Monday, April 27, 2020

The Preparing Christ

There are a lot of cool things about being in a cross-cultural relationship and specifically one that involves Middle Eastern culture. One of those things is the opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of Scripture through growing in understanding of the place in which much of it was played out. Reading the psalmists cry, “I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come?” (Ps. 121:1, ESV) has a whole new poignancy after you’ve seen the hills of the Holy Land. Reading about Mary’s surrender to God’s plan for her life becomes all the more real after you’ve stood at her home in Nazareth. But it’s not just the place that enlivens one’s understanding of the Bible; it’s the culture as well.      

Throughout high school and college, learning about the “ANE culture,” i.e. the culture of the Ancient Near East, was part of my curriculum. This helped inform my understanding of Scripture by helping me read it in a fuller context. What I didn’t realize until recently, though, is that there are strains of that ancient culture that exist in modern Middle Eastern culture as well. And through my relationship with my fiancé and the resulting cultural exposure, I am gaining a deeper glimpse into the goodness of God in more ways than one.

If you’ve grown up in church or been to a Christian wedding, you’re likely familiar with the fact that marriage was designed by God to be a picture of the relationship that would exist between Jesus and the Church, i.e. the people He purchased out of bondage through His sacrifice of His own perfect life. You might also be familiar with the passages of Scripture where Jesus is referred to or refers to Himself as the bridegroom (see Matthew 9, Mark 2, Luke 5, and John 3). I was well acquainted with all of those as well, but there’s another familiar passage that I had never connected to Jesus’ identity as our bridegroom—until recently.

In John 14, Jesus is speaking with His disciples, those who were arguably the human beings who had the closest relationship to Him during His time on earth. He is nearing His crucifixion and is spending concentrated time at their last meal together speaking with, praying for, and preparing them for the coming dark days. In the midst of this weighty time, Jesus says, “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” (John 14:1-3, ESV).

At first glance this does not seem to be a passage about the picture of marriage. From a twenty-first-century American viewpoint, it seems like a straightforward passage about heaven—that Jesus is going to heaven and that eventually we will be there with Him. But now I think there is so much more to this passage than what is initially apparent to our modern American eyes.

You see, my fiancé and I are currently separated by about 6,000 miles, and as it stands right now we will be until days before our wedding. A few months ago, he left to return to his home country, having completed what he came to my home country to do, and is working and making things ready for our future together. In his home culture, unless young men move away from their hometown for school or a job, they typically live with their families until they get married, and once they become engaged they look for a dwelling of their own and begin intentionally preparing it for their bride-to-be. Such is the case with my fiancé.

Sometimes he even uses the phrase “preparing our home” when he speaks, and it was after a few times of hearing this that it hit me how similar it sounded to Jesus’ words in John 14. 
And that’s when I realized the depth of what Jesus was saying to His disciples. In speaking of preparing a place for them, He was using imagery that would have been thoroughly familiar in their culture; He was alluding to Himself as the Bridegroom, preparing an eternal home for His Bride. He was getting ready to complete what He had come to our home to do, and He would then return to His home to make things ready for our future with Him.

The disciples weren’t too happy about the idea, as we can see by Jesus’ explaining to them why He had to leave. The separation was bound to be difficult since they had to adjust to no longer having their Friend and Savior physically with them. In the same way, the separation is difficult for us today. Even though we have the Holy Spirit within us, I’d wager to say we have all had thoughts something akin to, “If only I could just see Him or hear His voice or feel His touch.”

Likewise, the separation my fiancé and I are experiencing is not easy. I know I am going to be with him soon, but it’s still hard not to be physically present with each other.  But as we’ve been talking every day, I hear updates about the preparations my groom is making in our home, and I am constantly reminded of the preparations my Groom is making for me in my heavenly home. And just as I am waiting with confident expectation for the time when my fiancé and I will be together again, I am reminded to wait in the same confident expectation for the time when my Eternal Groom will bring me to be with Him forever.

I don’t know exactly what it looks like for Jesus to be preparing our future home for us, but if the love and care and intentionality I’ve experienced from my earthly bridegroom is even just a small taste of it, I know it’s going to be beyond our wildest dreams.

PC: Jane Morris. Used with permission.

Monday, April 13, 2020

Life after Easter

Have you ever thought about what the day after Easter was like for the disciples? Scripture doesn’t tell us, but we can use some informed imagination to surmise. To say the Sunday after Jesus’ crucifixion was a full day would be an understatement. It started early in the morning with a few women discovering an empty tomb and being told by an angel that Jesus was alive (Matthew 28:1-6; Mark 16:1-6; Luke 24:1-7). The women quickly told the disciples, but not quite believing them, Peter and John ran to the tomb to see for themselves, and sure enough, it was empty (Mark 16:11; Luke 24:11-12; John 20:3-10). Then Jesus met Mary in the garden, and she saw Him with her own eyes (John 20:11-17). Later in the day two others were met by Jesus as they were walking along the road, and once they realized who they were talking to and he had left them, they hurried back to Jerusalem to tell the disciples (Luke 24:13-34). In the evening, Jesus came to where the disciples were huddled together and told them to be ready—more things were going to happen (Luke 24:36-48). Now that’s a day.

If you’ve ever lived through a major event, negatively traumatic or positively momentous, you’ve likely experienced that it wasn’t until after some time had passed, perhaps until the next day after a night’s sleep, that the significance of the event began to sink in. Especially in the case of the disciples, who had gone through arguably the most traumatic day of their lives on Friday, likely their most depressing day on Saturday, and then probably their most exhilarating day on Sunday, the day after Easter would have found them experiencing a great deal of emotional whiplash.

I can only imagine their thoughts and feelings as it began to sink in that Jesus was alive. Everything they had hoped, that then for a while had seemed in vain (Luke 24:21), now would have come roaring back with all the force of the supernatural resurrecting power of God. Add onto that the self-realization that they had been completely obtuse when it came to discerning what Jesus had told them about his death and resurrection (John 20:9), and they surely felt a powerful comingling of elation and embarrassment. But as they recovered from the reeling about-face that they had just taken, the reality of Jesus’ resurrection and what that consequently meant for their own lives must have begun to sink deeply into their beings. If Friday’s cry was “Why?”, Saturday’s rumbling was “What now?”, and Sunday’s refrain was “He is risen!” then Monday’s rumination was a hopeful “So now what now?”
  
In the days that followed, more would be revealed. Jesus would meet with the disciples again to remove Thomas’s doubts (John 20:24-29); He would commission them to “go into all the world” (Mark 16:15); they would witness Him ascend into heaven (Acts 1:6-11); and they would receive the indwelling gift of the Holy Spirit (Acts 2:1-3). But that first Monday, none of that had happened yet. They were left to sit and ponder what they had just witnessed, with a new understanding of Scripture that Jesus had imparted to them.

Now, 2000 years later, we have just finished a day of rejoicing that Jesus rose from the dead, displaying victory over sin and death. We have the benefit of knowing Sunday was coming and knowing what happened next, but I’d like to challenge us to spend a moment in the disciples’ shoes and really ponder, with fresh attentiveness to Scripture, the thrilling weight of what Sunday meant—and continues to mean.

For just a few moments, marvel at the perfect plan of God and at the intentional revelation of it to the world throughout all of human history, from the first promise of the Savior to Adam and Eve (Genesis 3:15) to the angels’ proclamation to the shepherds near Bethlehem (Luke 2:8-14). Then revel in the fact that the realization of this God-written, true story from past to present brings with it the fact that the story extends from present to future. Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection was not the end of the story; it was the great turning point of human history, and God is continuing to write His story and reveal Himself to us through His Word and His Spirit as He brings all things toward the time of completion.

So today, the day after Easter, as we have come through the grief, come through the silence, and come through the rejoicing, let us settle into reflection that leads to action—reflection on the overarching narrative of God’s universe that we are privileged to be a part of, reflection on the truth that Jesus is ALIVE right at this very moment, reflection on the implications of this truth for our lives, and action to live accordingly.

How should we live in light of the resurrection? I could answer that question, but I’d rather leave it open for you to wrestle with yourself. To help you get started though, here are just a few areas to think about. How does Jesus’ resurrection affect your relationship with God? How does it affect your relationship with other people? How does it affect your communication with God? What does it mean for fear? For grief? For perseverance?  For confidence? For boldness? For compassion? For joy? As you think on these things, feel free to leave a comment below regarding your ruminations, whether they are fresh realizations or helpful reminders.

Jesus is risen. He is not a person in the past tense. He is presently living and calling you to live as well for His glory. I pray you will step into that life and really internalize all of the implications of Jesus’ resurrection, because as it turns out, life after Easter is the best life of all.

To read the Arabic translation of this post, click here.


لقراءة الترجمة العربية لهذا المنشور إضغط هنا.


PC: Anneliese Billings. Used with permission.