in an instant, in the blink
of a selfish, knowing eye…

But to do so meant leaving
our sisters, our friends,
our daughters, even strangers,
without the hope of their presence?

Could we? Should we?

Because to heal 100 percent
I think is to forget every ounce,
every moment, of
the pain and struggle.

And to forget is to lose compassion.
So perhaps it is worth the
ups and downs of scars
that appear healed but sometimes,
more often than we’d like, bleed tears
of understanding helping others
feel not so alone.

Often I pray for complete healing.
For years I prayed to forget.
But then I remember that
without my wound
I am not me.

Without my wound
the scarring of my heart and soul,
I am powerless.

aasignLinda

AnotherFearlessYear.net

Front and Center

John 8:3-11

3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

John 8:3-11

I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me.

Especially not for me.

The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.

I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.

They put me front and center. They were going to test Him. They were going to destroy me.

These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.

Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

And it was then that Jesus looked directly at me.

I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood completely.

“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”

    Henry Ward Beecher

My Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/bryan.lowe

Especially Peter

Peter Running to the Empty Tomb, Burnard, c. 1898

“And now go and tell his disciples, and especially Peter, that he will go ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there, just as he told you.”

Mark 16:7, CEV

Poor Peter. Despairing over his personal darkness he has become completely undone.  His wound is beyond any human remedy.  No one can help him at this point. We do well to mark the fall of the ‘Rock.’ Peter is now how we understand our Father’s love.

Jesus had called him, the ‘Rock.’  This would become a bestowed nickname of a future transformation.  We use granite and marble when we want something to last for ages.  It is as permanent as we can make it. Peter is definitely a work-in-progress. His character is sand. He really doesn’t measure up.

Visiting a working quarry, you’ll find large machinery.  Men scale the walls with heavy drills.  At just the right spot they begin to bore a hole.  It is hard and intense work, but they are persistent.  The rock is unyielding, but they work relentlessly.

Soon they take the hole to the proper depth.  Explosives are hauled up, and the hole is carefully packed with dynamite.  The word used in the New Testament is the word “dunamis.”  It is translated from Greek into English as “power.”  Our word for “dynamite” is also a translation of that word.

Peter needs the dynamite power of the Holy Spirit. It is explosive. 

“But you will receive dynamite when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth.”
Acts 1:8

Jesus looks after each disciple before his resurrection.  He kindly gazes at Peter. Especially Peter.  He will need this new power to overcome his weaknesses. The dynamite of the Spirit will explode all over the Upper Room. Shifty Peter us about to become a rock.

His disciples, in just 50 days are going to meet the Holy Spirit. 

Peter was so transformed on Pentecost he would preach and 3,000 would believe and be baptized. He went from cowardly denier to bold preacher. The dunamis of God changed him that day (Acts 2).

As a broken believer, I see the image of Peter morphing into my own face. I have denied Him before others. I am ashamed of what I have done. My depression flares up and my heart goes down in a downward spiral. I must have the Holy Spirit’s authority to be free.

Bryan