Give Us Clean Hands

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Monday of Holy Week

The excitement of Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem has subsided. The religious leaders are on alert, having been greatly concerned by the crowd’s fervor in welcoming Jesus to the city. The events that will lead to Friday have started to unfold.

You can almost imagine the disciples, aware of mounting tension and danger in the city, quietly hoping Jesus will keep to himself and not cause too much of a stir. That’s not what happens, not by a long shot, as all three Synoptic gospels go on to tell:

“On reaching Jerusalem, Jesus entered the temple courts and began driving out those who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts. And as he taught them, he said, ‘Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’

The chief priests and the teachers of the law heard this and began looking for a way to kill him, for they feared him, because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching.

When evening came, Jesus and his disciples went out of the city.”—Mark 11:15-19 (NIV)

The people coming to Jerusalem for the Passover need animals for the sacrifice, and out of that need it seems the merchants and money changers see an opportunity for profit, even here at the temple. It seems the laws of supply and demand have overshadowed the Law of God.

What’s worse is that their tables of exchange and sale are set up in the Court of the Gentiles, a large space set aside for worship that is the only place in the temple where non-Jews are allowed. The Gentile converts to Judaism would have found no place to worship or pray in all of the chaos.

Jesus is rightfully upset, and it shows. He throws the money changers out, blocks their way, and begins to teach the crowd, who stand amazed at what he says. And the religious leaders take note. They perceive a threat.

Jesus is a threat. That’s not a word we necessarily want to associate with Jesus, but it’s an accurate one. In Jerusalem that first Holy Week Jesus is a threat to entrenched systems of religious abuse and hypocrisy. And as the week plays out, he will show himself to be a threat to the entrenched powers of sin and death, which will tremble and fall in defeat as he fulfills God’s plan of salvation.

To anything that sets itself up against God, Jesus will always be a threat, especially when those things are found in the very places that should be set apart for worship. He still moves through temples, and he still overturns those practices and idols that do not belong there. The temples he cleanses today can be churches, but they are also the hearts of those who desire to follow him. Especially during Lent, we invite Jesus into our hearts and lives and give him permission to do what he did that day in the temple. We invite him to cleanse us of anything that is not of him. And like that day so long ago, his motivation is zeal. It is his fervent desire to see us free of those things that have become entrenched in our lives, the things that keep us back from being the people we were created to be.

As we find ourselves closer each day to the cross of Calvary, and as our Lenten journey draws to a close, let us not forget the call that set us on this path so many weeks ago: the call to self-examination, confession, and repentance. He stands at the entrance to the temple that is your life. Will you let him in?

We bow our hearts,
we bend our knees
Oh Spirit come and make us humble
We turn our eyes
from evil things
Oh Lord we cast down our idols

Read the rest of the lyrics here.


Questions for Reflection:

1) How do you respond to the idea that Jesus is a “threat” to the things in our lives that are not of God? What would it look like for you to accept him in that way, while always remembering his motivation is love?

2) Here is the text of an ancient prayer of confession. Offer it to God, substituting “I” for “we,” and watch for the movement of your soul as you pray. Is there any part of this prayer that signals something in your life that needs attention, maybe even needs to be overturned?

Merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed. We have not loved you with our whole heart and mind and strength; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. In your mercy, forgive what we have been, help us amend what we are, and direct what we shall be, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.

3) When you ponder the song lyrics, “Let us not lift our souls to another,” what is that “other” in your life? What desires, forces, habits, or entities can often replace God in your life as an object or worship?

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

“Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”—Matthew 9:13 (ESV)

Did You Feel The Mountains Tremble?

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Palm Sunday

In the many, many Palm Sunday sermons that will be preached today, there is a theme that will almost certainly be common. It will be represented by statements like this:

How quickly the excitement of the crowd will turn to anger. In a few short days, the cries of “Hosanna!” will be replaced by shouts of “Crucify him!”

Let’s set aside for a moment the very real probability that the two crowds on Palm Sunday are Good Friday are not the same. Even if there was a lot of overlap between them, I think we do Palm Sunday a disservice if we immediately move to accusations of fickleness and hypocrisy. During Lent we often talk about our tendency to jump too quickly from Good Friday to Easter, but before we deal with that temptation there is another one we face: to jump too quickly from Palm Sunday to Good Friday.

This is our last “mini-Easter” before the real thing. And as we’ve learned on our Lenten journey, these are days of celebration. We may not embrace the Easter imagery in all of its fullness, but on these Sundays we remind ourselves that what is taking place is something amazing, wonderful, and worthy of praise. We remind ourselves that the cross we are journeying towards is not the place where the story ends. On these days we let our rejoicing be loud and real.

In that respect, the crowd welcoming Jesus into the city had it right. They may not have understood the real reason the Messiah had come, but they certainly recognized that the Messiah was in their midst. Their shouts confirm this:

“The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting,

‘Hosanna!’

‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’

‘Blessed is the king of Israel!’”—John 12:12-13 (NIV)

These are purposeful words. The shouts of Hosanna literally mean, “Save!” The imagery of palm branches is often linked to Messianic victory, and Jesus is referred to as “King" (and is even linked to King David in Mark’s account), all of which point to the crowd’s clear understanding that something historical is taking place. The Messiah has come to Jerusalem. The promised deliverance is about to be made real in their midst. Even if they don’t see clearly how it will take place, they at least see it.

And they celebrate.

The coming days are not for the faint of heart. They weren’t 2,000 years ago. They aren’t now. They are filled with anger, grief, injustice, false accusations, torture, and death. And we do well to meditate on them before we proclaim the fullness of the empty tomb.

But as we enter into this week, we also do well to celebrate what God is doing. So let’s welcome Jesus into our midst anew. Let’s throw the doors open wide and let the music play. On this mini-Easter, let songs of hope and joy lift our spirits, even as we know what the coming days hold. Because what they ultimately hold is our deliverance. The darkness is trembling, sin and death are facing their defeat, and the injustices that have defined humanity’s existence since the garden are about to meet their match.

We can celebrate that today.

Open up the doors and let the music play
Let the streets resound with singing
Songs that bring Your hope
Songs that bring Your joy
Dancers who dance upon injustice

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

This video is about Did You Feel the Mountains TrembleVideo by Pastor Madeline - https://fumcluling.orgFirst United Methodist Church - Luling, TX Awesome bac...

Invitation to Celebration

For today’s reflection we will be meditating on only one central question: how will you celebrate today? What will you do today to rejoice at the coming of the Messiah? How will you shout “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” on this Palm Sunday?

Below are some passages of Scripture that you can sit with as you think about the invitation to “open up the doors and let the music play.”


“How beautiful upon the mountains
are the feet of the messenger who announces peace,
who brings good news,
who announces salvation,
who says to Zion, ‘Your God reigns.’
Listen! Your sentinels lift up their voices,
together they sing for joy;
for in plain sight they see
the return of the Lord to Zion.
Break forth together into singing,
you ruins of Jerusalem;
for the Lord has comforted his people,
he has redeemed Jerusalem.
The Lord has bared his holy arm
before the eyes of all the nations;
and all the ends of the earth shall see
the salvation of our God.”
—Isaiah 52:7-10 (NRSV)


“Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”—1 Peter 1:8-9 (ESV)


“When the Lord brought back his exiles to Jerusalem,
it was like a dream!
We were filled with laughter,
and we sang for joy.
And the other nations said,
’What amazing things the Lord has done for them.’
Yes, the Lord has done amazing things for us!
What joy!

Restore our fortunes, Lord,
as streams renew the desert.
Those who plant in tears
will harvest with shouts of joy.
They weep as they go to plant their seed,
but they sing as they return with the harvest.”
—Psalm 126 (NLT)


“These things I have spoken to you,
that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.”
—John 15:11 (ESV)

Eve's Lament (Genesis)

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Day Thirty-Four

Today’s song is not one I would choose to listen to devotionally.

It is not a worship song. It is not a happy song. But it is an important song, a powerful song.

Tomorrow we will begin Holy Week with Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It is called “triumphal” for a couple of different reasons: it’s triumphal in the eyes of the crowd, many of whom mistakenly think Jesus has arrived to reclaim Jerusalem from Roman oppression. But the real triumph of the moment is only seen in retrospect: we know why Jesus has come to the city. We know he is there to lay down his life for the sins of the world, and that is the real victory.

But in order for us to fully grasp that victory, it is important to first consider the depth of the defeat. What we watch unfold during Holy Week is an undoing of a curse that has existed since the very beginning of time. We tend to think of sin’s defeat in terms of our own experience of it, and that is certainly the heart of the gospel, but to understand the magnitude of what happens on the cross we should first remember the magnitude of what happened in the garden.

Some people don’t like stories or lyrics that put words into biblical characters’ mouths that don’t appear in the original texts, but today’s song offers us a deeply significant perspective that is worth the creative license. It’s the heart’s cry of the first woman following the fall, lamenting the choices that led to humanity’s separation from God. They are words that echo all of us who have given in to the temptation to live our lives outside the boundaries God has set:

Did He really say it? Why is He keeping you down?
Don’t you want to taste it? Freedom without Him around?
Don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to choose?
You want it, don’t you? Don’t you?

That voice speaks to all of us at one time or another. For some of us it can seem a constant presence. And yet we all know the dark side of the invitation: the freedom offered is never the freedom experienced. It has been that way since the beginning:

Shame the venom running through my veins
A curse, a cancer and my death

That death first experienced in the garden is humanity’s burden, and this lament reminds us that the weight of that would not have been lost on the first humans:

And every child of mine, will feel the serpent’s bite

The Apostle Paul spoke to this truth in 1 Corinthians when he reminds us that “Adam brought death to all of us” (1 Cor. 15:22a, CEV). But just as the garden makes death our burden, the cross makes life our gift. Paul goes on to say “Christ will bring life to all of us.” (1 Cor. 15:22b, CEV). This promise of victory over sin and death was there from the very beginning:

And every child of mine, will feel the serpent’s bite
But one will crush his head (Gen. 3:15)

The songwriter makes this promise a plea from Eve:

Oh come and crush his head
Oh come and crush his head!
Crush his head!

That is our cry as we approach Calvary with Jesus. We are watching the unfolding of a promise that has existed since the fall: that God would not let sin and death have the final word over humanity. The death that Jesus accepts as God’s will in the Garden of Gethsemane is the fulfillment of a prophecy spoken in the Garden of Eden: the serpent’s head is being crushed, and the shame felt so deeply in Eve’s Lament is finally lifted after countless generations of waiting.

As we prepare for what the coming days hold, we’re invited today to consider the full weight of what is happening. We do that by entering into the full weight of the fall. Only then can we appreciate the full victory of the cross.

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

Provided to YouTube by Catapult Reservatory, LLCEve's Lament (Genesis) · Caroline CobbA Home & A Hunger: Songs of Kingdom Hope℗ 2017 Sing the Story MusicRele...

Questions for Reflection:

1) As you consider your own sin and need for repentance during Lent, do you ever find yourself also feeling the weight of sin in the larger world? How might we bring that awareness to God, lamenting and yet hoping?

2) The questions of temptation asked in the song speak to the root of sin. Do you find temptation coming to you with similar questions? Bring any of these that resonate with your own journey of temptation to God in prayer.

Did He really say it? Why is He keeping you down?
Don’t you want to taste it? Freedom without Him around?
Don’t you want to know? Don’t you want to choose?
You want it, don’t you? Don’t you?

3) The serpent begins his temptation by causing the woman to doubt God’s word to them. How have you found God’s word a buffer against temptation? Spend some time in prayer asking God to ‘hide it in your heart” (Psalm 119:11) more deeply and richly so that you might, as Jesus did, answer the tempter’s false promises with the unfailing promises of God.

4) How might you best prepare for the journey of Holy Week? Is there a specific practice or marker you can use to set this week apart from others?

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

“So then, as through one trespass there is condemnation for everyone, so also through one righteous act there is justification leading to life for everyone. For just as through one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so also through the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.”—Romans 5:18-19 (CSB)

Jesus Wept

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Day Thirty-Three

It is well-known for being the shortest verse in the Bible, and it takes place just before the Passion story. Two words, from John 11:35:

Jesus wept.

Two words. A name and a verb. Yet John 11:35 is extremely profound.

It’s not long before Jesus and his disciples will enter Jerusalem on what we call Palm Sunday, and word comes to him that his friend Lazarus, from the town of Bethany, is sick. It’s immediately clear from the narrative that Jesus is particularly close to this family because of the language Lazarus’ sisters use in their communication to Jesus: “The one you love is sick.” (John 11:3)

“The one you love is sick.” Is there any worse news you can receive? How many times just today have people around the world received a notification like that? The one you love is sick. And immediately we want to know what we can do, how we can help. But in this case, it doesn’t prompt immediate action from Jesus. Lazarus may be a beloved friend, along with his sisters (John 11:5), but Jesus doesn’t seem to be in any rush to come to their aid. He declares that God has a plan in the midst of the crisis, waits a couple of days, shrugs off the disciples’ fear that it might be a dangerous trip, then heads to Bethany.

Many sermons have been preached on Mary and Martha, although preachers tend to focus on another encounter (recorded in Luke 10) when Jesus visits their home. Here in John 11, just like that earlier story, Martha and Mary have different responses to Jesus’ visit. Martha is quick to meet him as he arrives, but Mary stays back, perhaps frustrated that Jesus has taken this long. They are both clearly grieving, and confused as to why Jesus did not come sooner. After some theological back-and-forth, and after Mary eventually comes out to meet him, they make their way to Lazarus’ tomb.

And that is where Jesus weeps.

Preachers and theologians have debated the reasons for Jesus’ tears, wondering if it is a sign of grief or of something else. Some believe he is shedding tears at the unbelief of his friends, others think the pain and fear associated with Lazarus’ death is overwhelming him with thoughts of the cruel execution he faces when they go to Jerusalem. While theological debate can be interesting, I think it distracts us from what is a stunningly profound occurrence: the Son of God…weeps. The one who is fully divine displays his full humanness, and it is an important image for us to sit with.

In his song “Jesus Wept,” Michael Card proposes that the tears of Jesus are, ultimately, a mystery. The questions come, but they don’t find the answers we think we need:

Did Jesus weep for their disbelief?
Did he cry because his friend had died?
(Did he) take on himself all their pain and fear?

In the end, Michael Card says, the silent tears are a mystery. But while we may not know the inner thoughts of Jesus as he weeps, the very fact that he does so is incredibly important for us. We do not have a soulless, emotionless Savior. We have a friend who knows in every possible way what it means to be human. He knows pain, he knows sadness, he knows grief, he knows absolutely everything we go through (apart from sin). This is the very divine Son of God who humbled himself (Phil. 2:8)…who sympathizes with us in our weakness (Heb. 4:15)…who is like us in every way (Heb. 2:17), and as such we can come to him with anything we are going through and know that he understands. More than that—we can know that in the midst of that understanding there is compassion.

So often when we are contemplating the person of Jesus we want to solve the great theological mysteries, but we should never let the mysteries cloud our vision of the flesh and blood Savior who came to be with us and be one of us, who wept so that our tears might not fall alone.

Jesus wept that day mysterious silent tears,
The reason that He cried never will be clear.
But there's one certain thing, for now that we can say,
He had come to wipe all their tears away.

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

Watch Michael Card speak about this song and story here.

Provided to YouTube by TuneCoreJesus Wept · Michael CardJohn: A Misunderstood Messiah℗ 2014 Michael CardReleased on: 2014-07-15Auto-generated by YouTube.

Questions for Reflection:

1) Imagine you’re at the tomb of Lazarus as this story unfolds. Put yourself in the position of different people present: Mary & Martha, the other mourners, the disciples…maybe even Jesus and Lazarus. How would you have responded if you had been in their place? How does thinking about their responses affect the way you respond to the story?

2) What does it mean to you to know that Jesus is fully human and knows the full range of human emotions that we all deal with? How does the fullness of his humanity affect the way you experience the story of his final days?

3) Can you identify with the frustration of Mary and Martha? Have there been times that God has not “shown up” at the time or in the way you expected? Have you allowed yourself the space you need to process your disappointment? How might you bring it to God in conversation?

4) This passage from Philippians 2 is a wonderful text for contemplating the nature of Jesus, fully divine yet one of us. Spend some time with it in prayer as you prepare for the arrival of Holy Week:

“Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!

Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”—
Philippians 2:6-11 (NIV)

Litany of Humility

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Day Thirty-Two

Just before Jesus and his disciples arrive in Jerusalem, there is an interesting exchange that takes place. Matthew and Mark record it somewhat differently, but the essence is still the same:

“Then James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came to him. ‘Teacher,’ they said, ‘we want you to do for us whatever we ask.’

‘What do you want me to do for you?’ he asked.

They replied, ‘Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory.’

‘You don’t know what you are asking,’ Jesus said. ‘Can you drink the cup I drink or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?’

‘We can,’ they answered.

Jesus said to them, ‘You will drink the cup I drink and be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with, but to sit at my right or left is not for me to grant. These places belong to those for whom they have been prepared.’”—Mark 10:35-40 (NIV)

The disciples clearly know something is up. They can sense in the air that a change is coming, although when the events in Jerusalem unfold it will be much different than they imagine. Still, they know that it has something to do with the coming Kingdom of God, and they want to secure their place in whatever that Kingdom is going to look like.

James and John, along with Peter, are often seen as Jesus’ “inner circle” in the community of disciples. They have been with him since the very beginning, and they alone are with him at very significant events in his ministry, most notably the Transfiguration (Mark 9:2-3). And now, as the ministry of Jesus reaches its climactic point, they (and their mother, in Matthew’s account) make a request to be given seats of honor in the Kingdom.

Why do they ask this? Are they attempting to cement their place ahead of the other disciples (especially Peter)? Did they understand that Jesus would be leaving, and wanted to make sure they would be the ones in charge when he was gone? Or is it just plain vanity?

Whatever their thinking, it is clear they are seeking a position that will garner them attention and influence. But Jesus reminds them that in the Kingdom, the place of honor is not always associated with power and acclaim. In fact, it is associated with a “cup” and a “baptism” that are yet to be understood in all of their weight and responsibility. And most of all, the places of honor are not in his power to give. They are for those that God alone chooses.

We live in a world that echoes James and John every day, even in the church. We all, at times, scramble for places of honor and notability. We want to be noticed. But the path of Lent, the way of the cross, is not a journey into getting noticed and lifted up. It is a humbling journey where we focus on the one who was lifted up on our behalf, not to a place of honor but to a place of humiliation and disgrace (Gal. 3:13). He humbled himself for our salvation, and in response we, too, are called to humble ourselves.

The litany of humility, written by a Catholic cardinal in the 1800s, is a wonderful resource for all followers of Jesus who would seek to embrace his way of radical humility. It counters our own desire, like James and John, to be noticed. It challenges us to lay aside our own desires and fears and take up the cross of Christ. It is a worthwhile prayer at any time of year, but takes on a new dimension as we meditate on it during this season of Lent. As we approach Jerusalem, these are the requests we are invited to make of Jesus.

From the desire of being esteemed,
From the desire of being loved,
From the desire of being extolled,
From the desire of being honored,
From the desire of being praised,
From the desire of being preferred,
From the desire of being approved,
From the desire of being consulted,


Deliver me, oh deliver me Jesus
Deliver me, oh deliver me Jesus, Jesus, Jesus


From the fear of being humiliated,
From the fear of being despised,
From the fear of suffering rebukes,
From the fear of being calumniated,
From the fear of being forgotten,
From the fear of being wronged,
From the fear of being ridiculed,
From the fear of being suspected,


Deliver me, oh deliver me Jesus
Deliver me, oh deliver me Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Deliver me Jesus
Deliver me Jesus


That others be loved more than I,
Others esteemed more than I,
That others increase and I decrease, in the world's eyes,
That others be chosen and I set aside,
Others praised and I unnoticed,
Others be preferred in everything,
That others become holier than I,
Provided that I may become as holy as I should,


O Jesus, grant me the grace
Oh grant me the grace to desire it.
O Jesus, grant me the grace
Oh grant me the grace to desire it
To desire it
Grant me the grace to desire it.

Meek and humble of heart, Jesus
Meek and humble of heart, heal us
Meek and humble of heart, Jesus

You can read more about the Litany of Humility here

You can listen to a different, more contemplative song version of this prayer here

This beautiful prayer of humility was written by Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (1865-1930). Adapted and sung by Danielle Rose on her album I Thirst. The orig...

Prayerful Reflection:

For our time of reflection today we are going to sit with each of the sections in the Litany of Humility. As you read reflectively through each part, pay attention to which ones resonate most with your own journey of humility. Are there any that challenge you? Are there any that provoke or irritate you? Pay attention to all the ways you respond and bring those responses to God in prayer.


O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, hear me.

From the desire of being esteemed…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being loved…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being extolled…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being honored…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being praised…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being preferred to others…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being consulted…deliver me, Jesus

From the desire of being approved…deliver me, Jesus


O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, hear me.

From the fear of being humiliated…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being despised…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of suffering rebukes…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being calumniated…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being forgotten…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being ridiculed…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being wronged…deliver me, Jesus

From the fear of being suspected…deliver me, Jesus


O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, hear me.

That others may be loved more than I…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be esteemed more than I…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be chosen and I set aside…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be praised and I unnoticed…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may be preferred to me in everything…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should…
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.


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

“Lord, my heart is not proud;
my eyes are not haughty.
I don’t concern myself with matters too great
or too awesome for me to grasp.
Instead, I have calmed and quieted myself,
like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk.
Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me.”
—Psalm 131:1-2 (NLT)

Reckless Love

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Day Thirty-One

When I was about 13, my family headed south for a family wedding in Georgia. I probably wouldn’t remember the road trip itself except there was one incident along the way that has stuck with me ever since.

We were in the parking lot of a hotel along the interstate, and my father had struck up a conversation with a man who was loading his own car up after checking out. My dad was a salesman, and had an easygoing and affable way about himself that drew people in, and before long this gentleman was sharing with my father his harrowing story. As a young man, standing nearby and listening in, I was transfixed, for it turns out his daughter had been kidnapped by a cult and he had no idea where they had taken her. He had quit his job and hit the road, following clue after clue, hint after frustratingly meager hint, in hopes of finding his daughter and bringing her home. He would stop at nothing to bring her home.

This gentleman’s story cemented two things in me: 1) a lifelong curiosity in cults and the way they work, and more importantly 2) the image of a father’s love that would go to any length to rescue a child they loved so dearly. When I became a Christian in college, that story came back to me as a perfect illustration of God’s pursuing love for us: we had been taken captive, dragged off far away from the life we were meant to live, seduced by false promises and lies, and God was willing to go to the most extreme lengths imaginable to bring us back. Jesus himself proclaims this as his mission:

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.”—Luke 19:10 (NIV)

And what is it that has prompted this mission? Love, plain and simple. As John says:

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.”—1 John 4:10 (NIV)

How can we begin to even imagine so great a love? What words can we use to describe it? Our vocabulary isn’t extensive enough to capture it in its completeness. Paul himself acknowledged this, saying that the love of Jesus “surpasses knowledge” (Eph. 3:19). There are many words and terms available to us, yet the word that sits at the center of today’s song is one that may catch us off guard, and may even cause us to push back:

Reckless

At first glance it may seem an inappropriate word to associate with God. In fact, when the song was first released there were quite a few voices who quickly spoke out in opposition to it. Songwriter Cory Asbury responded to the criticism by referencing the incident in Luke 15 where Jesus is criticized for eating with sinners and tax collectors. Jesus responds by sharing parables of love that goes to great lengths, even putting oneself at risk, to reclaim that which was lost. In the eyes of the world, Asbury says, that kind of love is seen as reckless.

"When I used the phrase 'the reckless love of God,' when we say it, we're not saying that God himself is reckless. He's not crazy. We are, however, saying that the way he loves in many regards is quite so. What I mean is this: He's utterly unconcerned with the consequences of his actions with regard to his own safety, comfort, and well-being....His love doesn't consider himself first. It isn't selfish or self-serving. He doesn't wonder what he'll gain or lose by putting himself on the line."—Cory Asbury (you can listen to him share more about the song here)

Embracing the idea that God’s love is “reckless” is to acknowledge that the kind of love we see in the cross makes no sense from a worldly perspective. In fact, Paul called it “foolishness” (1 Cor. 1:18). But in the context of divine love it is not foolish at all. It is willing to give itself away for the hope that we will respond in kind and return to the one who “paid it all for me.”

There’s no shadow You won’t light up
Mountain You won’t climb up
Coming after me
There’s no wall You won’t kick down
Lie You won’t tear down
Coming after me

Read the rest of the lyrics here.

The official acoustic version of "Reckless Love" by Cory Asbury. Subscribe to our channel for weekly videos: http://bit.ly/BMsubscribe Get the new "Reckless ...

Questions for Reflection:

1) How do you respond to the word “reckless” being used to describe the love of God? Use your reaction, positive or negative, to start a conversation with God about how you understand his love.

2) Francis Thompson’s famous poem, “The Hound of Heaven,” builds on this imagery of a God who pursues us despite our running from him. The opening lines are haunting:

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him, down the arches of the years;
I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears

In your life, how have you known the pursuing love of God, running after you despite your unwillingness to accept it? Is there any way in which you are still running, any reluctance in your spirit to enter into his love fully? Spend time with God offering any hesitancy, and giving thanks for his love that never gives up.

(You can watch a modern adaptation of “The Hound of Heaven” here)

3) Jesus’ parable of the lost sheep is a perfect example of the pursuing love of God. Spend some time reading it and dwelling in it. Perhaps read it out loud. What about this parable speaks to you right now? Do any words or phrases stand out? Why?

“So he told them this parable: ‘Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.”—Luke 15:3-7 (NRS)

4) Overwhelming...never-ending…reckless…three words from today’s song used to describe God’s love. What other words come to your mind, maybe even gleaned from other songs/hymns?

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

“For thus says the Lord God: I myself will search for my sheep, and will seek them out. As shepherds seek out their flocks when they are among their scattered sheep, so I will seek out my sheep. I will rescue them from all the places to which they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness.”—Ezekiel 34:11-12 (NRSV)

Jesu, Grant Me This I Pray

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Day Thirty

“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you should follow in his steps.

‘He committed no sin,
and no deceit was found in his mouth.’

When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that, free from sins, we might live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.”—1 Peter 2:21-24 (NRSV)

Throughout our 40-day Lenten journey we reflect on the wounds of Christ, on the price that was paid so that our sin might no longer stand in the way of an intimate friendship with God. The wounds of Christ testify to his love, witness to his sacrifice, and proclaim his saving grace to a fallen, broken world. We do well to reflect on his wounds.

But Thomas à Kempis, the 15th century priest who wrote The Imitation of Christ, one of the most popular devotional works ever published, suggests that there is an invitation that comes to us regarding Christ’s wounds that involves more than seasonal contemplation and reflection:

“If you cannot contemplate high and heavenly things, rest your thoughts on Christ’s Passion, and dwell freely on his Sacred Wounds. If you go for refuge to Jesus’s Wounds and to the precious marks of his Passion with humility and love, you will feel great comfort in troubled times, you will not be too concerned about what other people think of you, and it will not be hard to put up with the humiliating things that they may say about you.”—Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

These are words that speak to where we make our spiritual home in times of difficulty, and Thomas makes it clear that it is the wounds of Christ which are our refuge. Some translations literally say, “Rest in Christ’s Passion and live willingly in his holy wounds.” It is an image of taking up residence, of establishing where we center our lives. We are invited to make the wounds of Jesus our dwelling place.

It is reminiscent of Paul’s words describing his own ministry in the city of Corinth:

“For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”—1 Corinthians 2:2 (NRSV)

It was the Passion of Jesus upon which Paul centered his teaching, knowing that it was the message of the cross that alone had the power to save. It was also the defining image of his inner life, as he said in Philippians:

“I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”—Philippians 3:10 (NRSV)

To “become like Christ in his death” is to take refuge in his wounds, a dying to ourselves so profound that we are defined not by our actions but Christ’s. It is a reorienting of our sense of self—living each moment in the awareness of God’s sacrificial love, knowing who we are, whose we are, and the great price that was paid for our salvation. As Thomas à Kempis wrote, that knowledge enables us to find comfort in seasons of difficulty, and to erect a buffer of God’s truth in the face of the world’s lies.

Taking refuge in the wounds of Jesus also provides strength in the face of temptation. As we live out of our awareness that Jesus bled and died so that we might be forgiven, we are humbled and brought over and over again to the knowledge that apart from him we can do nothing. The anonymous 17th century writer of “Dignare me, O Jesu, rogo te” reminds us of this truth in today’s hymn, translated by Sir Henry Williams Baker in 1861:

If the world or Satan lay
Tempting snares about my way,
I am safe when I abide
In thy heart and wounded side.

We are safe when we abide in the heart and the wounds of Christ. As we seek to know him in this profound way, we echo the cry of Charles Spurgeon:

Thy wounds, oh Jesus! Thy wounds; these are my refuge in my trouble.
Oh sinner, may you be helped to believe in his wounds!
They cannot fail; Christ's wounds must heal those that put their trust in him.

As you make your way to Jerusalem, may you find a refuge in his heart and wounded side.

Jesu, grant me this, I pray,
ever in thy heart to stay;
let me evermore abide
hidden in thy wounded side.

Read the rest of the lyrics here.


Questions for Reflection:

1) How do you understand the difference between reflecting on the wounds of Jesus and “dwelling in” them?

2) Spend some time reflecting on these words from Matthew Henry:

Christ's wounds are thy healings,
His agonies thy repose,
His conflicts thy conquests,
His groans thy songs,
His pains thine ease,
His shame thy glory,
His death thy life,
His sufferings thy salvation.

Is there any one of those that speaks more personally to you than others? What about it grabs you?

3) How might you incorporate the invitation to find refuge in Christ’s wounds into your spiritual formation journey after the Lenten journey is finished? What practices or disciplines might be helpful in that?

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

“Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him.”—Romans 6:8 (ESV)