The Glorious Easter Exchange

The Glorious Easter Exchange

John Flavel:

Lord, the condemnation was yours,
that the justification might be mine.

The agony was yours,
that the victory might be mine.

The pain was yours,
and the ease mine.

The stripes were yours,
and the healing balm issuing from them mine.

The vinegar and gall were yours,
that the honey and sweet might be mine.

The curse was yours,
that the blessing might be mine.

The crown of thorns was yours,
that the crown of glory might be mine.

The death was yours,
the life purchased by it mine.

You paid the price
that I might enjoy the inheritance.

John Flavel (1671), from his sermon, The Solemn Consecration of the Mediator, in The Fountain of Life Opened Up: A Display of Christ in His Essential and Mediatorial Glory.

It's Saturday . . . but Sunday's Coming!

It’s Saturday . . . but Sunday’s Coming!

It’s Saturday, the day before Easter. On the Christian calendar, we often forget this day. Yesterday was Good Friday. Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.

On Friday, Jesus was crucified; died for our sins. His followers mourned.

On Sunday, Jesus resurrected; He arose from the dead! His followers celebrated.

But on Saturday, Jesus lay in the tomb; earth groaned. His followers waited, confused.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . .

Holy Saturday

On the church calendar, Saturday is known as “Holy Saturday.” While there are services on Friday and on Sunday, this day is traditionally a day of waiting.

Holy Saturday is a lot like life this side of heaven. We wait. Our final resurrection is sure. Our victory is certain. But this side of heaven, we face death daily.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . .

The Message of Holy Saturday

The message of Holy Saturday is, “Get ready. Something is about to happen. But it hasn’t happened yet.”

Holy Saturday lasts so long. It feels like Sunday will never arrive. The twenty-four hours feel like seventy-four years.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . .

Death still surrounds us. Sin still tempts us. Sickness still wounds us. Suffering still pervades us. Evil still invade us. Satan still taunts us.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . .

Easter Is Coming Our Direction

In Narnia, under the curse of the White Witch, it was always Winter but never Christmas.

For Christians, we live in the sure hope that Spring is always just around the corner; just around the river bend.

Easter has already arrived, and it’s coming in our direction.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . .

While we forever remember the crucifixion, thank God we’re moving toward Easter. It’s coming in our direction, closer all the time.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . . and it’s not far away.

All we have to do is hold on for a little while and Sunday will soon be here.

Saturday may seem like a long time, but that’s only as we count time.

Hold on. Keep believing. Never give up.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming . . . soon.

Hold on for a little while longer.

The Final Victory

Death will not have the last word.

The tomb will empty.

We will celebrate the resurrection.

It’s Saturday, but Sunday’s coming!

Easter: Holiday or Holy Day?

Easter: Holiday or Holy Day?

Growing up, Easter was about coloring eggs, chocolate bunny rabbits, marshmallow eggs, and toys from my Aunt. For much of Western culture, that’s still the “essence of Easter.”

Easter Meaning

As holidays go, for Americans and most American Christians, Easter is simply second-rate.

For me, now as a believer, Easter has more meaning than even Christmas.

Easter is not a holiday. It is a Holy Day.

Journeying the Ancient Paths

Evangelicals would do well to engage more of the historical traditions around the “Easter Holy Day Season.”

Forty days of focused spiritual disciplines . . .

Palm Sunday . . .

Passion week . . .

Maundy (or Holy) Thursday solemnly commemorating the institution of the Lord’s Supper.

Good Friday and somber remembrance . . .

Holy Saturday and the day of waiting . . .

Easter Sunday and the day of celebration . . .

Hope.

Joy.

New life.

Eternal Spring.

The Chronicles

In The Chronicles of Narnia, the White Witch cast her spell and “it was always Winter but never Christmas.”

In The Chronicles of Christ, because of Easter, we live in anticipation of the day when “it is always Spring and forever Easter.”

Nameless Saturday

Nameless Saturday

We have names for days leading up to Easter from Wednesday to Friday.

Evangelicals don’t have a name for Saturday.

The in-between day.

The day of waiting.

The day of faith-testing.

Never Ending Saturday

Imagine it, for the first time all over again.

Your Saviour has been brutally crucified. Your hopes dashed. Your heart sick.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Time ticks away but time does not heal all wounds.

Friday ends.

Saturday comes. Saturday seems to never end.

Perhaps we could call it Never Ending Saturday.

Or at least it feels like it.

Saturday Living

Life on planet earth is Saturday living.

The day in-between.

The day we wait.

The day before we see the reality of our faith.

What's So Good about Good Friday?

What’s So Good about Good Friday?

Good Friday. The day Christians memorialize death. God’s death. Christ’s crucifixion.

What’s so good about that?

In Evangelical Protestant circles, Good Friday is rarely seen as “good.” In fact, it’s often ignored. No services. Nothing.

I can recall establishing the first ever Good Friday service in my first year as Sr. Pastor. The church had a continuous history of over 200 years. Not only did we start a Good Friday service, we ended it in somber silence.

People were shocked!

“What? Where’s the Resurrection!”

My response . . .

“Wait.”

Like the Apostles had to wait.

As Mary the mother of Jesus waited.

As Jesus waited.

What’s so good about Good Friday. The obvious answer is that without Christ’s death we would have no salvation.

The less obvious but equally biblical answer is Good Friday reminds us to wait in humble, sad, somber, convicted silence. It reminds us just how horrible sin is.

Quiet.

Wait.

In a Coffin in Egypt

In a Coffin in Egypt

Consider the contrast between the first five and the last five words of Genesis. “In the beginning God created” (Genesis 1:1a). “In a coffin in Egypt” (Genesis 50:26b). Life east of Eden and this side of Heaven is guaranteed to be replete with suffering.

Though we intuitively and experientially recognize this reality, for some reason we shy away from it theologically. Theologians have developed well thought through models of Creation (anthropology), Fall (hamartiology), and Redemption (soteriology). Notice what’s missing? Sufferology—a biblical theology of suffering.

Of course, a brief e-news snippet is not the place to present a fully developed theology of suffering. But perhaps it could be the place today to whet our appetite, to encourage each of us as biblical counselors and soul physicians to delve more deeply into a practical theology of suffering.

In the early 60s, British Christian psychiatrist, Frank Lake explained that “clinical pastoral care has, as its introduction, the task of listening to a story of human conflict and need. To the extent that our listening uncovers a situation which borders the abyss or lies broken within it, we are nearer to the place where the Cross of Chris is the only adequate interpretive concept” (Clinical Theology, pp. 18-19).

Is any place closer to the abyss than a coffin in Egypt? God creatively uses suffering, separation, dying, and death to form us into His image. Walter Wangerin, in his healing book, Mourning Into Dancing, expresses more insight into death than any mortician. “Death doesn’t wait till the ends of our lives to meet us and to make an end. Instead, we die a hundred times before we die; and all the little endings on the way are like a slowly growing echo of the final Bang! before that bang takes place” (p. 26).

So why would our Good Shepherd shepherd us with suffering and sorrow? What are these “guides” supposed to teach us? Throughout Mourning Into Dancing, Wangerin explains that suffering and death are meant to teach us our need again. All the mini-casket experiences of life are God-sent invitations to depend upon the One who is the Resurrection and the Life.

The Apostle Paul says its best. “We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead (2 Corinthians 1:8-9). Life’s coffins cause us to cling to Christ and to celebrate His empty tomb.