Good

Good - Audio/Visual

Good

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Rom. 8:28)

Robben Island consists of three square miles of windswept land off the southern tip of Africa. Over the centuries it has served as the home for a prison, a leper colony, a mental asylum and a naval base. Most significantly, it was the home of one of the most famous political prisoners in history, Nelson Mandela. He opposed South African apartheid – a system designed to extend the rule and privilege of the white minority by excluding blacks from "whites only" buses, "whites only" beaches, and "whites only" hospitals, to name a few of the “whites only” restrictions. Blacks couldn’t even run for office or live in white neighborhoods. Apartheid legalized racism. And Mandela was the perfect man to challenge it.

As a descendant of royalty, he was educated in the finest schools. As the son of a Christian mother, he embraced her love for God and people. Under the tutelage of a tribal chief, he learned the art of compromise and consensus. And as a young black lawyer in Cape Town, he experienced a thousand slights and indignities which produced an inward fire to fight the system that imprisoned his people. Mandela was a force with which to be reckoned. He was passionate, bitter, given to retaliation. With his enviable pedigree and impressive stature (6’2,” 245 lbs.) he was, for many, the hope of the South African black culture. But then came August 5, 1962. Government officials arrested Mandela, convicted him of treason, and sent him to prison. And for the next twenty-seven years, he stared through wired windows. Surely he wondered how a season in prison could play a part in God's plan.

Maybe you've asked similar questions – maybe not about time in prison, but about your time in a dead-end job, or living in a puny town or a feeble body. Certain elements of life make sense. But what about autism, Alzheimer's, or Mandela's prison sentence? Was Paul including those conditions when he wrote Romans 8:28? “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” And we know…. We do? Really? There are a million things we don’t know. We don’t know if the economy will dip, or if our team will win. We don’t know what our spouse is thinking, or how our kids will turn out. We don't even know "what we ought to pray for." (Romans 8:26) But according to Paul, we can be absolutely certain that God works in all things.

Panta is the Greek word for “all,” as in "panoramic" or "panacea" or "pandemic." It means all-inclusive. God works, not through a few things, or through the good things, best things or even the easy things, but in "all things." Your life is a crafted narrative written by a good God who is working toward your supreme good. God is neither slipshod nor haphazard. He planned creation according to a calendar. And the death of Jesus was not an afterthought, nor was it Plan B, or some sort of an emergency solution. Jesus died "when the set time had fully come" (Galatians 4:4) according to God's "deliberate plan and foreknowledge." (Acts 2:23) In other words, God isn't making up a plan as he goes along. Nor did he simply wind up the clock and walk away. "The LORD will not turn back until he has executed and accomplished the intentions of his mind." (Jeremiah 30:24) "In him we were also chosen . . . according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will." (Ephesians 1:11) “Everything” changes everything. And the Apostle Paul's life proves his words.

Paul grew up in Tarsus. He called it "an important city." (Acts 21:39) He wasn't exaggerating. Tarsus sat only a few miles from the coast and served as a hub for sailors, pirates and merchants from all over Europe and Asia. Any child raised in Tarsus would have heard a dozen languages, and witnessed a tapestry of cultures. Tarsus was also a depot city on the Roman highway system. The empire boasted a network of roads that connected business centers of the ancient world – Ephesus; Iconium; Derbe; Antioch; and Caesarea. While young Paul likely didn't visit these cities, he grew up hearing about them.

Tarsus tattooed a Mediterranean map in his heart, and a keen intellect in his mind. Tarsus rivaled the academic seats of Alexandria and Athens. Paul conversed with students in the streets and, at the right age, became a student himself. He learned the language of his day: Greek. He mastered it. He spoke it. He wrote it. He thought it. Paul not only spoke the international language of the world, but he possessed the world’s passport. He was born a Jew and a Roman citizen. So, whenever he traveled throughout the empire, he was entitled to all the rights and privileges of a Roman citizen. He could enter any port, and was treated, not as a slave or foreigner, but as a freeman.

Young Paul left Tarsus with everything an itinerant missionary would need: cultural familiarity, linguistic skills, documents for travel, and a trade for earning a living – he was a tent maker. And that was only the beginning. Paul's parents sent him to Jerusalem for rabbinical studies. He memorized large sections of the Torah and digested massive amounts of rabbinical law. He was a valedictorian-level student, a Hebrew of Hebrews. He bragged about it. "I was advancing in Judaism beyond many of my own age among my people, so extremely zealous was I for the traditions of my fathers." (Galatians 1:14)

But before Paul was following God, God was leading Paul. He gave him an education, a vocation, and all the necessary documentation. He schooled Paul in the Law of Moses and the lingua franca of his day. Who then better to present Jesus as the fulfillment of the law than a scholar of the law? But Paul had a violent side, too. He tore husbands from their homes, and moms from their children. He declared jihad against the church, and spilled the blood of disciples. (Acts 22:4) Could God use this ugly chapter to advance his cause? That’s not a hypothetical question – we all have seasons that are hard to explain.

Before we knew God's story, we made a mess of our own. Even afterward, we're prone to demand our own way, cut our own path and hurt people in the process. So, can God make good out of our bad? He did with Paul. "Now it happened, as I journeyed and came near Damascus at about noon, suddenly a great light from heaven shone around me. And I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me . . ." (Acts 22:6) Saying what? Saying something like "I'm going to give you a taste of your own medicine"? Or, "Back to the dust with you, you Christian-killer"? Or, "Prepare to meet your Maker"? Did Paul expect to hear words like these? If so, he didn't. Even before he requested mercy, he was offered mercy. Jesus told him: “I have appeared to you to appoint you as my servant and witness.” (Acts 26:16)

Jesus transformed Paul, the card-carrying legalist, into a champion of mercy. Who would have thought? Yet who would be better qualified? Paul could write epistles of grace by dipping his pen into the inkwell of his own experiences. He’d learned Greek in the schools of Tarsus, tent making in the home of his father, and the Torah at the feet of Gamaliel. And he learned about love when Jesus paid him a personal visit on the Damascus Highway. “All things” worked together; all of his life’s experiences.

It’s a picture of God's work in us. All the transfers, layoffs, breakdowns, breakups and breakouts. Difficulties. Opportunities. All of them – sifted and stirred and popped into the oven. Heaven knows, we've felt the heat and we've wondered if God's choice of ingredients will result in anything worth serving. And If Nelson Mandela had those same concerns, no one could blame him.

His prison life was harsh. He was confined to a six-by-six-foot concrete room. It had one small window that overlooked the courtyard. He had a desk, a mattress, a chair, three blankets and a rusted-iron sanitary bucket with a 10” concave porcelain top for washing and shaving. Meals came from corn: breakfast was a porridge of corn scraped from the cob; lunch and supper consisted of corn on the cob; coffee was roasted corn mixed with water. Mandela and the other prisoners were awakened at 5:30 a.m. They crushed rocks into gravel until noon, ate lunch, and then worked until 4:00 p.m. Back in the cell at 5:00, asleep by 8:00. And discrimination continued even in the prison. Africans, like Mandela, were required to wear short pants and were denied bread. Yet God used it all to shape Nelson Mandela.

The prisoner read widely: Leo Tolstoy and John Steinbeck. He exercised daily: a hundred fingertip push-ups, two hundred sit-ups, fifty deep knee bends. Most of all he honed the capacity to compromise and forgive. He developed courtesy in all situations, disarming even the guards who had been intentionally placed by his cell to trouble him. He became particularly close to one jailer who, over two decades, read the Bible and discussed Scripture with Mandela. "All men,” Mandela reflected later, “have a core of decency, and . . . if their heart is touched, they are capable of changing." After twenty-seven years of confinement, at the age of seventy-two, Mandela was released. Those who knew him well described the pre-prison Mandela as "cocky and pugnacious." But the refined Mandela? "I came out mature," he said. He was devoted to "rationality, logic, and compromise." Journalists noted his lack of bitterness. And within four years Mandela was elected president and set out to lead South Africa out of apartheid and into a new era of equality.

God needed an educated, sophisticated leader who'd mastered the art of patience and compromise, so he tempered Mandela in prison. He needed a culture-crossing, Greek-speaking, border-passing, Torah-quoting, self-supporting missionary, so he gave grace to Paul, and Paul shared grace with the world. And you? In a moment before moments, your Maker looked into the future and foresaw the needs and demands of your generation. He instilled, and is instilling within you everything you need to fulfill his plan in this era. "God made us to do good works, which God planned in advance for us to live our lives doing." (Ephesians 2:10)

Do good and see if, in all things, it’s actually a good God working for those who love him.

Grace,

Randy

Doors

Doors - Audio/Visual

Doors

Paul and Silas traveled through the area of Phrygia and Galatia, because the Holy Spirit had prevented them from preaching the word in the province of Asia at that time. Then coming to the borders of Mysia, they headed north for the province of Bithynia, but again the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them to go there. So instead, they went on through Mysia to the seaport of Troas. That night Paul had a vision: A man from Macedonia in northern Greece was standing there, pleading with him, “Come over to Macedonia and help us!” So we decided to leave for Macedonia at once, having concluded that God was calling us to preach the Good News there. (Acts 16: 6-10)

Many years ago, I came home to a house of blocked doors. Not just shut doors, closed doors, or even locked doors, but blocked doors. Blame them on Shelby, our German Shepherd/Samoyed mix, who, on most accounts, was a terrific dog. When it came to kids and company, Shelby set a tail-wagging standard. But when it came to doors, Shelby just didn’t get it. Other dogs bark when they want out of the house; Shelby scratched the door. She was the canine version of Freddy Krueger. Thanks to her, each of the doors in our house had Shelby marks. We tried to teach her to bark, whine, even whistle; no luck. Shelby thought doors were meant to be clawed. So we came up with a solution: a doggy door.

We installed a Shelby-sized opening in the wall of the family room leading out to the back patio, and to teach Shelby to use the new convenience we blocked every other exit. We stacked furniture five feet deep and twice as wide. Eventually, Shelby got the message. She wasn't going out those doors. But I could tell that her feelings had been hurt. I came home once to find her with drooping ears and a limp tail. She looked at the blocked door, and then at me. "How could you do this to me?" her eyes pleaded. She walked from stack to stack. She didn't understand what was going on. And maybe you don't either.

You try one door after another, yet no one responds to your resume. No university accepts your application. No doctor has a solution for your illness. No buyers look at your house. Obstacles pack your path. Road, barricaded. Doorway, padlocked. You, like Shelby, walk from one blocked door to another. Have you ever been frustrated by a blocked door? If so, you have a friend in the apostle Paul. He, Silas and Timothy were on their second missionary journey. On his first, Paul had enjoyed success at every stop. "They began to report all things that God had done with them and how He had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles." (Acts 14:27) God opened doors into Cyprus, Antioch and Iconium. He opened the door of grace at the Jerusalem council and spurred spiritual growth in every city. "The churches were being strengthened in the faith, and were increasing in number daily." (Acts 16:5) Then, the missionaries felt the spiritual gusts at their backs. But now, all of a sudden, they faced a headwind.

“Paul and Silas traveled through the area of Phrygia and Galatia, because the Holy Spirit had prevented them from preaching the word in the province of Asia at that time. Then coming to the borders of Mysia, they headed north for the province of Bithynia, but again the Spirit of Jesus did not allow them to go there.” (Acts 16:6-7) In other words, Paul had set his sights on Asia. Yet no doors opened. So the three turned north to Bithynia but encountered more blocked doors. They jiggled the knobs and pressed against the entrances but no access. We aren't told how or why God blocked the door. Just that he did. And he still does.

God owns the keys to every door. “What he opens no one can shut, and what he shuts no one can open.” (Revelation 3:7) Once God closes a door, no one can open it. Once God shut the door of Noah's ark, only he could open it until on dry land. Once he directed the soldiers to seal the tomb of Jesus, only he could open it. Once he blocks a door, we can’t open it. During a season of blocked doors, we, like Shelby, can get frustrated. It’s a classic God's story/our story contrast. From our perspective we see setbacks. God, however, sees opportunities. God will close the wrong doors so he can lead us through the right one. And as we mature in Christ, closed doors take on a new meaning. We no longer see them as interruptions of our plan, but as indications of God's plan. That’s what Paul learned.

God blocked his missionary team from going north, south and east. Only west remained, so they ended up at Asia's westernmost point. They stood with their toes in the sand and looked out over the Aegean sea. And as they slept that evening, "Paul had a vision of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, 'Come over to Macedonia and help us.'" (Acts 16:9) The closed doors in Asia led to an open-armed invitation to Europe. "Therefore, sailing from Troas, we ran a straight course to Samothrace, and the next day came to Neapolis, and from there to Philippi." (Acts 16:11-12) They ran a "straight course." The wind was at their backs again. Blocked passages became full sails.

After several days in Philippi, Paul and his team decided to attend a riverside prayer service organized by some of the local Jews. While there, they met Lydia. "One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul's message." (Acts 16:14) Now if you read that verse too quickly you'll miss the account of the first convert in the West. Christianity was born in the East, but the seeds of grace rode the winds of sovereignty over the Aegean Sea, fell on Grecian soil, and bore fruit in Philippi. Christ had his first European disciple . . . and she was a she. Is Lydia the reason the Holy Spirit blocked Paul's path? Was God ready to highlight the value of his daughters? Perhaps. In a culture that enslaved and degraded women, God elevated them as co-heirs of salvation with men. Need proof? The first person in the Western world to receive the Christian promise, or host a missionary was a woman.

With Lydia’s support Paul and his team got to work. In fact, their efforts in Philippi were so successful that the pagan religious leaders panicked; people were turning away from the temples and the idol makers were losing their incomes. So they made up a story against Paul and Silas. “Then the multitude rose up together against them; and the magistrates tore off their clothes and commanded them to be beaten with rods. And when they had laid many stripes on them, they threw them into prison, commanding the jailer to keep them securely. Having received such a charge, he put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks.” (Acts 16:22-24) Ah, the old, familiar sound of keys turning and locks clicking. But this time, the doors swung closed on the hinges of a prison.

Paul and Silas could have groaned, "Oh no, not again. Not another locked door." But they didn't complain. From the depths of the prison emerged the most unexpected of sounds: praise and prayer. "About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them." (Acts 16:25) Their feet were in stocks, yet their minds were in heaven. How could they sing at a time like that? The doors were slammed shut. Their feet were in stocks. Backs ribboned with wounds. Where’d their song come from? There’s only one answer: they trusted God.

“The ways of the Lord are right; the righteous walk in them.” (Hosea 14:9) "God will always give what is right to his people who cry to him night and day, and he will not be slow to answer them." (Luke 18:7) When God locks a door, it needs to be locked. When he blocks a path, it needs to be blocked. When he stuck Paul and Silas in prison, God had a plan for the jailer. As Paul and Silas sang, God shook the prison. "At once all the prison doors flew open, and everyone's chains came loose." (Acts 16:26) There God goes again, blasting open the most secure doors in town. When the jailer realized what had happened, he assumed all the prisoners had escaped and drew his sword to take his life. But when Paul told him otherwise, the jailer brought the two missionaries out and asked, "What must I do to be saved?" (Acts 16:30) Paul told him to believe. He did, and he and all his family were baptized. The jailer washed their wounds, and Jesus washed his sins.

God shut the door of the jail cell so that he could open the heart of the jailer. God uses closed doors to advance his cause. He closed the womb of a young Sarah so he could display his power to the elderly one. He shut the palace door on Moses-the-prince so he could open shackles through Moses-the-liberator. He marched Daniel out of Jerusalem captivity so he could use Daniel in Babylon. And Jesus. Yes, even Jesus knew the challenge of a blocked door. When he requested a path that bypassed the cross, God said “No.” But he said “No” to Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane so he could say “Yes” to us at the gates of heaven.

God's goal is people. He'll stir up a storm to display his power. He'll keep you out of Asia so you'll speak to Lydia. He'll place you in prison so you'll talk to the jailer. It's not that our plans are bad. It’s just that God's plans are better. "My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts," says the Lord. "And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine. For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:8-9)

Back then, that’s what we were trying to teach Shelby. We blocked the doors so she could have a better one. And that’s what God is trying to teach us today. Your blocked door doesn't mean God doesn't love you. It’s actually quite the opposite. It's proof that he does. So, until God opens the next door, praise him in the hallway.

Grace,

Randy

Wait

Wait - Audio/Visual

Wait

“People of Israel, listen! God publicly endorsed Jesus the Nazarene by doing powerful miracles, wonders and signs through him, as you well know. But God knew what would happen, and his prearranged plan was carried out when Jesus was betrayed. With the help of lawless Gentiles, you nailed him to a cross and killed him. But God released him from the horrors of death and raised him back to life, for death could not keep him in its grip. So let everyone in Israel know for certain that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, to be both Lord and Messiah!” ¶Peter’s words pierced their hearts, and they said to him and to the other apostles, “Brothers, what should we do?” (Acts 2:22-24; 36-37)

What got into Peter? Just seven weeks ago he was hiding because of Jesus; now he’s proclaiming the death of Jesus and calling the assembled crowd a bunch of murderers. Before the crucifixion, he denied Jesus; now he’s proclaiming him the Christ. On the eve of Good Friday, you couldn't get him to say a word. Today, you can't get him to shut up. "My fellow Jews, and all of you who are in Jerusalem, listen to me. Pay attention to what I have to say." (Acts 2:14)

What got into him? He was a coward at the crucifixion. An innocent observation from a servant girl undid him. Soldiers didn't bludgeon him. The Sanhedrin didn't browbeat him. Rome didn't threaten to deport him. No, a waitress from the downtown diner heard his accent and said he knew Jesus. Peter panicked. He not only denied his Lord; he bleeped the very idea. "Then Peter began to place a curse on himself and swear, 'I don't know the man!'" (Matthew 26:74) But look at him on the day of Pentecost, declaring to a crowd of thousands, "God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, to be both Lord and Messiah!" (Acts 2:36) Gutsy language. Lynch mobs feed off of that kind of stuff. The same crowd that shouted, "Crucify him!" could crucify Peter, too. From wimp to warrior in fifty days. What happened?

We admire the Pentecost Peter, but more often identify with the Passover Peter. We battle addictions we can't shake, pasts we can't escape, bills we can't pay, and sorrows that won't fade. Our convictions wrinkle, and our resolve melts into a puddle of regret. And we wonder why. We look at other believers and ask, “Why is her life so fruitful and mine so barren?” “Why is his life so powerful and mine so weak?” “Aren't we saved by the same Christ? Don't we read the same Scripture and rally around the same cross?” Why do some look like the early Peter and others like the latter? Maybe the real question is, “Why do I vacillate between the two in any given week?”

Jesus embedded an answer to that question in his final earthly message. He told Peter and the other followers, "Wait here to receive the promise from the Father which I told you about. John baptized people with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit." (Acts 1:4-5) So what got into Peter? God's Spirit got into Peter. Ten days after Jesus' ascension into heaven, "all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit." (Acts 2:4) The followers were drenched in power. As declared by the prophet Joel (Joel 2:28-32), they all were "sons and daughters . . . young men . . . old men . . . servants, both men and women." (Acts 2:17-18) The Holy Spirit, in his own time and according to his own way, filled the followers with supernatural strength. Wasn’t that Jesus’ promise?

As his days on earth came to an end, he said, "But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you." (John 16:7) The bad news: Jesus was going away. The good news: Jesus was sending them the Spirit. During his earthly ministry Jesus lived near and with the disciples. The Holy Spirit, however, would live in the disciples. What Jesus did with the followers, the Spirit would do through them, and now with us. Jesus healed; the Spirit heals through us. Jesus taught; the Spirit teaches through us. Jesus comforted; the Spirit comforts through us. The Spirit continues the work of Christ. The Holy Spirit isn’t enthusiasm, compassion, or bravado. He might stimulate those emotions, but he himself is a person. He determines itineraries (Acts 16:6), distributes spiritual gifts (1 Cor. 12:7-11), and selects church leaders. (Acts 13:2) He teaches (John 14:26), guides (John 16:13), and comforts. (John 16:7) "He dwells with you and will be in you." (John 14:1)

Occasional guest? Hardly. The Holy Spirit is a year-round resident in the hearts of his children who believe. His power becomes our power. But then why do we suffer from power failures? Well, it’s kind of like the story of a Welsh woman who lived many years ago in a remote valley and who’d determined that it would finally be worth the cost and trouble to have electricity in her home. Several weeks after the installation, however, the power company noticed that she’d barely used any electricity. So they sent a meter reader out to her property to see what was wrong. "Is there a problem?" the technician asked. "No," she answered, "we're quite satisfied. Every night we turn on the electric lights to see how to light our lamps."

We're prone to do the same: depend on God's Spirit to save us but not to sustain us. We’re like the Galatians whom Paul asked, "After starting your new lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort?" (Galatians 3:3) We turn to the Spirit to get us started, and then we continue in our own strength. The Christians in Ephesus did the same thing. The apostle Paul assured them that they had received the Spirit. God "put his special mark of ownership on you by giving you the Holy Spirit that he had promised." (Ephesians 1:13) Even so, he had to urge them to be "filled with the Spirit." (Ephesians 5:18) Interesting. Can a person be saved and not full of the Holy Spirit? Apparently. They were in Ephesus, and the same thing happened in Jerusalem, too.

When the apostles instructed the church to select deacons, they said, "So, brothers and sisters, choose seven of your own men who are good, full of the Spirit and full of wisdom." (Acts 6:3) The fact that men "full of the Spirit" were to be chosen suggests that men not full of the Spirit were also available. In other words, we can have the Spirit but not let the Spirit of God have us. When God's Spirit directs us, however, we actually "keep in step with the Spirit." (Galatians 5:25) It’s like he’s the drum major; we’re the marching band. He’s the sergeant; we’re the platoon. He directs and leads; we obey and follow. But that’s not always the easiest thing to do because we all tend to go our own way.

Many years ago, I installed a new HP ink cartridge in my printer. But when I sent my document to the printer, the page was completely blank. Nothing. It was probably half an hour before I noticed this thin, little strip of translucent tape covering the ink jet of the cartridge. There was plenty of ink in the new cartridge, but until the tape was removed, an impression couldn’t be left. So, is there anything in your life that needs to be removed? Any impediment to seeing the impression of God's Spirit?

The truth is that we can grieve the Spirit with our angry words (Ephesians 4:29-30; Isaiah 63:10), and resist the Spirit in our disobedience. (Acts 7:51) We can even test or conspire against the Spirit. (Acts 5:9) We can also quench the Spirit by having no regard for God's teachings. "Never damp the fire of the Spirit, and never despise what is spoken in the name of the Lord." (1 Thess. 5:19-20)

Here’s something that may help. We know that the "fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control." (Galatians 5:22-23) God's Spirit creates and distributes these characteristics. They are like indicator lights on our spiritual dashboards. Whenever we sense them, or see them, we know we’re walking in the Spirit. But whenever we lack them, or the light goes out, we know we’re out of step with the Spirit. Walking in the Spirit is responding to the promptings that God gives us. Don't sense any nudging? Then be patient and wait. Jesus told the disciples to "wait for the gift my Father promised . . . the Holy Spirit." (Acts 1:4-5)

Abraham waited 25 years for his promised son. Moses waited 40 years in the wilderness. Jesus waited 30 years before he began his ministry. God instills seasons of silence in his plan. Winter is needed for the soil to bear fruit in the spring. Time is needed for a crop to develop. And disciples wait for the movement of God. Wait for him to move, nudge and then direct you. Like the novices on Dancing with the Stars, who let the professionals lead, let his Spirit lead you. It's nice to be led by a master. “He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.” (Psalm 25:9) “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." (Isaiah 30:21)

Wait on the Spirit. If Peter and the apostles needed his help, don't we? They walked with Jesus for three years, heard his preaching, and saw his miracles. They saw the body of Christ buried in the grave and raised from the dead. They witnessed his upper room appearance and heard his instructions. Hadn’t they received the best possible training? How could they not be ready? Yet Jesus told them to wait on the Spirit. "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised . . . the Holy Spirit." (Acts 1:4-5) Learn to wait, to be silent, to listen for his voice. Cherish stillness; sensitize yourself to his touch. "Just think – you don't need a thing, you've got it all! All God's gifts are right in front of you as you wait expectantly for our Master Jesus to arrive on the scene." (1 Corinthians 1:7-8)

We don’t have to hurry or scurry. The Spirit-led life doesn’t panic; it trusts. “God's power is very great for us who believe. That power is the same as the great strength God used to raise Christ from the dead and put him at his right side in the heavenly world.” (Ephesians 1:19-20) The same hand that pushed the rock from the tomb can shove your doubts away. The same power that stirred the still heart of Christ can put life into your flagging faith. The same strength that put Satan on his heels can, and will, defeat Satan in your life. Just keep the power supply on. Don’t be like that Welsh woman who used her new-found power just so she could locate, and then light the lamps of her past.

Grace,

Randy

Preface

Preface - Audio/Visual

Preface

Those who are wise will find a time and a way to do what is right, for there is a time and a way for everything, even when a person is in trouble. Indeed, how can people avoid what they don’t know is going to happen? None of us can hold back our spirit from departing. None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death. There is no escaping that obligation. (Eccl. 8:6-8)

Carl McCunn, an affable man with a love of the outdoors, moved to Alaska in the late 1970’s. He took a trucking job on the Trans-Alaska Pipeline where he made good money and concocted an adventure that still bewilders the 49^th state. At the age of thirty-five, he embarked on a five-month photographic expedition in the wilds of Alaska. Friends described how seriously he prepared for the quest, devoting a year to plan-making and detail-checking. He solicited advice and purchased supplies. And then, in March 1981, he hired a bush pilot to drop him at a remote lake near the Coleen River, some seventy miles northeast of Fort Yukon. He took two rifles, a shotgun, fourteen hundred pounds of provisions, and five hundred rolls of film. He set up his tent and set about his season of isolation, blissfully unaware of an overlooked detail that would cost him dearly. You see, he’d made no arrangements to be picked up, and overlooking that particular detail would ultimately cost him his life.

His unbelievable blunder didn't dawn on him until August. We know that because of a hundred-page loose-leaf diary the Alaska state troopers found near Carl’s body the following February. In an understatement the size of Denali, McCunn wrote: "I think I should have used more foresight about arranging my departure." As the days shortened and air chilled, he began searching the ground for food and the skies for rescue. He was running low on ammunition. Hiking out was impossible. He had no solution but to hope someone in the city would notice his absence. By the end of September, the snow was piling up, the lake was frozen, and his supplies were nearly gone. His body fat began to metabolize, making it more difficult to stay warm. Temperatures hovered around zero, and frostbite began to attack his fingers and toes. By late November, McCunn was out of food, strength and optimism. One of his final diary entries reads, "This is sure a slow and agonizing way to die."

Isolated with no rescue. Trapped with no exit. Nothing to do but wait for the end. Chilling. Literally. And puzzling. Why no exit strategy? Didn't he know that every trip comes to an end? It's not like his excursion would last forever. Ours won't, either. Hearts will feel a final pulse. Lungs will empty a final breath. Unless Christ returns before my appointed time, I will die. And so will you. As Fred Kuehner said in his book, Fundamentals of Faith, "Death is the most democratic institution on earth. . . . It allows no discrimination, tolerates no exceptions. The mortality rate of mankind is the same the world over: one death per person." Or, as the psalmist rather frankly observes, "No one can live forever; all will die. No one can escape the power of the grave." (Psalm 89:48)

Young and old, good and bad, rich and poor. Neither gender is spared; no class is exempt. "None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death." (Ecclesiastes 8:8) The geniuses, the rich, the poor – no one outruns it, and no one outsmarts it. Julius Caesar died. Elvis died – we think. John Kennedy died. Princess Diana died. We all die. Nearly 2 people a second, more than 6,000 an hour, more than 155,000 every day, about 57 million a year. We don't escape death.

The finest surgeon might enhance your life but can't eliminate your death. The Hebrew writer was particularly blunt: "People are destined to die once." (Hebrews 9:27) Exercise all you want. Eat nothing but health food. Pop fistfuls of vitamins. Stay out of the sun. Stay away from alcohol. Stay off drugs. Run a marathon. Train with a triathlete. Do your best to stay alive and, still, you will die. Death seems like such a dead end. No pun intended. That’s until we read Jesus' resurrection story. "He is not here. He has risen from the dead as he said he would." (Matthew 28:6)

It was Sunday morning after the Friday execution. Jesus' final breath had sucked the air out of the universe. As his body seemed to be moldering in the grave, no one was placing bets on a resurrection. His enemies were quite satisfied with the job they’d done. The spear to his side guaranteed his demise. His tongue was silenced. His last deed was done. They raised a toast to a dead Jesus. Their only concern was those pesky disciples. So, the religious leaders made a request of Pilate: "So give the order for the tomb to be made secure until the third day. Otherwise, his disciples may come and steal the body and tell the people that he has been raised from the dead." (Matthew 27:64)

But no concern was really necessary. The disciples were in meltdown. When Jesus was arrested, "all the disciples forsook Him and fled." (Matthew 26:56) Peter followed from a distance, but soon caved in and cursed Christ. John watched Jesus die, but we have no record that John ever gave any thought to seeing him again. The other followers didn't even linger; they cowered in Jerusalem's cupboards and corners for fear of the cross that bore their names, just like their teacher’s.

No one dreamed of a Sunday morning miracle. Peter didn't ask John, "What will you say when you see Jesus?" Mary didn't ponder, “What will he look like?” They didn't encourage each other with quotes of his promised return. They could have. At least four times Jesus had said words like these: "The Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of men, and they will kill Him. And after He is killed, He will rise the third day." (Mark 9:31) You'd think someone would have mentioned this prophecy and maybe done the math. "Hmm, he died yesterday. Today is the second day. He promised to rise on the third day. Tomorrow is the third day . . . Friends, I think we'd better wake up early tomorrow." But Saturday saw no such plans. On Saturday the Enemy had won, courage was gone, and hope had “caught the last train to the coast.” (American Pie, Don McLean.) They planned to embalm Jesus, not talk to him.

“When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, ‘Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?’” (Mark 16:1-3) Do you see an Easter parade here? A victory march? Hardly. More like a funeral procession. It may have been Sunday morning, but their world was stuck on Saturday. So, it was left to the angel to lead them into Sunday. “There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.’" (Matt. 28:2-6)

God shook up the cemetery. Trees swayed, and the ground trembled. Boulders bounced, and the women struggled to maintain their balance. They looked in the direction of the tomb only to see the guards – scared stiff, paralyzed and sprawled on the ground. Hard to miss the irony here: the guards of the dead appear dead, while the dead one appears to be living. And the angel sat on the dislodged tombstone. He did not stand in defiance, or crouch in alertness. He sat. Again, the irony. The very rock intended to mark the resting place of a dead Christ became the resting place of his living angel. And then the announcement. "He has risen." Three words in English, but just one in Greek: Egerthe.

So much rests on the validity of that one word. If it’s false, then the whole of Christianity folds like a cheap suit. But, if it’s true, then God's story has turned your final chapter into a preface. If the angel was correct, then you can believe this: Jesus descended into the coldest cell of death's prison and just when the demons began to dance, Jesus pressed pierced hands against the inner walls of the cavern and shook the cemetery. The ground rumbled, the tombstones tumbled and out he marched, the cadaver turned king; the mask of death in one hand and the keys of heaven in the other. Egerthe. He has risen! Not risen from sleep. Not risen from confusion. Not risen from a stupor or from slumber. Not spiritually raised from the dead; physically raised.

The women and disciples didn't see a phantom or experience some gushy sentiment. They saw Jesus in the flesh. "It is I myself!" he assured them. (Luke 24:39) The Emmaus-bound disciples thought Jesus was a fellow pilgrim. His feet touched the ground. His hands touched the bread. Mary mistook him for a gardener. Thomas studied his wounds. The disciples ate fish that he’d cooked, and bread that he’d baked. The resurrected Christ did physical deeds in a physical body. "I am not a ghost," he explained. (Luke 24:39) "Handle Me and see, for a spirit does not have flesh and bones as you see I have." (vs. 39)

The bodily resurrection means everything. If Jesus lives on only in spirit and deed, the he’s but one of a thousand dead heroes. But if he lives on in flesh and bone, he is the King who pressed his heel against death’s head. And what he did with his own grave he promises to do with yours: empty it. Death is not the final chapter in your story. In death you will step into the arms of the One who declared, "I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die." (John 11:25-26)

Winston Churchill believed it. According to Churchill’s instructions, two buglers were positioned high in the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. At the conclusion of the service, the first one played taps – the signal of a day completed. Immediately thereafter, and with the sounds of the first song still ringing in the air, the second bugler played reveille – the song of a day begun. Appropriate. Death is not a pit but a passageway, not a crisis but the turn of a corner. Dominion of the grim reaper? No. It’s the territory of the Soul Keeper, who will someday announce, "Your dead will live, your corpses will get to their feet. All you dead and buried, wake up! Sing! Your dew is morning dew catching the first rays of sun, the earth bursting with life, giving birth to the dead." (Isaiah 26:19) Let reveille play.

Grace,

Randy