Refuge

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Day Seventeen

For most of us, “hide and seek” is a child’s game, one we tend to leave on the playground when we get older. But in Italy, at least for a few years, it was a very serious endeavor indeed. Christened the “Hide and Seek World Championship,” it featured contestants who gathered from around the world gathered in different villages in Italy each summer from 2010 to 2017 to prove their mettle in the rough-and-tumble world of the game Italians call “nascondino.”

The founders of the event talked about the opportunity it presented for adults to relive their childhood fun, and pointed out that it was, in fact, the most popular game in the world. As such, didn’t it deserve its very own world championship? They also added a more historical and philosophical excuse for the event, saying:

“Hide-and-seek has been around much longer than sports like football and basketball. Hiding is a part of every human being and forms a necessity to survive.”—Giorgio Moratti

That’s a pretty insightful remark in an interview about a children’s game. We are masters of hiding…hiding from others, from ourselves, and even from God. During Lent we focus upon all the ways we hide, and we allow God the freedom to search our souls and reveal the hidden places of brokenness that need to be brought to the cross. And one thing we discover is that we’re really good at hiding…perhaps it’s true after all that it’s part of every human being, a skill we’ve been honing for a long, long time.

Hiding is primarily a fear reaction, but it shouldn’t always be thought of in a negative light. Hiding is not always a bad thing. Sometimes we need to hide. Sometimes we need to take refuge, because sometimes we find ourselves in places and times of danger. It’s true in a literal sense, and it’s also true in a spiritual sense. In those times when we identify with the writer of Psalm 69 that “the waters have come up to my neck” (v.1), when we find our strength is gone and our resolve is weak…we need to step back for a bit and take some much-needed refuge. At those moments, the problem isn’t the hiding—the problem manifests in where we often choose to hide.

When we find ourselves in need of refuge, we have a number of choices at our disposal, and it’s fair to say that many (if not most) of them are not healthy. We can hide ourselves in our work, in our busyness, in our habits, or in a blanket of denial and false positivity that can cause a toxic backlog in our souls when it finally comes out. We can even hide ourselves in unhealthy ways behind things that are in and of themselves actually good—we can use family, friends, even church to avoid the need in our souls for rest and refuge. Hiding isn’t always wrong, but we need to examine what or who it is we run to when those needs arise.

The invitation in Scripture is to find our refuge in God. It is an image found all through the Bible:

“Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge.”—Psalm 16:1

“His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is pure.
He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him.”—2 Samuel 22:31

“The Lord is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble;
he knows those who take refuge in him.”—Nahum 1:7

The language of hiddenness is found throughout the words of Scripture. In the New Testament, those who have put their faith in Jesus are said to have their life now “hidden with Christ in God.” (Col. 3:3) It is an image of safety and security, of protection and care. It is an image of the very character of God.

There’s a story told about a wealthy businessman who asked two artists to illustrate peace, to depict a peaceful scene on canvas. The first artist painted a beautiful landscape of the countryside on awarm spring day. A cloudless sky, a picturesque farm house, soft sunlight on rolling hills, animals grazing in the field…everyone who looked upon the painting agreed: it was a perfect depiction of peace.

The second artist painted a majestic, rugged cliff. Gnarled trees, twisted by years of violent winds, jutted from the craggy mountainside. Dark and threatening clouds hung low and fierce, while jagged streaks of lightning slashed across the angry sky. The painting was a picture of violence, chaos, and rage.

The businessman was perplexed. But as he continued to look at this unsettling painting, he noticed something. There, in one of the crevices of the rocky mountain, tucked back just out of reach of the wind and rain-- was a nest with two tiny birds. Undisturbed by the raging storm, the little birds looked peaceful, calm, and cozy as they waited for the turbulence to pass.

We are living in chaotic, turbulent days. Storm clouds assail us from so many directions, and at times our need for refuge is great. That is not something to be ashamed of. Even Jesus needed time away from the chaos of his public ministry (though at times it eluded him). If the witness of Scripture is true, and it is, God delights in being our hiding place and our place of refuge.. He invites us to join our voices with the psalmist:

“Those who live in the shelter of the Most High
Will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord:
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety;
He is my God, and I trust him.
For he will rescue you from every trap
And protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with his feathers.
He will shelter you with his wings.
His faithful promises are your armor and protection.”—Psalm 91:1-4 (NLT)

Lent is a perfect time to remember that God is our refuge and hiding place. As we lean more fully into our need for God and the truth of his promises, may this image bring us comfort and peace whatever storms we are facing.

You are my refuge,
You are my shelter,
You are my hiding place, forever.
I will run to You, I will rest secure,
In the presence of my Saviour.

You can read the rest of the lyrics here.

Questions for Reflection

1) Are there things to run to in your life for shelter and refuge that are not healthy? Why do they hold that attraction? How can you bring them to God in prayer?

2) How has God revealed himself to you as a refuge and hiding place? Offer to him gratitude and praise for his protective grace.

3) Read the whole of Psalm 91 slowly and prayerfully. How can you turn this psalm into a prayer you can offer to God?

4) What storms are you facing in your life now where you can see your need for God’s protective hand? What intentional steps do you need to make to spend time in the presence of Jesus, allowing the words of “Refuge” to be true for you?

You are my refuge
You are my shelter
You are my hiding place forever
I will run to You
I will rest secure In the presence of my Saviour

5) Read and reflect on these verses. Let them lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”—Psalm 18:2 (ESV)

Hymn of the Saviour

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Third Sunday

One of the most frustrating things to deal with in life is an incomplete story. It’s only human nature to want resolution, to see the tale brought to its conclusion so that the “open loops” in the narrative no longer take up emotional space in our lives.

The folks behind blockbuster movies and television shows understand this need well. A well-placed cliffhanger in a popular franchise ensures that folks will return to see how it plays out. Will the heroes emerge victorious? (most likely yes) Will the villains get their comeuppance? (it’s almost assured) Will the audiences be happy? (some will, some won’t) Will the studios make enough money to keep churning out more for years to come? (you can be sure of that)

This idea of an incomplete story figures into our Lenten journey as we shift from Saturday to Sunday. For six days of the week we are called to focus our attention on the passion of Jesus: his betrayal, arrest, torture, and death. We contemplate the cross and its meaning, along with our call to repentance and a deeper yielding of our lives to Christ. It is a needed time of reflection, but the tension of the unfinished story can rest heavy on our souls.

As we enter the “mini-Easters” of these Sundays during Lent, we are invited to remember the rest of what happened after Jesus died. We turn the page from the cross to the empty tomb and find the much-needed reminder that the story didn’t end on Calvary—it continued (and continues) on in the truth of a risen Savior who conquered the grave as a definitive victory over the one who tempted him in the wilderness. We may hold back a bit on a full-blown celebration of the resurrection until Easter, but we let the reality of it once again refresh our souls with the knowledge that sin and death did not have the last word.

There are powerful worship songs available that do a wonderful work of telling the entirety of the gospel story, from Jesus’ birth (and sometimes before) all the way through to Easter (and sometimes beyond). When we soak in the fullness of their storytelling, we are inhabiting the completeness of God’s work and the fullness of his promises. “Hymn of the Saviour” is one of these worship songs, a stirring, poetic retelling of all that has happened for our salvation. Here are some others that have that same “complete story” theme at work in their lyrics, and they are a wonderful complement to each “mini-Easter.” (And if you know of another hymn/worship song that does a good job of telling the whole gospel story, please post it in the comments below—thanks!)

"Glorious Day (Living He Loved Me)” by Casting Crowns

“I Cannot Tell” by Emu Music

“What a Beautiful Name” by Hillsong

“Magnificent, Marvelous, Matchless Love” by Matt Boswell and Matt Papa

For the song we raise, the works of our hands
Are in service of the King
When a thousand tongues cry, ’Glory to God’
Forever his praise we’ll sing

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

Questions for Reflection

1) As you make your way on this Lenten journey, are you finding ways to make Sundays different? What could you do, even today, to spend some intentional time in “the rest of the story?”

2) Can you think of hymns or songs that have been particularly meaningful for you in focusing on the resurrection of Jesus? What was particularly striking to you about those songs?

3) Even as we remember that the story of Jesus didn’t end at the cross, we also do well to remember that it didn’t end at the empty tomb either. In what ways does anticipating the return of Jesus and the culmination of the Kingdom story impact our “mini-Easters?”

4) The story we’re meditating on is also our story. What Jesus did, he did for you, and you are part of the story he’s weaving in the world right now. And it’s important to remember that our sins, failures, and troubles in this life are not the final word of our story, neither will death mark the end. As “Hymn of the Saviour” reminds us:

At the end of the ages, the world passed away
I will gaze on my Saviour’s face
When my heart is perfected, and free from my sin
I will rest in your glorious grace

Spend some time in prayer giving thanks to God for the ways he is at work crafting your story, and for the promises of a final chapter of intimacy with him that will never end.

5) Read and reflect on these verses. Let them lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”—2 Corinthians 5:14-15 (NIV)

If Ye Love Me

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Day Sixteen

In the story of Jesus’ temptation in the desert, there are characters who are sometimes overlooked. Obviously the whole event centers on the interaction between Jesus and the tempter, but when the drama of their clash is concluded, we find in Mark’s and Matthew’s accounts an interesting detail. Matthew records it in verse 11 of chapter 4:

“Then the devil left him, and angels came and attended him.”—Matthew 4:11 (NIV)

A handful of words that can easily be missed—”angels came and attended him”—but when we focus on them, these words provide an image of refreshing and restoration that are worth noting. Having emerged from his wilderness journey, Jesus finds comfort in the presence of angels sent to take care of his needs.

As he begins his public ministry, Jesus is not alone in the wilderness.

A similar occurrence is found at the other end of the gospel story, as Jesus finds himself praying to God the Father in the hours before his arrest and crucifixion. Luke tells us about it in chapter 22 of his gospel:

“Jesus went out as usual to the Mount of Olives, and his disciples followed him. On reaching the place, he said to them, ‘Pray that you will not fall into temptation.’ He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, ‘Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.’ An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him.”—Luke 22:39-43 (NIV)

As he has before, God sends to Jesus a divine messenger to attend to his needs. It is Christ’s darkest hour, one so fraught with despair that Luke (ever the physician) mentions in the next verse how his sweat was “like drops of blood falling to the ground” (Luke 22:44, NIV). Yet even in this darkness, there is comfort to be found in angelic presence.

As his public ministry draws to a close, once again Jesus is not alone.

As we follow Jesus on this road to Jerusalem and beyond, there are moments of temptation, and there are also moments of despair. In those times, we need to remember the promise of Christ that even in our wilderness we are not alone. We, too, have been given a gift of divine presence in the person of the Holy Spirit. But unlike the angels Jesus encounters, the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives is not limited to specific circumstances. It is a fixed reality for those who love and trust in Jesus. That is the promise Jesus shared with his disciples the night before he was killed:

“If you love me, keep my commands. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you.”—John 14:15-17

The Spirit ministers to us in many ways: he guides, he strengthens, he intercedes, he advocates, to name a few. The King James translation captures his role in a rich and meaningful way in its rendering of verse 16:

“And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter, that he may abide with you forever…”—John 14:16 (KJV)

The Holy Spirit is our comfort. As the angels attended to Jesus, the Spirit attends to us. What a glorious and amazing gift! And it’s important to remember that it’s a gift only made possible because of Christ’s death, resurrection, and ascension. He made this clear to his disciples:

“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 (NIV)

As we journey to the cross, we become more and more aware of our brokenness and our need for Jesus, but we are not left to wander by ourselves in the wilderness of despair. Thank God for the gift we’ve received in the strengthening, comforting presence of the Spirit.

If ye love me,
keep my commandments,
and I will pray the Father,
and he shall give you another comforter,
that he may 'bide with you forever,
e'en the spirit of truth.

You can read more about this beautiful choral piece here.

Questions for Reflection

1) “Comforter…Advocate…Helper…Guide…” What other words come to your mind when you consider the work of the Holy Spirit in your life? Is there one that has been particularly meaningful for you?

2) Jesus refers to the Holy Spirit as the “Spirit of truth” in John 14:17. In what ways has the Holy Spirit revealed truth to you? In what ways is he still revealing truth to you?

3) The Holy Spirit is also referred to as the “Spirit of Christ” (1 Peter 1:11, Galatians 4:6). What does it mean for us as followers of Jesus to know that we have his very life within us? Spend some time meditating on this astounding truth, and offer to God your desire to know Jesus better by yielding more to his Spirit.

4) Jesus prefaces his promise of the Spirit by saying “If you love me, keep my commands.” (John 14:15) How do you understand the relationship between obedience to Christ and fellowship with Christ? Is there any imbalance in your life that might lead to an unhealthy understanding of that relationship? How might you offer that to God in prayer?

5) Read and reflect on this verse. Let it lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you.”—Romans 8:11 (ESV)

Nearer My God To Thee

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Day Fifteen

[Special thanks to Amy Nemecek for today’s post]

“But for me it is good to be near God;
I have made the Lord God my refuge,
that I may tell of all your works.”—Psalm 73:28 (ESV)

Just as athletes run drills and musicians practice scales to reinforce and strengthen fundamental muscle patterns, our souls need the repetition of movements and patterns of the Holy Spirit. Praying. Reading and meditating on God’s Word. Humbling ourselves in true repentance.

The essential movement in each of these practices is that of drawing near to God.

Praying with and meditating on the hymn “Nearer, My God, to Thee” is appropriate during Lent as we journey with Jesus to the cross and there find that we can be nearer to God than we have ever been. The song’s lyrics express a hard truth: suffering is an opportunity for our hearts to be drawn closer to God.

I can’t hear this hymn without thinking of my dad. A precious childhood memory is the time he sat down at our piano to prove to me that he could play. But he could only recall one song: “Nearer, My God, to Thee.” His thick fingers, which were more tuned to the feel of wrenches and the sound of engines, were soft on the keys as they automatically found melody and chords that carried his thoughts elsewhere.

What began as a merry jest became a window into my father’s soul. By this time in life he had borne crosses of suffering and loss, and he would go on to bear many more before he himself was laid to rest. That he remembered how to play this one song says much. Even in the hard times—especially in the hard times—he wanted to be nearer to God. The hymn was the prayer of his heart, and I got to witness it before the curtain came down and his good-natured teasing resumed.

That image of my dad at the piano has carried with me through my own griefs. His unspoken lesson has been a reminder to listen to my own soul’s longing for God in midst of loss and sadness. That practice makes the pain bearable—even useful.

I don’t desire suffering. It hurts. It leaves me broken, sad, scarred. And yet, I can’t deny that it draws me nearer to Jesus. Suffering joins me with him in a way that I don’t experience when life is easy and cares are few. It is indeed good to be near to him, even if that nearness comes through pain. The prophet Isaiah says, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (53:4). As we draw near to Christ in our brokenness, his presence becomes our refuge and we are moved to tell others so that they too may recognize and exercise their soul’s desire for closeness with him.

The continued practice of drawing near moves us into the art of praise.

Whether we are wandering or settled, weeping or rejoicing, in deepest darkness or brightest praise, may the muscle memory of our souls draw us ever nearer to God.

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
yet in my dreams I'd be
nearer, my God, to thee;
nearer, my God, to thee, nearer to thee

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

Questions for Reflection

1) Think of a time in your life when you experienced loss or suffering — perhaps you’re in such a season right now. In what ways has God used (or is he using) that experience to stir up your soul’s longing to be nearer to him?

2) Here is an additional verse from this hymn:

Then with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee

Read the verse slowly and prayerfully. The reference to raising Bethel comes from Genesis 28, where Jacob takes the stone he used as a pillow and raises it as an altar to remember his encounter with God in his dream. The hymn writer suggests that our “stony griefs” can become altars of remembrance that testify to God’s presence. How might we practice this in our own lives?

3) In Psalm 63, David expresses his soul’s deep longing for God. Meditate on these lines from the psalm and carry them with you throughout the day to express your own soul’s longing to be nearer to God:

O God, you are my God;
earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.

Abba, let this hymn be my prayer in this Lenten season as I journey with Jesus to the cross. Whether I’m in a season of relative ease or experiencing deep trials, let my soul’s muscle memory keep my heart in tune with my deepest longing: I want to be nearer to you. Amen.

Out of the Depths

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Day Fourteen

Waiting is hard.

We hate to wait, especially in our smartphone-at-the-ready, information-at-your-fingertips, drive-thru culture. Various studies have been done trying to figure out how much time the average person spends waiting over a lifetime in lines, on hold, and at stop lights, and the numbers range anywhere from 6 months to to 10 years depending on what country and city you live in. Even those who live on the 6-month end of the spectrum would probably report that it feels like 10 years. Because waiting is hard.

But truth be told, there are other kinds of waiting that can really put that long line at the supermarket into perspective. Waiting to hear from the doctor for test results…waiting for a decision after a job interview…waiting for news that a loved one is safe…compared to these, many of our typical experiences of delay prove to be nothing.

And then there is the very unique experience known to those who believe the promises of God: waiting for those promises to be made manifest in your specific situation. When we are waiting for God, it can be the most difficult waiting of all.

Psalm 130 is another of the “songs of ascent,” which may have been sung by Jewish pilgrims making their way to the temple in Jerusalem for one of the feast days, like the Passover which Jesus was preparing for in his final days. Biblical scholars also put it in the category of “penitential psalms” due to the powerful way it expresses sorrow for sin. It seems that as the pilgrims made their way to Jerusalem, singing their praise and declarations of God’s character and promises, they would also engage in the same kind of self-examination we are called to undertake during Lent.

As the psalmist looks into their soul, what they see tempts them to despair:

“Out of the depths I call to you, Lord!
Lord, listen to my voice;
let your ears be attentive
to my cry for help.”—Psalm 130:1-2 (CSB)

The imagery of “the depths” calls to mind another psalm, one attributed to David:

“Save me, God,
for the water has risen to my neck.
I have sunk in deep mud, and there is no footing;
I have come into deep water,
and a flood sweeps over me.
I am weary from my crying;
my throat is parched.
My eyes fail, looking for my God.”—Psalm 69:1-3 (CSB)

To be in “the depths” is to be looking for God, but to not yet see him at work in the way we expect. Sometimes the reason we’re unable to see it that our sin still blinds us, but sometimes the reason for God’s seeming delay is a mystery. Whatever the cause, the waiting is not easy. The writer of Psalm 130 compares it to the image of a weary watchman who has been holding vigil for the long, dark night and eagerly awaits the first break of dawn that will signal the end of his duties. In fact, the psalmist doesn’t just say their waiting is similar—they actually say it is even more profound than that:

“I wait for the Lord; I wait
and put my hope in his word.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning—
more than watchmen for the morning.”—Psalm 130:5-6 (CSB)

As much as we may not want to acknowledge it, a relationship with God sometimes involves waiting like this. Some wait for an experience of redemption that echoes this psalm, others wait for a word of guidance, or for the lifting of their spirits. There are also so many who know the long darkness of waiting to see God at work in the life of a loved one, or to see reconciliation come to a broken relationship. And in these times of waiting, the temptation to despair is great.

It is interesting that in verse 7 the language of Psalm 130 shifts. No longer singing about their own particular needs, the psalmist’s words become a call to all of God’s people:

“Israel, put your hope in the Lord.
For there is faithful love with the Lord,
and with him is redemption in abundance.
And he will redeem Israel
from all its iniquities.”—Psalm 130:7-8 (CSB)

After making their own declaration of trust in verse 5, the psalmist now calls all of God’s children to hold tight to the promises of God. Even in the darkness of the night watch, even when those promises seem far off, do not give in to despair. The goodness of God is a certainty, the actions of God will prove faithful and true when seen in morning’s light.

These are good words for us during Lent. In these days of self-reflection and brutal honesty with ourselves, we might very well find ourselves in “the depths,” especially if we are facing situations in life where it seems that God is not moving in the ways we so desperately want to see. As we offer to God during Lent our sin and our stubborn self-will, the invitation comes to us to offer into his hands something else as well: our waiting.

The secret mysteries belong to You
We only know what You reveal
And all my questions that are unresolved
Don’t change the wisdom of Your will
In every trial and loss
My hope is in the cross
Where Your compassions never fail

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

Questions for Reflection

1) Are you in a season of waiting for God right now? What are you waiting for? How can you apply the words of Psalm 130 to your own situation?

2) Read and consider/discuss this quote about waiting for God from Betsy Childs Howard. Does it ring true for you? What about these words most stands out to you?

“Waiting exposes our idols and throws a wrench into our coping mechanisms. It brings us to the end of what we can control and forces us to cry out to God. God doesn't waste our waiting. He uses it to conform us to the image of his Son.” (from “Seasons of Waiting: Walking by Faith When Dreams Are Delayed”)

3) The writer of Psalm 130 declares in verse 5: “I wait for the Lord; I wait and put my hope in his word.” What is the relationship between hope and the word of God? How has God’s word spoken to you in seasons of waiting? Spend some time in prayer giving thanks to God for his words of comfort and hope.

4) The song for today includes these words:

The secret mysteries belong to You
We only know what You reveal
And all my questions that are unresolved
Don’t change the wisdom of Your will

These lyrics describe a trust that comes from accepting that we won’t always have answers to our questions or explanations for our waiting. Yet many of us still cling to a stubborn insistence that God “owes” us answers for the difficult situations we face. Has that been something you’ve struggled with in your journey of faith? How can you offer that to God and receive the freedom that comes from relinquishing that level of control?

5) Read and reflect on this verse. Let it lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.”—Isaiah 40:31 (ESV)

Amazing Grace

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Day Thirteen

Here is a devotional thought for today:

Some days you just need to listen to “Amazing Grace.”

That’s it. Some days on the journey you just need to stop, breathe deep, and listen to a hymn that says it better than just about anyone ever has. Take a moment, close your eyes, and let it soak in. Today is one of those days. Today we leave Grand Rapids for a new adventure overseas, and the stress of moving has me leaning in especially hard to the words of this unforgettable song.

Below you’ll find a few different versions of the hymn (including one instrumental). Choose one, a couple, or listen to them all. They each represent a unique take on one of the most powerful hymns of all time. Listen and let it speak to your soul as you make your way to Jerusalem with Jesus.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed!

Read the rest of the lyrics here (scroll down to see).

Questions for Reflection

For today’s reflections, you’ll be asked to read four verses of “Amazing Grace,” one at a time, in a prayerful, receptive posture. Read each verse slowly and take in each word. Read each verse at least twice. Some may find it helpful to read the verse out loud. As you read, listen for a word or phrase that catches your attention. When you are finished reading, before you go to the next verse, spend some time sitting prayerfully with the word or phrase that you found yourself drawn to. Hold it before God and offer whatever prayer they inspire: gratefulness, repentance, concern, or simply heartfelt worship.

1.

Amazing grace! how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found,
Was blind, but now I see.

2.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed!

3.

The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures.

4.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we first begun.

5. Read and reflect on these verses. Let them lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“But God, who is rich in mercy, because of his great love that he had for us, made us alive with Christ even though we were dead in trespasses. You are saved by grace!”—Ephesians 2:4-5 (ESV)

Only His Wounds

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Day Twelve

There are many things about ourselves we are called to consider during the season of Lent: our sin and need for repentance, our mortality, our need to embrace self-denial as we lay down our lives…all of them opportunities for self-reflection that are fruitful and much-needed. We spend a good deal of time during these 40 days looking inward to the state of our soul.

But we are also called to look outward during Lent as we consider the sacrifice of Jesus, a practice which asks us to turn our gaze towards the brutal reality of what happened at the cross. We might embrace this call a bit more reluctantly, hesitant to confront the depth of the pain Christ suffered on our behalf. But it is an inescapable piece of our Lenten path, one that can’t be ignored without missing the heart of what this season is really all about.

Meditating on the wounds of Christ is an integral part of Lent, because the wounds of Christ are an inseparable part of our salvation.

It’s important to note that when Thomas is wrestling with doubt after the resurrection, it is the wounds of Jesus which bring him to the place of recognition and worship. The body of Jesus still bears the marks of his horrific death. As one of the characters in the Sensible Shoes book series reflects in her journal:

“…the testimony of Easter is that suffering isn’t erased from Jesus’ resurrected body. His wounds have been made glorious. They point to what he has done and how the Father has been glorified in the suffering, death, and resurrection of the Son. The wounds tell the story of our salvation and God’s victory over the forces of evil, of death. Life wins.” (An Extra Mile p. 274).

The wounds of Christ tell the story of our salvation. As difficult as it might be to spend time reflecting on them, it’s a necessary part of understanding the depth of what God has done for us. And understanding the depth of what God has done for us enables us to understand more deeply the breadth of his love for us.

In the wounds of Jesus we find the fulfillment of one of the most moving prophecies in all of scripture:

“But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”—Isaiah 53:5 (NIV)

Wounds that heal. That’s what we find in the nail-scarred hands and the sword-pierced side of Jesus. Because of those wounds, we can be made whole. Because of those wounds, all the things that rise to the surface in our time of self-reflection can be met head-on by the transforming love of God. There has been nothing else, there is nothing else, and there never will be anything else that can accomplish that for us. For this reason, we do well to meditate on those wounds as we make our way through this Lenten season. As Pope Francis said in a Lenten homily a few years ago:

“Enter into His wounds and contemplate the love in His heart for you, and you, and you, and me, for everyone.”—Pope Francis, 3/2/2018

Only His wounds can heal the broken
Only His wounds can save us from sin
Only His wounds give faith to the faithless
Only His wounds can restore us again

Read the rest of the lyrics here (scroll down to see).

Questions for Reflection

1) Do you sense any resistance in yourself to the idea of contemplating the wounds of Jesus? If so, what might be behind that resistance, and how might you offer it to God in prayer?

2) The 12th century monk Bernard of Clairvaux preached these words in a sermon around 1130 A.D.:

“Where can the weak find a place of firm security and peace, except in the wounds of the Savior? Indeed, the more secure is my place there, the more he can do to help me.”

What do you think he meant by “The more secure is my place there, the more he can do to help me?” What does it mean to be “secure” in the wounds of Christ? Spend some time in prayer asking God to reveal that security to you in a new way.

3) What does the phrase “his wounds have been made glorious” inspire in you? What might that communicate to us about our own woundedness?

4) Michael Card’s song says the wounds of Christ “heal the broken,” “save us from sin,” give faith to the faithless,” and “restore us.” Which of these seems to resonate more deeply with your soul during this time of your life?

5) Read and reflect on this verse. Let it lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:

“He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.”—1 Peter 2:24 (ESV)