Good Friday 2015

This was first used as a series of devotions for Good Friday at Cornerstone Christian Church, April 3, 2015. Each devotion corresponded to a location on the church property. The response card mentioned can be found at the end. The locations were the Mount of Olives, The High Priest's Courtyard, Pilate's Courtyard, The Road to Golgotha and Golgotha

Station #1: The Mount Of Olives

During our short walk, we will visit six stations that represent six scenes from the final 24 hours of Jesus’ life. At each station, we will read a small section from the records of Jesus’ life, and think about the impact of that 24 hour journey towards the cross. We have a chance to come clean with God about the rust that has accumulated from this life, and claim the renovated life He offers. Let us pray.

We come first the Mount of Olives. Jesus and his disciples have just eaten the Passover meal together. Two unexpected things happened: Jesus was more open with them than he had ever been and Jesus had just told them that he was leaving. Luke’s biography of Jesus records what happened next:

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. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.

When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow. “Why are you sleeping?” he asked them. “Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.” (Luke 22:39-26)

The Bible tells us that Jesus was tempted in every way like we are tempted. Here we see it. There was alternative narrative—another plan--one where Jesus became king without the agony of the cross, the humiliation before his people, the betrayal and desertion of his friends and the blackness of the world’s sin. So compelling was this narrative that the devil used it to tempt Jesus—so forceful that Jesus was in anguish—so intense that he sweat blood. Asking for any alternative within the Father’s will, he nonetheless returned to this simple phrase “Not my will, but yours be done.”

Not my will. Not my agenda. Not my plan. Not my dreams. But your agenda. But your plan. But your dream, oh God. Jesus taught us to pray:

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. (Matthew 6:9-10)

Spent any time dreaming this week? For your career, for your kids, for your friends, for your security, for your ministry, for your health? Was there ever a time when you have to give up what you really wanted in order to do the right thing? Write that down on your response card.  

God has a bigger dream for us, but we cannot always welcome it when our hands are full of our own dreams. Perhaps less prominent, less visible, less secure, less comfortable, or less respected—but ultimately bigger, more impactful, more joyful and more satisfying.

If you are able, will you kneel with me here to pray? If you cannot kneel, place your heart in an attitude of kneeling before God. Now, life your closed hands toward heaven. Let us pray (as they pray to open their hands to let go of their dreams, and welcome of the aspirations and dreams of God)

Station #2: The High Priest's Courtyard

We are standing now in the High Priest’s Courtyard. Witnesses after witness, come following Jesus’ nighttime arrest to give their conflicting testimony to the chief priests and temple officials. Nearby, another crowd of servants and temple guards gather around a fire to warm themselves. Peter, Jesus’ disciple, mingles anonymously nearby. Luke’s biography of Jesus records the scene:

Then seizing him [Jesus], they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. And when some there had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them. A servant girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, “This man was with him.” 

But he denied it. “Woman, I don’t know him,” he said.

A little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.”

“Man, I am not!” Peter replied.

About an hour later another asserted, “Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.”

Peter replied, “Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.

Peter’s dreams and aspirations were built around Jesus. Not the actual Jesus. Not the arrested and condemned Jesus. Not the suffering servant, love-thine-enemy Jesus. No, his plans were built around the successful Jesus, the conquering, kick-Roman-butt, iconoclastic, king Jesus. Now, miserable, he came to this courtyard to see what would happen. Knowing Jesus was a sort of liability. As in, he was liable to get arrested himself.

Jesus is an uncomfortable word in our vocabulary. Not because we don’t know who he is, or what he has done. We are free enough within our circle of the friends of Jesus. But, like Peter, we worry how the stigma of his name will carry over to us. Are we weird? Are we pushy? Are we negative? What will people think if they know we are with Jesus? So we mutter our prayers, muffle our thanks and mumble about the source of our strength and guidance. Jesus is a Sunday word, or a swear word, but not the name of a friend mentioned in polite company.

On your card, list one scene in your life, where it was tough to talk about Jesus, even though you knew you should. You were unnaturally quiet about Jesus. Work? Friends? Family? School or after school? Clubs?

Pray (ask them to join you in saying the name Jesus).

Station #3: Pilate's Courtyard

We’re standing in Pilate’s courtyard. While the chief priests could convict Jesus of all sorts of trumped-up charges, only Pilate, the Roman governor, could authorize the death sentence. I’m going to read a portion of Matthew’s biography of Jesus that records the scene, but I need your help. When I come to a certain point in the story, I will raise up my left hand, and you should shout out “Barabbas” and when I raise up my left hand, you should shout out, “Crucify him.” Let’s practice that. etc.

Meanwhile Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “You have said so,” Jesus replied.

When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. Then Pilate asked him, “Don’t you hear the testimony they are bringing against you?” But Jesus made no reply, not even to a single charge—to the great amazement of the governor.

Now it was the governor’s custom at the festival to release a prisoner chosen by the crowd. At that time they had a well-known prisoner whose name was Jesus Barabbas. So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, “Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” For he knew it was out of self-interest that they had handed Jesus over to him.

While Pilate was sitting on the judge’s seat, his wife sent him this message: “Don’t have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him.”

But the chief priests and the elders persuaded the crowd to ask for Barabbas and to have Jesus executed.

“Which of the two do you want me to release to you?” asked the governor.

“Barabbas,” they answered.

“What shall I do, then, with Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Pilate asked.

They all answered, “Crucify him!”

“Why? What crime has he committed?” asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, “Crucify him!”

When Pilate saw that he was getting nowhere, but that instead an uproar was starting, he took water and washed his hands in front of the crowd. “I am innocent of this man’s blood,” he said. “It is your responsibility!” All the people answered, “His blood is on us and on our children!”

Then he released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said. They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

Are we innocent? The funny thing is, everyone in this scene knew one truth: Jesus was innocent. Pilate knew it. The chief priests knew it. The crowd was led away from it. The guards didn’t care. Even Pilate’s wife knew it. But somehow, at the end, despite that innocence, Jesus is led away to be crucified.  Why?

Because they settled. The priests should be the point people for God, but settled for staying atop the garbage heap religiously by pushing Jesus down. Pilate should be governing with an even hand, but he settled for the upper hand by sticking it to the priests. The crowds had been shouting for Jesus Messiah “Hosanna. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord” just the day before, and now they settled for Barabbas. The guards, well, they were bored and, when you don’t believe in anything yourself, you settle for making fun of those who do believe. Jesus was standing right in front of them! But they settled.

Have you settled? Maybe you once were excited about the future, maybe excited about where God was going, maybe excited about this new life of faith in Jesus. The truth burned within you. But then something happened, maybe you couldn’t see how it was going to work out, maybe you got in a relational cold war, maybe you felt threatened, or just tired and burnt out and so you backed off. You settled.

Settling traps you, but:

Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” (John 8:31-32)

God has shown you great things, but think of one area where you’ve settled, where you knew what was really true, but did nothing about it and settled. Then pray with me. 

Station #4: The Road to Golgotha

We are following the road from the governor’s palace, out of the city of Jerusalem, towards the place of execution, Golgotha, perhaps a mile away. We read in Luke’s biography of Jesus these words.

As the soldiers led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. (Luke 23:11-12)

This is the second time during these last 24 hours that Jesus’ physical strength has failed him. First, it was in Gethsemane when he prayed. Angels came while his disciples slept. Simon Peter has denied Jesus and fled, but now the Roman soldiers escorting Jesus conscript Simon, a spectator, an outsider to carry what was probably the cross-beam, weighing as much as 100 pounds. 

Jesus’ mission was uniquely his own, but it was not his to do alone. When other disciples fell away, others were found to walk behind Jesus.  Why wasn’t Jesus strong enough? Why weren’t more angels dispatched? It was to leave a gap, so that Simon could be a participant in God’s plan, rather than just a spectator. Jesus said:

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)

God has left a gap; left something undone—not because he couldn’t arrange to do it for himself, but because he want us to participate, not spectate. Maybe someone else should have done it or could have done it. Not because it is natural or a good fit or convenient for you or me. But because we want so desperately to go where Jesus goes. Will you take up Jesus’ burden and follow after him? He said:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

Has God left a gap for you-for you to participate? On your response card, list one area where God has left something for you, but it would require a big change. Then, pray with me. 

Station #5: The Cross

Now we come to Golgotha, the place of the skull. Jesus is stripped naked, his arms stretched out and nailed to the crossbeam, the crossbeam lifted and attached to the upright, his legs bent slightly and nailed to the post. Luke records it this way:

When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified him there, along with the criminals—one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.

It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. 

Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last. (Luke 23:33-34, 44-46)

Why did Jesus go there? Why the cross?

Each of us carries secrets. Memories of things we’d rather forget. Helping hands withheld. Words that we should not have spoken. Things we wish we’d never done.  Thoughts that we can’t unthink. We like to think better of ourselves, but our secrets would tell a different, shameful story. 

That’s why the cross. Jesus knows those secrets. He took the shame, the humiliation, the punishment you deserved for your secrets on that cross.  The Bible says:

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. (Romans 8:1-2)

No one can say, “Not good enough” or “Used up” or “Damaged” When we trust him, those secrets no longer control today or tomorrow or forever. The Bible says:

He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the charge of our legal indebtedness, which stood against us and condemned us; he has taken it away, nailing it to the cross. (Colossians 2:13b-14)

Maybe you have secrets. Never shared. Will you let God take the shame from you? Write a word on your card, fold that card in half, and with the other words you’ve written this evening, take a nail, take the hammer and agree with God by nailing it to the cross. Take the freedom he offers through that forgiveness.

Response Card
The boxes were for stamps that were present at each station for people to record their progress. They were originally meant for children, but proved as popular with adults.

Ephesians 1:8: Grace Lavished

If you're going to give, go over the top. Yes, they could get by with X and be happy. But why not go the extra mile and give them X + 1 and let them rejoice exceedingly, abundantly (see Matt. 5:40-42)? This isn't about money or stuff. It is about helping and loving, with everything that entails.

Why are we such stingy givers? Here are three reasons I have found in my own life:

First, we gauge our gift based on the perceived worthiness of the recipient. They don't need it. They will waste it or misuse it. There are others who need it more. Even in church (see James 2:2-4). But God doesn't act that way towards us. "Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won't he also give us everything else?" (Rom. 8:32) I want my love to look more like grace, not like a transaction based on return-on-investment.

Second, we don't get appreciated for our gift. We do the right thing but no one-including God-seems to notice. We resort to subtle reminders to let others and God know what we've done. No need for trumpets  (Matt. 6:2) when the off-hand comment and self-deprecating remark will do the trick. Down that path is resentment and disappointment. Rick Warren commented, "What you get out of service is joy. You don’t get approval. God approves of you, but it’s not because of what you do. He approves of you because of what Christ did for you already. That’s grace."[1] I want my love to look more like grace, not a barter economy.

Third, we need to ration our giving. We might run out. If I give too much here, there won't be enough there. But this isn't a limited grace universe.  Paul comments, "I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe." We live like the impoverished when, in fact, we have access to God's inexhaustible resources of hope and power. I want to give like I am rich in God's grace.

His grace is lavished upon us. Lavish it on others:



[1] Is Legalism Killing Your Ministry, Rick Warren, http://pastors.com/legalism-in-ministry/, retrieved on 26 February 2015

1 Thessalonians 4: My Godly, Everyday Ambition

I work with my hands. Whether coding, writing specifications, commenting on company events, or managing projects by e-mail, a great deal of my productivity flows through thoughts expressed by the ten fingers God gave me. How is God's handiwork revealed in my hand-iwork?

There are many ways this core question gets worked out in specific job contexts, such as those discussed in the excellent book Faithful Is Successful: Notes to the Driven Pilgrim. One of the contributors (Bryan McT. McGraw) notes, "Sometimes, it seems to me, to fulfill one's vocation means working out what we are called to do wherever it is we get planted rather than always figuring out how we can re-plant ourselves elsewhere so as to do what we are 'really supposed to be doing.'"[1]

Nestled in our quest for the job that fits us is the ambition for our professional world to conform to us. When it doesn't, we cultivate the dissatisfaction of our heart rather than seeking God's ambition for us where we are. The Bible says a lot about work and how we do it, but one of my favorite overlooked verses deals with this topic:

Yet we urge you, brothers and sisters, to ... make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. - 1 Thessalonians 4:10b-12

These verses set an ambitious course against our selfish tendencies. It is our habit to:

1. Attract attention ("lead a quiet life")
2. Spectate rather than participate ("mind your own business and work with your hands")
3. Do just enough to get by ("win the respect of outsiders") 
4. Repeat this pattern because it's easy ("will not be dependent on others").

These themes are repeated again at the end of both of Paul's letters to the Thessalonians (cf. 1 Thessalonians 5:12-14).

Sometimes, this ambition seems too tame. Not grand enough. Not spiritual enough. But I wonder if we are leaving many of God's appointed tasks undone or unappreciated because we consider them spiritual enough. A recent article from Western Seminary's blog said it this way:

Can I ask you, when was the last time you came to the end of your day and paused for just a minute or two, reflected back over the day and said, “That was a good day.”

Or, “That child who came to school today obviously upset, went home with a better attitude because I had a chance to chat with her.”

“That accounting mistake I found will save us thousands of dollars down the line. That was good.”

“That pallet of products I produced will be a blessing to folks as they purchase them and use them in their home. That’s good”.

“That couple who came into the hospital today to face the first of many cancer treatments, seemed comforted by the hope I was able to give them. That was very good.”

“Those new tires I installed on that lady’s car seemed to give her a peace of mind that had been in turmoil. That was good.”

“That kind word I spoke to that grumpy customer as he left brought a smile to his face. That was good.”

Were those really sacred acts? Even those done in a secular environment? Even though it wasn’t “church stuff?” Well, Jesus said they are. In Matthew 5:16 he said, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Sounds sacred to me.[2]

My job, software engineering, is a sacred calling, because it puts the genius of God on display. He is shown in the steady, slow, quiet progress of transformation, in me and in my workplace. He is shown in increasing generosity and compassion in all aspects of my life because of God's provision to me. That is my ambition.

[1] Faithful Is Successful: Notes to the Driven Pilgrim, Grills, Lewis, Swamidass, 2014, p.21
[2] "God Is A Worker And I'm Made In His Image", Jim Hislop, 9 June 2014, http://www.westernseminary.edu/transformedblog/2014/06/09/god-is-a-worker-and-im-made-in-his-image , retrieved 15 February 2015

2 Kings 8: Self-Serving Interpretations

In the book of 2nd Kings, chapter 8, there is one of those confusing prophecies which makes you question if you really know how God works and thinks (see also 1 Kings 22). The king of Aram, Ben-Hadad, is very sick and sends his right-hand man, Hazael to ask Elisha about his future. Elisha says to him: “Go and say to him, ‘You will certainly recover.’ Nevertheless, the Lord has revealed to me that he will in fact die.” (2 Kings 8:10)

So Hazael goes back to Ben-Hadad, tells him the first part, and on the next day, smothers him to death with a water soaked cloth. (vs. 15)

Did God instruct Elisha to tell Hazael to lie? No. He likely did recover. But 'nevertheless' he died: murdered. Like many of the other prophecies of Elisha (cf. 2 Kings 7:2), these double-edged prophecies serve to reveal the character of the hearer. By how he responds, Hazael will show what kind of man he is. Watch the sequence of events.

First, he reveals himself by his reaction to the prophecy. After Elisha gives this prophecy, there is curious phrase: "He stared at him with a fixed gaze until Hazael was embarrassed." (vs. 11a) God knew that the coup attempt was already in Hazael's thoughts. Elisha watched his reaction. When there was none, "Then the man of God began to weep." (vs. 11b) He did not care about the king. The king's death was not a loss for Hazael, but an opportunity.

Second, he reveals himself by pretending to not understand. He tries to cover it up. “Why is my lord weeping?” asked Hazael. (vs. 12) When Elisha tells him that he will be responsible for terrible acts of violence against Israel's people, he is not insulted or horrified. Instead he asks how he would get that kind of power and position: "Hazael said, “How could your servant, a mere dog, accomplish such a feat?” (vs. 13a) There it is: ambition cloaked in false humility.

When Elisha tells him what he wants to hear: “The Lord has shown me that you will become king of Aram,” (vs. 13b), he does not pause to consider: "I could serve the king faithfully until he dies and he or the leaders will make me the next king." No, he takes Elisha's words as a mandate from heaven and carries out the coup against the king who trusted him with his life. He gains his secret desire at the cost of becoming the worst sort of man. He took the prophecy, not as a judgement, but as a get-out-of-jail-free card to carry out his own desires.

We also do this. Many times we select the parts of the truth we listen to; we select the parts of the truth we pass on to others; and we edit God's word so that it seems to authorize the accomplishment of what we want. Even at the cost of becoming the worst sort of man or woman. Check your ambitions, your big goals, your hearts desire, your unspoken wishes, and see if you aren't sacrificing your character on their altar. God will offer a test. Will you follow your own self-serving interpretation? Do you have people who can tell you when you're off course?

What good is it for someone to gain the world, yet forfeit their soul? (Mark 8:36)