Holy Monday

Today—to kick things off—we’re going to get in touch with some the historical background of Holy Week. (And all the prophets, nerds, academics and empirical thinkers of the world rejoiced.)

Justin Taylor, who is a frequent contributor to the Gospel Coalition website, posted a helpful “Who,” What," and “Where” of Holy Week earlier today. It can be accessed here. Some things to notice:

• Bible Gateway has made a visualization of all the events of Holy Week, which is exceptionally rich. It includes scripture references from the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) and also the relationships between all of the people involved in the narratives (when they were together/apart, when the ‘crowd’ or ‘religious leaders’ make entrances and exits, etc.). Neat-o.
• Google Map of the proposed area in which Jesus walked during his last days. Pretty cool to see it live and in color.

What about Holy Monday specifically? Taylor also posted a chronological breakdown of the events of Holy Monday by harmonizing the gospels to the best of his ability (with the help of the ESV Study Bible). You can access this by clicking here.

These are great resources and helpful facts, but it wouldn’t be a great idea to leave things at that. We know that knowledge—apart from the humility and love of the gospel—puffs up (1 Corinthians 8:1). So how can we be built up this Holy Monday?

In their observation of this day, the Roman Catholic church traditionally pairs the accounts of Jesus Cursing the Fig Tree and Jesus Clearing the Temple with readings of Isaiah 42:1-7 and Psalm 27:1-3 & 13-14. Let’s focus on Psalm 27:1-3 for a moment:

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, my adversaries and foes, it is they who stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear, though war arise against me, yet I will be confident.

—Psalm 27:1-3

How does this connect? Providentially enough, this coincides with what Harvey preached on Palm Sunday. During his life, Jesus knew exactly what he was doing. He came to draw a line in the sand. In many ways, he didn’t come to bring peace, but a sword. With every healing, every sermon, every moment his enemies came closer to assail. Can’t help but wonder if texts like Psalm 27 rung through his head as he brought them to life. 

Behold your savior this Holy Monday. He endured the utmost hostility for our sake. He allowed the enemy to assail him. And he became our victor. Let Jesus’ confidence give you courage. The same God who cleansed the temple has made you his temple… and he shares his victory with you.

Drinking from a Fire Hose

One of my favorite pastors once said that attending a conference is kind of like drinking from a fire hose. Today's Acts 29 Regional Event at Living Stones was certainly no exception. Jeff Vanderstelt from Soma Communities proved himself to be the conduit of a ton of truth, wisdom and much-needed exhortation. I left feeling impacted (as fire hoses inevitably pack a significant punch), soaked and satisfied by the gospel of Jesus. Now, I'm wringing out my head and heart by blogging some of my notes.

Drinking from a fire hose is hard to do second hand, but the good news is that the audio will probably be available from the websites above soon. Keep watch on that.

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A true disciple is someone who knows how to make disciples. Do you know how to make a disciple? Do I? Are you taking the time to consider what it is that you're doing to make disciples? "Making disciples" -- the command we've received from Jesus -- implies not only knowledge of the execution, but intentional and cooperative action.

Before immediately moving in on people's lives with counsel, let the Holy Spirit do some counseling. It's his job, after all. When listening to people expound their struggles, don't immediately think "what advice can I give?" Rather, listen to what they're saying about the gospel.

Every time you preach or teach, you do so to unbelievers. Everyone has areas of their lives in which they have not believed the truth, power and sufficiency of the gospel and been transformed; Christian or not.

Every time you study the Bible, it should result in outward focus. Bible study means we "do" the Bible, not just "hear" the Bible. (James 1:22-25)

We don't come to the Scriptures to know the Scriptures. We come to the Scriptures to know Jesus. (John 5:39)

Knowing someone's story naturally evokes grace. Get to know the story behind people's actions and apply the gospel to it -- it's the only hope for making a happy ending to that story possible.

When leading people, give them something to do. A goal forces us to grow up and forgo the stagnance of comfort to which we are so prone. Better yet, make it an impossible one -- one that cannot even be imagined as being true apart from the sufficiency and work of Jesus. Always lead people to a life that cannot be lived without him, settling for nothing less.

Sanctification first comes from sitting at the cross and saying "thank you." It is faith first and response second. This is not to be confused.

Being filled by the Spirit and led by the Spirit is the overcoming of sin. Think about what this means. When we're completely filled up and satisfied with who Christ by his Spirit and allowing our desires to be led by him through his Spirit, fruit is the outcome -- not sin. It's a fight, but we're not defeated!

Enough To Go Around

While preparing to go to Guatemala on a short-term mission trip last fall, I caught a piece of information that struck me then and has continued to strike me since.

The Quiché people of Guatemala, whose belief system is derived from Christian and Mayan roots, have an interesting approach to relating to one another. They believe in the concept of limited good, which asserts that there is only a fixed amount of good in the world. If you're not getting good, you're getting evil. Each of us can hope for a hearty helping of blessing, but -- at the end of the day -- if someone else's cup overflows, yours is going to run dry. 

Imagine for a moment the implications of this view. If you believe that there is only so much good to be had in this world, how does this affect the way you respond to your neighbor's snazzy new car? Your co-worker's promotion? Your brother's wife's cousin's cancer diagnosis? I offer a few theories. If this worldview has had its way in you, you are prone to think that the good in other's lives is an enemy of your own. When this takes root, you don't have a fighting chance at truly being happy for others. Their success stands as a reminder of what you are less likely to enjoy. The converse is perhaps more disturbing. If something bad happens to someone, you are apt to find yourself breathing a twisted sigh of relief. There is now one less chance of you having to suffer a similar fate. And you secretly celebrate -- party of one. 

I realize that this sounds extreme and that -- for most of us -- this belief doesn't manifest itself with such severity. But I honestly see this worldview in our hearts, in my heart. Your friendly neighborhood anthropologist might tell you that this belief is most common in traditional societies and not industrialized ones like ours... but I think we know better. These roots run deeply in us. And they cannot be doused with the pesticides of concerted effort. 

I especially see it in (gulp) the ladies. Let's be honest. How often has your rejoicing been stunted because you feel, somewhere in the deep recesses of you heart, that the "good" thing that happened to your sister (whatever that "good" thing is) would or could never happen to you? She has perfect children. I will never have perfect children. Her husband is the man. Mine is... not. Her fiancé planned out the perfect proposal. I would be lucky to get a guy to ask me what time it is. Her life is a-ma-zing. Mine will always be bo-or-ing. And (this one is harder to admit), how often have you walked a little taller knowing that your life is not as bad as "hers?" You're a little smarter? You look a little better? The truth is, the concept of limited good is only good for one thing: making us ugly. 

We need to get to the roots. If we're plagued by believing in limited good, even in the most subtle sense, we need to repent, turn back toward God. If we are captive to the notion of limited good, we are ultimately saying, "Sorry, buddy. You're not too good at the whole 'giving gifts to your kids' thing. You keep getting it wrong." I implore you to think better of him. Believe the truth. Esteem him much, much higher. Also, take some time to think through how you define "good." In God's economy, putting yourself first puts you on the fast-track to finishing last. Thinking of yourself as wiser than God confirms that you are a fool. Sometimes good looks like a new car, the perfect day or a thriving marriage. Sometimes good looks like a worst-case scenario, the loss of the irreplaceable or the words you never wanted to hear. How? "...We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28) The truth is, there is no limited good because there is no limit to what God can make good. Because of him, we are free to rejoice with others because their good is no longer the enemy of our own. We are free to glory in Jesus, who suffered the worst, in order to share his best with us.

Thank you, God, that we can rest in this. And thank you that there really is enough good to go around.

5%

I'm currently reading a book called Leading On Empty by Wayne Cordeiro... and it's good. It serves as a very practical and helpful tool in preventing burnout and helping you recover from burnout if you're already feeling its pangs. Cordeiro communicates as if he's an old mentor who understands, whose axioms are simple enough to absorb, accessible enough to transcend many contexts and deep enough to keep you wondering, "how do I make this manifest in my own life?" I recommend this book to all, but especially to those who are figuring out what it looks like to endure and truly run after Christ for a lifetime. We're talking about the marathon. We're not talking about intermittent, short sprints when it's comfortable or seems appropriate to get off the sidelines. We're talking tortoise, not hare.

One of the exercises in the book is about setting your priorities in life. No, it's not earth-shattering. But the more sure you are of your priorities, the less likely you are to flounder in crisis moments, the less likely you are to waffle under the pressure of decisions. You already know -- deep within -- what's important. So you act in accordance with what has already been established rather than scrambling to get a coherent stance together when your mind and heart look more like scrambled eggs than... unscrambled eggs.

Cordeiro wisely helps us unscramble ourselves by putting the things that make up our lives into three helpful categories:

• 85% of our lives are made up of tasks to do that anyone could do -- like answering emails, going to meetings, getting groceries and the like.
• 10% of our lives are comprised of things that we could potentially delegate to others given that we are training them properly. 
• Next is what we've been building up to: the final 5%. These are the things that only we can be responsible for. They cannot be delegated. These are the things that God has asked us to do.

There are some things to note here. The things in these categories change with life stage and circumstance, but the principle remains the same. Also, these percentages are not hard and fast and they're not necessarily inspired. We cannot replace the Holy Spirit's work in our lives with pragmatism. However, this is a helpful way to at least get us intentionally thinking about our priorities rather than just assuming we know what they are and we are living like they are.

Coming up with my 5% was not as difficult as I thought, but I know it's a work in progress. For now, these are what I know are my priorities:

1. Reckoning and believing God the Father to be my Father, Jesus to be my Savior and my Treasure, and the Holy Spirit to be my best Helper and walking by this faith -- more and more as I live. 
2. In all humility, as a beggar showing other beggars where they can find bread, leading others to Jesus, the Bread of Life. 
3. Being a friend to my family and family to my friends. (I should explain this one. Over the years, my close friends have become my family -- a fact that I am thankful for and love, and I do believe that they are my family. However, I also have a hard time pouring the same amount of love, blood, sweat and tears into some my actual family because of brokenness. So what I mean by this statement is that I want to give both my "physical" family and "friend" family the same level of priority.)
4. Devoting my life to cultivating authentic sisterhood at Living Stones: women redeemed by Jesus, healed by Jesus, believing more and more in Jesus, loving one another and leading one another to Jesus. 
5. Taking care of my body and soul; exercise, a balanced diet, intentionally resting/recharging and pursuing solitude before I seek destructive isolation and run from relationship and responsibility.
6. As much as I can, relieving the pastors of Living Stones of their 95% in order that they might be freed to pursue their 5%. Not because it's my job, but because I'm working unto the Lord.

After mapping out this 5%, I already feel more grounded, focused. I'm also aware of the fact that it could change at any moment... literally. "The heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps..." Proverbs 16:9

Thank God!

Here's the artwork for a stand-alone sermon on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Excited for Pastor Harvey and Pastor Kyle Bateson to bring the heat!

1 Corinthians: Dear Reno | Gospel Mission

For specs on the making of the graphics, comment or message me. And... if you can name all the icons in the collage... you will get a prize. Promise.

This month, we begin another leg in the trip through 1 Corinthians at Living Stones. We'll be tracking though a lot of tough passages, but--ultimately--what has struck me the most is the reminder that where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Cor. 3:17). We are free to behold him. We are free to approach him with unveiled face. We are free to display his glory before all men. This seems to be an overarching theme of the Lord's work in my personal life as well as in the lives of those I'm encountering; it is also a necessary hinge upon which gospel mission may move. I pray that we all will experience our freedom in Christ--casting off all that hinders the gospel from multiplying in our lives--as we continue on.

Old Souls

"Now when the builders had laid the foundation of the temple of the LORD, the priests stood in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites, the sons of Asaph, with cymbals, to praise the LORD according to the directions of King David of Israel. They sang, praising and giving thanks to the LORD, saying, 'For He is good, for His lovingkindness is upon Israel forever.' And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the LORD because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid. Yet many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers' households, the old men who had seen the first temple, wept with a loud voice when the foundation of this house was laid before their eyes, while many shouted aloud for joy, so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the shout of joy from the sound of the weeping of the people, for the people shouted with a loud shout, and the sound was heard far away." --Ezra 3:10-13

You don't have to scour retirement homes to find them. They may not be at the point where they need to 'Fixodent and forget it.' There is a group of delightful people in the world that are referred to as old souls. And, regardless of age, they offer a side of the story that needs to be told.

Ezra offered me this reminder this morning as I read the account of the foundation of the 2nd temple being laid. Understandably, this was a time of great rejoicing for God's people. This kind of redemption is certainly not something to be taken lightly. However, as the young bucks who labored over the temple celebrated with shouts of joy, some of the old-timers wept. There is much depth to this reaction, depth that I want to know.

For those old enough to remember (or wise enough to not forget), this moment was an unprecedented encounter with God's mercy. Memories of fish hooks, fire and famine suddenly gave way to redemption and rebuilding. God, by his grace, disciplined his people--and with that same grace, he brought them home. I can't help but imagine that every tear carried a certain measure of reverence. God could just as easily destroy this second foundation as he did the first in his fatherly, disciplinary love. He is sovereign in both his pardon and his wrath. These two realities working in tandem amount to an overwhelming response, to say the least. 

The passage goes on to describe how the sounds of rejoicing and the sounds of weeping married and were carried off in the distance. I am reminded of how we desperately need this balance. We need shouts of joy just as much as we need cries of sorrow. We need brokenness just as much as we need rebuilding. We need stories of victory just as much as we need cautionary tales. Why? Because the two combine and carry God's glory immeasurably further than one or the other could do on its own. The world needs to see and hear the whole story... not just one part. This is mirrored in the life of Jesus, who exemplified--in himself--perfect anguish and perfect victory. 

I long to tell both sides of the story in my own life... to be rid of cynicism enough to praise and rejoice like a child and filled with wisdom and depth of experience enough to weep when awestruck by God's glory.