scattered

I don’t think Jesus ever looked at life and death the way we do. He understands our viewpoint, but it was never his.

Jesus started the church with his own death, and kicked it as a fledgling from its Jerusalem nest with death of one of the saints. Acts 7:59-8:1 tells us: 

“While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he fell on his knees and cried out, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he fell asleep.

“And Saul approved of their killing him.

“On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria.”

We fear death perhaps more than anything else. We fight to prolong our lives; we see the death of others as a grim tragedy. And it is, but only for those who die without Jesus. Someone once said that, for the Christian, death is a punctuation mark but it isn’t a period. It’s a comma. It’s not the end, it’s a pause before continuing on.

Jesus conquered death, he tamed it, so that for those of us who know Jesus, death is a transition to something much better. And throughout the ages he has used the deaths of his people as another way to further the work of his kingdom. 

That’s another wonderful benefit of our salvation: our greatest enemy now serves Jesus just like we do, and it has no power to hurt us. Hallelujah! What a Savior!

To my readers,

I want to let you know that I'm taking a break from writing this blog. This summer I intend to focus on evaluating where and how I can best engage in ministry; maybe this blog will continue to be part of that and I'll start it again in the fall. Possibly some other opportunities will seem more appropriate.

Over the period that I've shared these thoughts a lot has changed in my life, in the church, and in the blogspace. The factors that led me to start have either changed or been addressed, and many other talented writers have come online with contributions at least as good as mine. 

For that small handful of you who have been with me from the beginning, well over a thousand posts ago, thanks for your commitment. For all of you who've taken some time to read (the most precious gift a writer can receive), you also have my appreciation. I never took your readership for granted. 

disgrace

It was a really bad couple of days. Jealous religious leaders had the apostles arrested and put in jail. When an angel sprung them, they went back to the temple, and then the furious leaders had them flogged. 

What do you do after a bad day? Eat a pint of Rocky Road? Pour a drink? Go shopping? Head for the gym? 

Here’s what the apostles did, in Acts 5:41: “The apostles left the Sanhedrin, rejoicing because they had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.”

Jailed and beaten, and they rejoice! And what a strange reason: they had been found worthy of not some great honor, but of suffering disgrace.

Here’s what the apostles knew that I forget: Jesus was disgraced and persecuted by people who opposed what he wanted to do in this world. It’s no honor when people who disdain our Lord want to applaud us. In fact, that’s a sign we’re in dangerous territory. 

Why, then, do we want so much to look like those people? Why do we dress like them and go to the same places and consume the same pop culture and laugh at the same jokes? Why do we want so badly to fit in with them?

Because standing out means we’ll be picked on. Persecuted. Disgraced. Exactly what the apostles rejoiced about.

selling land

One of the hard things about being part of a church, or a follower of Jesus, is understanding that it isn’t what we do that matters so much, but how and why we do it.

One choice the early church in Jerusalem made was to live in such close community that they shared everything, even their personal possessions - we read in Acts 4 that they had everything in common. That practice led to this series of events, reading from Acts 4:36-5:2: 

“Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means “son of encouragement”), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles’ feet.”

“Now a man named Ananias, together with his wife Sapphira, also sold a piece of property. With his wife’s full knowledge he kept back part of the money for himself, but brought the rest and put it at the apostles’ feet.”

Here’s the problem: Ananias and Sapphira, wanting to look as good as Joseph, claimed to donate the whole amount from their land sale. They lied. They didn’t have to; no one would have questioned their right to hold back some money. They wanted to because they wanted the acclaim. And if you read further, you see that God struck them both dead.

Two instances of selling land, two donations, but only one was obedient. It wasn’t what they did, it was how and why.

We need to remember that when we do our own version of selling land, that sacrificial thing that the church calls us to do. Maybe it’s pledging, maybe it’s working, maybe it’s a prayer vigil. Whatever it is, it doesn’t count as obedience unless we do it in the right way and for the right reasons. 

Unlike Ananias, we might be able to fool our fellow church members. But God will know.

teaching the people

It strikes me that the early church continued in a lot the same pattern that Jesus saw in his ministry.

This is what it says in Acts 4:1-4: “The priests and the captain of the temple guard and the Sadducees came up to Peter and John while they were speaking to the people. They were greatly disturbed because the apostles were teaching the people, proclaiming in Jesus the resurrection of the dead. They seized Peter and John and, because it was evening, they put them in jail until the next day. But many who heard the message believed; so the number of men who believed grew to about five thousand.”

Right before this, Peter and John healed a crippled man. That made people ask questions, and they took the opportunity to talk about Jesus. And people responded.

Sounds a lot like Jesus, doesn’t it? Jesus helped people, which made more people gather. Then he talked, and people believed. The religious leaders would get angry and plot against Jesus.

I have a couple of thoughts here. First, the church is at it’s best, and most effective, when it looks most like Jesus. He was our model for how his work should be done on earth, and we are his workmen saved and recruited to continue what he started - teaching the people.

Second, when we look like Jesus we will scare whoever is currently in power. After all, they like things just the way they are; right now, everything is going to their advantage. They aren’t looking for change; in fact, change is a threat. The status quo is familiar and comfortable. But Jesus is countercultural and revolutionary. He and his followers always bring change.

This is a cautionary tale for all of us. If we’re in church leadership, we have to be willing to move past what feels good to us to embrace the changes that come as Jesus’ kingdom moves forward; certainly we never want to find ourselves in the position of opposing those changes. If we not leaders, we should still be open to the ways the Gospel message is spreading to people not like us, and how that might result in church being different than it used to be.

At the end of the day, the people who benefit from the system will try to perpetuate it, and the ones who don’t will try to change it. At least that’s the way the world works. Jesus calls us to see beyond that, and to follow his lead regardless of benefit to ourselves.

times of refreshing

Relationships are hard. Even our closest ones have their ups and downs, and then we go through what I call the post-disagreement hangover, where both of you nurse your hurt feelings and tread carefully around the other for a couple hours or maybe a day. Significant relational breaches may require several days, or even a lifetime of atonement, to rebuild trust.

Thank God - literally - that the most precious relationship we have isn’t like that. Despite our hostility toward God and refusal to do what he wants, all we have to do is want the relationship. 

In Acts 3, Peter explains to a group of people that the man they persecuted and crucified was God’s son. And then he told them this, in verses17-20: “‘Now, fellow Israelites, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders. But this is how God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, saying that his Messiah would suffer. Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Messiah, who has been appointed for you—even Jesus.’”

Isn’t it amazing that even after the murder of his son, all God wanted was for the people to be sorry for their sins? That the only thing he required was that they repent and turn back to him? Do that, Peter says, and you sins will be wiped out - gone, as if they’d never happened. You’ll be free of the guilt, with no need to try to work through the paybacks before you can enjoy each other’s company again.

More than that, Peter says God wants to do something else for us. He wants to recharge our batteries; God will send times of refreshing. God knows our lives intimately, and he knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows that even the good things in life can take their toll. We spend ourselves on our jobs and our church work and our families, and then on top of it life hits us with stuff we just have to gut through. When we use ourselves up, God will be there to pour back into us everything we poured out for other people. 

Freedom from guilt and a never-ending source of rest and energy to do good. That’s a lot from a relationship, but Peter noted a third thing. There’s this little detail of Jesus, the Messiah, Lord of our life now and the Redeemer who paid for it all and who will return for us all.

It hardly seems possible, does it. For such a little bit from us - say we’re sorry and mean in - God wipes out all our sin and guilt and refreshes us as fast as life takes it out of us.That’s the earthly reality of living as saved followers of Jesus.

even better

At work we use a simple measurement of success: customer delight. Satisfaction is what happens when we get exactly what we expected. Delight is an emotion we feel when we get something even better. 

This morning, reading in Acts 3:1-6, I read something that to me communicated the different perfectly: 

“One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer—at three in the afternoon. Now a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, ‘Look at us!’ So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them.

“Then Peter said, ‘Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.’

“Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and jumping, and praising God.”

Here’s a crippled man whose daily existence was pretty much the same: either at the temple or some other crowded place, he begged. He sat there all day long, pleading for a few pennies here and maybe some dimes there. When Peter and John walked by, that’s exactly what expected. He would have been satisfied with a few coins.

But he got something even better. For the first time in his life, he could walk! Not only that, he could jump, and he did. He followed them into the temple leaping and praising God.

It reminds me that God wants to do more than just satisfy us; he wants us to delight in him. We have things we want in life, usually having to do with money and stuff, but what he gives us is even better. He showers us with truly good things so that, like the crippled man, we’re so amazed and pleased that we cavort like young horses and sing like canaries.

At least, that’s what we ought to be doing. If we’re not, we’re probably not seeing God at work.

pot luck

One of the challenges of a career in business is eating well. There are often snacks in meetings and birthday treats in the break room. A lot of business is conducted over lunch, and spending time on the road means eating in restaurants. For a guy my age whose metabolism can only handle so many calories, it’s a challenge.

Church isn’t always a lot better. Anything special at a service is celebrated with cookies, bars or a pot luck. 

I used to resent that. Between work and church, losing weight or keeping it off sometimes seems impossible - you can out-eat even the best workout. But this, morning, reading about the early church in Acts 2, I was struck by what it says in verse 42: “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.”

Isn’t it interesting that fellowship and sharing meals is noted alongside learning from the apostles and prayer as focuses of that first congregation? Could it be that when we share the wonderful blessing of good food, we share something more? The time we put into preparing and conversing, when we do it cheerfully and with loving hearts, in some way knits our churches together, it seems.

One of our previous pastors used to say, “Food is fellowship.” I think he was onto something. Maybe our pot lucks are as important to the health of the church as other disciplines.

repent and be baptized

The first evangelism event in history was spontaneous, and it didn’t end up the way you might have expected. With the Holy Spirit fresh on them at Pentecost, the disciples proclaimed the great good news of Jesus, and that God had revealed this crucified man to be the Messiah they’d waited for. Here’s what happened next, in Acts 2:37-38:

“When the people heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and the other apostles, ‘Brothers, what shall we do?’

“Peter replied, ‘Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.’”

I’m sure that’s not what the people expected. I’m sure they thought they’d have to atone somehow, or do some arduous thing to demonstrate their remorse and prove their value. If they were at all like us, they wanted an assignment. We would want taskers, a list we could work through with an end in sight. Make it easy, like Saturday’s chore list, or hard, like getting through college. Just tell us what the requirement is so we can knuckle down and grind our way through it.

But although we like measurable requirements we can check off, like 10% of your earnings as tithe or 20 minutes of devotions every day, that’s not how salvation works. When the crowds asked Peter what to do, he simply said, “Repent and be baptized.”

Repenting is hard, because it’s a heart attitude and not an action. It takes constant attention to be sure we’re really remorseful for the bad things we do. And baptism is a statement of trust, that someone else will take care of this for us. This, like so many things having to do with God, is simple to understand and dismaying to contemplate. For the broken-hearted and beaten-down, this simplicity is welcome good news. For those of us who are confident in our performance thus far, the dismay comes in the change we’ll have to make inside.

Confronted with the truth about Jesus, as those people were, we end up asking the same thing: what should we do? If we ask, we’re going to get the same answer the got, Peter’s simple-yet-nearly-impossible two-step plan. But it’s our only hope.

God with us

I wonder, when the Spirit came on Old Testament characters like Samson or David, was there noise and flame? That’s what happened when the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost; here’s that event as described in Acts 2:1-4:

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them.”

Probably if there was a loud, wind-like noise and burning fire when Samson was filled with the Spirit, scripture would say so. And Pentecost was different; this was when the Spirit came and stayed for good. Jesus’ disciples, and Christians today, have permanently what Old Testament heroes only got occasionally. The Spirit is always with us.

This is a gift of Jesus, promised to his disciples when he was still on earth, and that suggests that in some way we need first to know Jesus before we can understand, or maybe even handle, the presence of the Holy Spirit. Or maybe people didn’t need the Spirit as much before Jesus; Jesus revealed so much about God in his life and by his teaching that possibly the ongoing presence of the Spirit became necessary for Christians to digest and understand it all.

One thing seems to be constant, though: when the Spirit comes, it brings with it amazing powers. Samson tore out city gates and toppled statues, while the disciples spoke in tongues. Later Christians would manifest other spiritual gifts. And all of us are enabled to see and understand a spiritual side to life that’s invisible, or at least badly understood, by anyone else.

God entered into a relationship with his people from the beginning, openly at first as he walked with Adam and then selectively, with men like Moses and Abraham, after the fall. Jesus came generations later and lived among humans for several decades before taking up his Lordship of the Universe. And then the third figure of the Trinity arrived at Pentecost. In this way, the promise of Isaiah’s prophecy, fulfilled at Christmas, came to full fruition at Pentecost.

Now God is truly with us, completely and always and in all of his persons.

deliverables

It’s kind of ironic that in the end, the very last question the disciples had for Jesus was the same expectation the Jewish religious leaders had. Here it is, in Acts 1:6-9:

“Then they gathered around him and asked him, ‘Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?’
“He said to them: ‘It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’
“After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight.”

The disciples wanted to know: when do we win? They didn’t like not knowing. We want the same certainty. They, and we as a centuries-later extension of their work, don’t like the idea that we’re working toward something we can’t see. If we don’t know what the end state looks like or when it will arrive, how do we know how well we’re doing? How do we know how much work is done and how much is left? What are the measurables?

Should we read anything into the fact that there aren’t any of what business calls deliverables to the mission Jesus gave us? I think so. I think Jesus wants us to simply live faithful lives doing the best we can every day. If we had measurable milestones, we’d apply the same competitive spirit (and maybe willingness to cheat) that we do to our sports and our businesses. Human nature is to run over people to get ahead, or at least get the job done. Jesus’ work isn’t like that at all.

That’s a challenge for me, because I’ve been a goal setter and milestone measurer all my life. Leaving all that to Jesus and just doing what’s in front of me will take some faith. But Jesus and his mission is all about faith.

what about him?

Comparing yourself to someone else has been described as a cancer on the soul. I think that’s a helpful analogy because measuring ourselves against others metastasizes our usual motivations into pride or jealousy. But it’s natural, even for God’s people.

John 21 tells of when Jesus found his disciples back in Galilee, at work fishing. He coached them to one of the biggest catches they’ve ever had, and then took a walk with Peter. He and Peter had some unfinished business, a matter of a promise that Peter went back on and the three denials of Jesus he made on the night Jesus was arrested.

Then, after being forgiven and affirmed in his role as a church leader, and despite all this personal attention from Jesus, Peter did this, in verses 20-22: 

“Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, ‘Lord, who is going to betray you?’) When Peter saw him, he asked, ‘Lord, what about him?’

“Jesus answered, ‘If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.’”

The disciples had previously demonstrated how conscious they were of rank, and how badly they wanted to stand above each other. When Peter looks at a man who could be a rival and asks, “What about him?”, Jesus answer is one that we all need to take to heart: “What is that to you?”

Some of us are going to have public, visible ministries; we’ll be well know in our churches and communities. Others serve one-on-one with visits and gifts of food, or even in silent solitude as staunch prayer warriors. We want to rank ourselves and our service, but this passage suggests to me that Jesus wouldn’t approve. How we relate to Jesus and what he calls us to do is very intimate and personal; it’s not anyone else’s business. 

I think Jesus wants us to compare ourselves only to him; he should be the only one we try to please and his life on earth should be the only standard we’re trying to measure up against. And compared to Jesus, we’re all pretty much alike anyway. The only thing we have to brag about is our association with him. 

open minds

When Jesus revealed himself to his disciples after Easter, there was an interchange that never really struck me before. I read it this morning, in Luke 24:44-45: 

“He said to them, ‘This is what I told you while I was still with you: Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms.’

“Then he opened their minds so they could understand the Scriptures.”

Ever wonder why the disciples were so baffled by Jesus’ arrest and execution? After all, they knew the prophesies, and Jesus warned them what was coming.

It seems to me that the disciples didn’t get it before was because the Bible, especially the Old Testament, can’t make sense outside of the sacrifice of Jesus. If you take away what Jesus did when he lived on earth as a man, the Bible is a weird mix of strange old stories, dusty archaeological facts, and obscure prophecies. Once we know about Easter, then the story of Ruth and Boaz, the consistency of God’s character as revealed in the Old Testament Law, and the strange things Isaiah and Jeremiah said all fall into place, pieces of a giant, generations-long foretelling of the thing our children’s Bible calls God’s Great Rescue Plan.

But there’s one more thing we need in addition to knowledge of what’s told in the Gospels. The disciples still didn’t get it until Jesus opened their minds, and we won’t either. That’s why Jesus sent the Advocate, the Holy Spirit. Without the understanding the Spirit gives, we can never achieve heart knowledge of the Scriptures.

It’s a reminder to look at all of the Bible, and all of life, through the lens of Jesus’ sacrifice. And it’s a reminder to always lean on the Holy Spirit to understand. Anything else gives at best an illusion of understanding, a partial knowledge. More likely, it will all just seem like nonsense.

Christians should be the most open-minded people in the world, but we should approach every confusing question, every challenging event, and every new person with a mind opened not to any and every worldly idea, but to a complete understanding of the Scripture. And for that, we need both to know the Scripture and to be closely connected to God.

expectations

It’s easy to become a prisoner of your own expectations; we see what we think we’ll see and we find what we set out looking for. Sometimes, that makes us miss a fantastic truth, something new and compelling that wasn’t what we expected.

Two men walking to Emmaus had that happen to them. Here’s what happened after Jesus joined them, from Luke 24:17-21: 

“He asked them, ‘What are you discussing together as you walk along?’

“They stood still, their faces downcast. One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, ‘Are you the only one visiting Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?’

“‘What things?’ he asked.

“‘About Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied. ‘He was a prophet, powerful in word and deed before God and all the people. The chief priests and our rulers handed him over to be sentenced to death, and they crucified him; but we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.’”

What those two men saw was a limited truth. Jesus was an amazing prophet, one who came and spoke the words of God’s revelation to his people. And they had a reasonable hope, for redemption. But they expected redemption to look a specific way - they probably thought it would involve the Romans being ousted and a return to Jewish rule of the Jews - so they missed the greater truth of what really happened and who Jesus really was.

Looking to intently at worldly politics, they missed the oppression of sin and guilt. Wanting so badly to have another David, a Jewish general/king who would lead them back to greatness, they never expected a new hope for the whole world. 

What are we looking for from Jesus? Do we want big churches, with the latest in technology, the largest Sunday attendance, and the most flavors at the coffee bar? Do we want health and wealth and blessings in life? If that’s what we’re looking for, how easily we overlook the infinite value of a Savior who digs into our hearts and roots out all the things that are killing us, one painful surgery at a time. We’ll never appreciate the removal of guilt if we didn’t want it in the first place.

We find the truth about Jesus the same place the men from Emmaus did: in the revelation of God himself. That’s the best place to go to start looking for the right things.

normal life

Holy Week is over. The sad services of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday, the melancholy introspection of Saturday were flooded away by the great good news of Easter Sunday. In addition to some great worship, there was a lot of good fellowship and maybe too much food. But now it’s done for another year. We’re back to normal life.

That gave me a little insight into a minor question this morning, as I read this from Mark 20:6-7: “‘Don’t be alarmed,’ he said. ‘You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.”’”

I’ve sometimes wondered why Jesus sent his disciples to Galilee. Why not just meet them somewhere in Jerusalem, where they already were? Why not save them the steps; after all, the new church would start to grow in the capitol city?

Today it looks to me like Jesus is sending them back to their normal lives, in a way. No, he didn’t intend for them to go back to fishing, but Galilee was where they lived when it all started. Galilee was where he called them away from their occupations and led them on a revolutionary course of discipleship that was never intended to be an actual revolution. Jesus disappointed so many people with his death, which seemed fruitless because it didn’t result in political regime change.

Now Jesus intended to show his resurrected self, the first fruit of his sacrifice, to his most intimate followers back in the place they lived before they were disciples. 

Could it be that this is his reminder that this was a new beginning, that life without the man Jesus - normal life - was going in fact to be life continuously with Jesus? That moving on from his death was going to involve a greater commitment of their lives than they had made so far? That normal life wasn’t the old life; there was a new normal that would focus them like nothing before?

As we get back to our normal lives, it’s a good reminder. There really isn’t anything normal about a life lived for Jesus. 

fake news

I sit this morning with two thoughts. First, after an amazing Easter Sunday, I’m blown away once again by what Jesus did and how much God loves us. Second, after reading some of the mockery of atheists and humanists what they call the superstition of Easter, and seeing all the bunnies and little chicks, I’m sad that so any refuse to believe.

The chief priests, willing tools of Satan, were the original naysayers. They were the first to call the resurrection fake news. Here’s Matthew’s retelling in Matthew 28:11-15: 

“While the women were on their way, some of the guards went into the city and reported to the chief priests everything that had happened. When the chief priests had met with the elders and devised a plan, they gave the soldiers a large sum of money, telling them, ‘You are to say, “His disciples came during the night and stole him away while we were asleep.” If this report gets to the governor, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.’ So the soldiers took the money and did as they were instructed. And this story has been widely circulated among the Jews to this very day.”

Traditional Jews still don’t believe Jesus was Messiah. Dozens of other faiths hold up their own depiction of God, but not one of the sacrificing Savior. And post-Christian nations like most in the west have moved on from the faith of their fathers and mothers. From the very beginning, the ancient devil began practicing the art of disinformation; we think it came with the internet, but it’s been around forever. Why do you think he’s known as the Father of Lies.

This is the weekend of Christianity’s greatest triumph, the time we remember the ultimate display of love, and we walk away determined to make our lives worthy of the sacrifice. And today I’m convicted that the best way to do that is to love and tell the truth. Habitual liars aren’t God’s people; that’s one of the first marks of the ones who believed Satan’s fake news.

the torn curtain

A lot of strange things happened when Jesus died, and they all tell us something. But the thing that strikes the deepest for me is the tearing of the temple curtain. Here’s how Luke relates it, Luke 23:44-46: 

“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.”

I was always taught that the temple curtain referred to here was the one that separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the temple. The Holy of Holies was that place where the Ark of the Covenant was kept, a place that only one priest could enter only once a year. The place where God made himself present among the Jews.

With Jesus’ death, that barrier was now gone. The Jews didn’t know it yet, but the limitations on approaching God were gone too. Jesus had done what he came for; he paid the awful debt that humans owed God. He took care of the thing that kept us from God; he mended the broken relationship so that now we can freely go to God whenever we want.

Here’s the problem: sometimes we go a long time without going to God. What a shameful squandering of the greatest gift of the cross.

King of the Jews

In the end, the chief priests did what Herod couldn't do: they killed Jesus. In the name of their religion, which by that time was more about political power and nit-picky rules than about grace, they nailed an innocent man to a cross. And even as he died, they couldn't leave him alone.

John 19:19-22 tells us: “Pilate had a notice prepared and fastened to the cross. It read: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. Many of the Jews read this sign, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek. The chief priests of the Jews protested to Pilate, 'Do not write "The King of the Jews," but that this man claimed to be king of the Jews.'

"Pilate answered, 'What I have written, I have written.'”

Here's the thing, though: they didn't get to decide. The chief priests were trying to manage the message, but their opinion counted for nothing. Pilate was trying to control the situation, but maybe saw closer to the truth than the Jews. Or maybe it was a tactic. But Jesus was who he was and whatever they thought made no difference. His death was necessary and it would prevail over everything evil.

We don’t get to decide either. We can make our choices and mouth our platitudes; we can make our Holy Week observances and then go back to our normal life on Monday. Whether that life acknowledges Jesus as lord or focuses on building an earthly empire doesn’t change who Jesus is. It just changes who we are.

He was the King of the Jews and is the Lord of all things. But not because of anything we say or do. Praise the lord, he rules. We follow, or we’ll be on the wrong side in the end.

no justice

The people didn’t care. Incited by the chief priests, they just wanted Jesus dead.

Pilate didn’t care. He just wanted peace; he was trying to avert a riot.

Here’s the story, in Mark 15; Pilate offers to release either Jesus or the murderer Barabas and the crowd chooses the murderer. Then this, from verses 12-15: 

“‘What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?’ Pilate asked them.

“‘Crucify him!’ they shouted.

“‘Why? What crime has he committed?’ asked Pilate.

“But they shouted all the louder, ‘Crucify him!’

“Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.”

No crime, not the slightest shred of evidence. Just a day awash in hatred and rage. Justice would have seen Jesus released and Barabas executed. Justice would have recognized Jesus as the legitimate king of the Jews. But in that city at that time, there was no justice.

And the chief beneficiary was us. Because justice would have seen Jesus released and us executed.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

nothing in secret

Jesus’ trial is kind of like the anti-police procedural. You know those shows like CSI and Criminal Minds, the ones where the authorities try to piece together what happened? In Jesus’ case, there was no question about what took place. 

Look at this part of his trial, as told in John 18:19-24: 

“Meanwhile, the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching.

“‘I have spoken openly to the world,’ Jesus replied. ‘I always taught in synagogues or at the temple, where all the Jews come together. I said nothing in secret. Why question me? Ask those who heard me. Surely they know what I said.’

“When Jesus said this, one of the officials nearby slapped him in the face. ‘Is this the way you answer the high priest?’ he demanded.

“‘If I said something wrong,’ Jesus replied, ‘testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?’ Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.”

Jesus rightly pointed out that he’d done his teaching out in the open, in the public square. In fact, much of it had been done in the temple. It’s striking that the high priest had never bothered to listen to Jesus himself. It’s even more extraordinary that he didn’t know what Jesus actually taught. He seemed to be questioning Jesus in the hope that something heretical would pop out.

But Jesus did nothing in secret. Everything was right there; nothing was hidden. And, for the first time in this story Jesus was sent on to a higher authority when his interrogator found nothing to accuse him with.

Jesus was so obviously innocent that it seems incredible that he was actually held, much less tried, convicted and executed. It seems like even the most basic effort might have won his freedom. But then, Jesus didn’t want his freedom. He wanted to die; in fact, for the plan to work, he had to die.

It’s amazing, isn’t it? All the evidence is out in the open but the prosecutor doesn’t know; the accused is innocent but won’t free himself. And the guilty - us- who are never put on trial are exonerated and put back on the streets.

It’s the weirdest trial ever.