Tag: God

It Was Love, Not Nails

nails-cross

When Jesus walked the Via Dolorosa to His execution, it was an intensely intentional act. There was no fear in being crucified. He carried His cross like a well earned trophy. Jesus understood perfectly what was going to happen. He was going to die for His friends.

“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd sacrifices his life for the sheep.”

John 10:11, NLT

It was love, and not nails that held Him on that cruel cross. He didn’t need to be fastened on it, His love for you and I would have held Him there. But nailed and splayed up before all, naked and alone, Jesus would “endure the shame.” And He would do this because we are His sheep. We belong to Him.

There is an immense amount of theology in all of this:

  • He was our substitution
  • He was our atonement
  • He was our redeemer.

I have hundreds of books full of information that tell me this. (They often just give me a headache.)

 “And when I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw everyone to myself.”

John 12:32, NLT

The fear of death has nipped our heels. It is a formidable and persistent enemy. But as our Lord was dying Himself, He destroyed death, dismantling its entire apparatus. It has been said, “For the believing Christian, the grave is just a doorway into eternity.”

The deep confidence of Jesus, approaching a hideous death, can now be ours. In a sense we can “piggyback” our faith on His. We can die with an assurance that our life is now eternal. In a sense, it’s like getting on an elevator, the doors close and we move up (or down). The doors open and we’re in an entirely different place. The elevator has only done what it is supposed to do, nothing more.

Dear one, I implore you to understand what has been done for you. It is a mighty act of God to assemble all of this for us. “Be glad” (Ps. 32.)

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A Cup of Cold Water in Jesus’ Name— by Jonathan Coe

Not everyone who is wounded is a wounded healer. Put another way, it’s possible to be wounded and suffer significant loss and not use that wound to minister healing to others. Much of this is related to how we go through the grieving process associated with our wound and loss. I learned this when I went through a divorce in 2008–2009. Not everyone agrees with how many stages of grief there are, but everyone agrees that it involves working through different phases of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance and often sorting through accompanying feelings of pain, guilt, loneliness, and hope.

I didn’t go through the grieving process associated with my divorce perfectly. There were missteps, stumbles, and things I wish I could do over. However, by the grace of God, I reached acceptance and hope and noticed that I was able to help other people who were working through broken relationships. Out of my wounds others were receiving healing and comfort.

In changing metaphors, rather than speaking in terms of wounds and healing, I’d like to talk in terms of water and refreshment: out of my experience I was able to, in an imperfect way, give thirsty people a cup of cold water. However, I’ve noticed that in both giving and receiving water over the years, how we go through the grieving process affects both the volume and quality of the water we give to others.

Before we drink it, water travels through rock and soil and can pick up large amounts of calcium and magnesium and becomes what we call “hard water.” If I grieve about a broken relationship and my forgiveness of the person who hurt me is incomplete, then I become hardened and end up giving hard water to those I share with about my experience. It may help a thirsty person, but God is calling me to buy a “water softener” and finish the forgiveness process so I can give better water to people I know and love.

If significant depression linked to my divorce still plagues me years after the dissolution of the marriage, that would definitely affect the volume of  water I can give to others. When I’m depressed, I can barely take care of me so how can I give you a cup of refreshing water for what you’re going through? The volume of water I can give is greatly reduced. I will need to revisit my grieving process and do some “emotional detective work,” perhaps with a therapist, to find out why I’m still depressed.

This is not a condemnation of those who have depression because of a chemical imbalance or some other issue. My heart goes out to you and I rejoice that there are medications that can help you find an emotional equilibrium and enable you to give others a cup of cold, clean water in the name of Jesus. Your fight with depression is a different fight than mine and I’m rooting for you as God upholds you through a difficult trial.

For many, the most dangerous stage in the grieving process is the one involving anger. We may be angry at someone who hurt us and how we feel they let us down. We may be angry at God because we thought life was going to be “X” and it turned out to be “Y.”

Anger, for a season, is a healthy response for someone who has been wounded and suffered loss. The Bible says, “Be angry and sin not” (Ephesians 4:26). But if the anger devolves into bitterness, then we have a major problem. The Bible also warns us against missing the grace of God and allowing a bitter root to grow up, cause trouble, and defile many (Hebrews 12:15). Sometimes water supplies get poisoned by arsenic, radon, or uranium. This is a grave matter because the water we have has been poisoned and will poison others.

In Exodus 15: 22–25, the Israelites had traveled three days without finding water. When they finally did find water at Marah, it was bitter. God told Moses to throw a particular piece of wood in the water. When he did this, the water became sweet. We have hope because in brokenness and in a radical dependence on Christ (the Piece of Wood), our waters too can be made sweet.

If you liked this post by Jonathan Coe, you might also like his new book, Letters from Fawn Creek, that is now available at this link:

https://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=9781628542035

Letters from Fawn Creek

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Not for Sale!

not for sale

What is the most valuable thing that you possess? A gold locket, a grandfather clock, or a ring? With that clearly defined, would you then trade that item? How much– offered $50,000 or a $500,000, would you sell it? Consider Genesis 25:27-34.

27 As the boys grew up, Esau became a skillful hunter. He was an outdoorsman, but Jacob had a quiet temperament, preferring to stay at home. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he enjoyed eating the wild game Esau brought home, but Rebekah loved Jacob.

29 One day when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau arrived home from the wilderness exhausted and hungry. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “I’m starved! Give me some of that red stew!” (This is how Esau got his other name, Edom, which means “red.”)

31 “All right,” Jacob replied, “but trade me your rights as the firstborn son.”

32 “Look, I’m dying of starvation!” said Esau. “What good is my birthright to me now?”

33 But Jacob said, “First you must swear that your birthright is mine.” So Esau swore an oath, thereby selling all his rights as the firstborn to his brother, Jacob.

34 Then Jacob gave Esau some bread and lentil stew. Esau ate the meal, then got up and left. He showed contempt for his rights as the firstborn.

Inserted into this conversation is a transaction of sorts– I give you this, for that. I’ve always read this straight, and had more questions than answers. I’m confused with how Esau could do such a stupid thing. Stew– for a “birthright”? What the ______? He’s a moron!

Then instead of straight I read this above passage and read into it a sense of humor. All of a sudden the situation came alive and the questions lifted. If Esau is joking, but Jacob is not it changes nothing. Esau is still a “dope.” But it explains how he trades the intangible and eternal for the edible and the temporary. “But I was just joking!”

Esau is left broken and sort of betrayed by Jacob. What he had was ripped off, and he had nothing to show for it. What he didn’t take seriously was by someone else. How often am I guilty of the same thing?

My own heirloom is precious. It is eternal. It is a relationship with God– intimacy with the Creator of my soul and of the universe. But I sell it off for something as trivial as a bowl of lentil stew. WHAT???!!! The enemy values what he does not possess. My salvation is real, and a precious gift. But Satan (my adversary) continually chips away at it, and I more or else could care less.

Esau scares me a bit. I am too much like him. I wear his sandals quite well. I ease up and dismiss what is real; I trade it for the world of illusory pleasure of the moment. I then must live with the consequences of my foolish choice. It is a bitter blow.

God forgives. When I do confess and repent a measure is retrieved for me. I choose to avoid the savory stew of the present and hold tight to my faith. It is the most precious thing I have.

“I am coming soon. Hold on to what you have, so that no one will take away your crown.”

Revelation 3:11, NLT

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A Case of Exceptional Goodness

“He wouldn’t do it. He said to his master’s wife, “Look, with me here, my master doesn’t give a second thought to anything that goes on here—he’s put me in charge of everything he owns. He treats me as an equal. The only thing he hasn’t turned over to me is you. You’re his wife, after all! How could I violate his trust and sin against God?”

 “She pestered him day after day after day, but he stood his ground. He refused to go to bed with her.”

Genesis 39:9-10, MSG

Joseph is a blazing star in the Old Testament.  Everything he does is remarkable. He carries this exceptionalism into all that he does, or directs.  He realizes the blessing he has been given.  He can easily describe his status– and he is quite aware of the deep presence that overshadows his life.  He will not pretend that any of this has come about as a result of his personal giftedness or goodness.

Joseph refuses to negotiate, for he knows who he is, exactly.  First, he is not Potiphar. He cannot make it seem otherwise.  The amazing things that have come upon Potiphar’s life, belong to him, and him alone.  Joseph has a sure understanding of this fact, and he does not try to blur the issues, no matter how “sweet and cute” the possibilities. He just says “no!”

When we look to Joseph, we find that he has retreated into a special place of protection.  For a man, there is a deep attraction for sexual conquest and pleasure. Joseph has processed this, way before us. And he is not enticed by this lie.  (And my friend, it is a lie.)

Joseph is a wonder.  He is full of grace and a certain goodness.  From him, we can fully understand a heart that is set apart by an exceptional sweetness. Joseph has a certain kindness and goodness.  He responds to all that is evil, with a greatness, and a complete awareness of what is right.

In our scriptural selection, we see clearly the effort that the wife of Potiphar’s wife made to seduce Joseph.  However, her lust will not direct his life.  He will not give in to his deep desires.  He simply refuses to enter into the seduction issues of an out-of-control passion.  He won’t be controlled by lust.

When we look directly at Joseph, we see a man who has chosen a deep path of faithfulness. He has separated himself from a difficult darkness.  He now is a real and definite example for us who must endure a deep testing of our own.  The darkness we face is especially crafty and exceptionally black.  We can only really trust in His promise to cover and sustain us. And to learn to say no!

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