Rejoice! Again I Say Rejoice!

It is almost Easter. It tops my list of Christian holidays. No other holidays compare, not even Christmas. There are scores of celebrations around Christmas, but so few around Easter. Egg hunts and Palm Sunday.  No decorations or a gazillion hymns and songs. While there are hymns and Easter lilies celebrating Easter, it’s just not as many and I have to wonder why.

What sets Easter apart is Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. There were no wise men bringing gifts, no star marking Bethlehem. No angels praising God and awed shepherds spreading the good news. I am not saying Christmas isn’t important, because the incarnation of the Holy Son of God stooping to become a man is miraculous and worthy of celebration. But Easter is the culmination of his life and ministry. It is a miracle above all else. The God Man rising from the grave, bringing eternal hope and life to all who believe. And that hope can embrace all humanity if people will only believe in Jesus, his death and resurrection.

Every time we partake of communion, we celebrate the death of Jesus and in that act we are endued anew with the presence of the Holy Spirit whose mission is to dwell in our hearts and make the teachings of Jesus known, to ourselves and to those to whom we carry the message. All because of Easter.

Remembering the night of the last supper and the betrayal of our Lord is part of the essential belief in the resurrection. We cannot fully grasp the turmoil and struggle of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, praying so fervently that his sweat became drops of blood. And all the while the disciples slept. His close friends he shared all with for three years. Oblivious to the danger and all Jesus had revealed to them about his impending death, they slept right up to the betraying kiss. Peter only added to the betrayal of Judas when he denied Jesus three times while Jesus was beaten and interrogated. Mocked, scorned and scourged by his own people and the Gentiles.

The final steps of Jesus were painful beyond comprehension. The nails driven into his hands and feet are too much to bear. I often wonder how much grief was gripping Mary’s heart as she saw her first born, her baby in such agony, knowing there was only death for relief. The mocking was relentless. Even a thief crucified with him joined in the hatred. And on that day God turned his face away and left Jesus to suffer on his own, bearing the weight of the combined sins of all  humanity, past, present and future, and in doing so the sin of the world was forever canceled. The mocking Lucifer was silenced and his dominion on earth was wrested away. 

Lest the terrible days leading up to the crucifixion leave hopeless all who mourn then and now, the plan that was incomplete, the battered and suffering Savior dead and buried, was made complete.  The resurrection from death and the grave overturned all. In the instant Jesus was reincarnated all was made new. Everything was made complete and the hope of all people throughout history was fulfilled. Death was overcome and the door to God’s awesome presence was flung open. For all who believe death no longer stings, no longer brings fear and is no longer the end of life. As Jesus cried out from the cross, it is finished.

He is risen! He is risen indeed!

The Clothing of Christ

Today is a good day. The sun is out, it’s warm and I feel like I am in a better place than I have been for a long time. But I admit to some fear that it is only the eye of the storm I have been caught in for some time. It is terrible thing to not be able to enjoy the present, a gift, because of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone has been in this place. It is for many a roadblock to experiencing the fullness of joy. And when I say many, I include myself.

There is grief in our world. It is a part of human existence, and no one escapes the ravages of loss in life whether it be death of a loved one, loss of a job, loss of health or any number of causes that lead to brokenness. And sometimes that grief hangs on us like an old smelly overcoat we wear everywhere we go. It becomes a part of us and we shuffle through our days with it dragging us down by its weight. It’s what we wear and by extension, it defines who we are.

The fact is we are incapable of shedding the coat that clings to us without the help of other believers who act on behalf of Christ. The Holy Spirit enables us through them to cast aside the cloak that has perpetuated our brokenness. But it is not enough to shake it off. We must replace it with new clothing. We must clothe ourselves with Christ (Gal. 3:27) and clothe ourselves in love (Col. 3:14). 1 Peter 5:5 says we are to clothe ourselves in humility.

But that is not all. Ephesians 6:13 says we must take up the full armor of God so we may be able to stand firm. Verses 14-17 describe what that armor consists of: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, the word of God. And it all starts with shedding the coat of sorrows and brokenness.

If it were easily achieved, we would have no need for the fellowship of believers and of Christ. We would be autonomous, but that is not how it works. To clothe ourselves with humility is the only way to wholeness. Humility says I hurt. I need your love, grace and support. We will never be totally free from the burdens that weigh us down in this life, but it is possible to gain more joy in the journey. God seeks to instill his joy in the hearts and minds of those who come in humility seeking his face.

I am broken. I have suffered greatly from my past sins and my current burdens, but I do not suffer from terminal uniqueness. We all are broken in some way. No one escapes grief. We must bring them to the suffering and broken Christ who paid all for us. In doing so we are clothed with the triumphant Christ who makes all things new. We are invited to sit at the table of mercy and the celebration of what is to come. We long for the day when all suffering is swept away and joy is made complete.

Lord, hasten the day.

Hope in the Hopeless

It has been a very long time since I last posted to my blog. Much has happened in that time. It’s been difficult to write anything. Life has been, well, life. Nowhere are Christians exempt from the trials and buffeting of events that can leave us reeling, and I have been reeling for months.

Everything began to unravel in August of 2014. I was hospitalized for severe depression. I was in for several days until they thought I was stable again. Then again in December I was hospitalized due to what appeared to be mania. I was in for days until I appeared stable. Then in January, I was hospitalized for six days because I had become psychotic. The frightening thing about the hospitalizations is I have absolutely no memory of them. I have no memory of having a car accident while I was psychotic leading to my third time in the hospital. I have no memory of my breakdown at work for which I was sent home for extreme paranoia and hallucinations. It is all a blank.

Now my job is in jeopardy. I am off on unpaid leave for a minimum of eight weeks and a maximum of nineteen weeks. I took the leave hoping to salvage my job. I have complete short term memory loss, difficulty concentrating and am suffering from a sense of hopelessness about saving my job of eleven years. Several more months of working and  I will have much better retirement benefits, but I will only have ten days when I go back to show my boss I can still do my job. It’s as though life has conspired to beat me into the dust.

I pray. I pray a lot about being able to save my job. If I cannot demonstrate ability to do the job I have done for years I will be summarily fired. That’s it. No grace. Ten days. There have been many changes since I took off and I will have to learn new procedures as well as do what I was able to do before my mental breakdown. It isn't  much time to pull it together. It’s hard to not feel hopeless. It really is.

So, you the reader, may be asking the same question I am: Why? Maybe not. Maybe everyone else can see what’s going on and just I am in the dark. I really don’t know why God has led me down this road. Yes, some may say it’s to make me stronger or bring me to my knees with nothing left of myself so God can fill me up; my bipolar disorder is a cross to bear. None of those are very comforting. It’s like telling parents burying a child that at least they have more. Cold comfort and certainly not Holy Spirit inspired. It only kicks them cruelly while they are down.

No one suffering deserves platitudes. I have to wonder how many times I have tossed a platitude at someone suffering like a dry bone offered to the starving. I ashamed to think how many times I probably have done so. God forgive me. I am not looking for great words of wisdom. I fear at this point they would fall on deaf ears. I am like a person on a ship tossed about by tempestuous waves and cannot gain a firm stance. The only thing keeping me from being washed over into the sea is a tether tied to the mast.

Will I lose all sanity? Am I going to be in and out of institutions the rest of my life? Those questions are continually careening around my mind. I have no answers. I am not sure I will get answers.

The only glimmer of hope I have is the tether tied to the mast. I know I didn't tie it and I can only hope the mast holds. If I may be excused in making an analogy, the tether had to have been tied by Jesus. The tether is the Holy Spirit, and the mast the Father. It’s the only thing that makes any sense in my senseless mind. I cannot hold on. I just can’t. But the tether is keeping me, it’s holding onto me. In my utter weakness I am not going to sink into the unreachable and unfathomable depths that never give back what has been washed overboard.

 I feel lost, but Psalm 139 says, “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, your right hand shall hold me fast. If I say, ‘Surely darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,’ even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is light to you.”

This alone is my only hope. What is weakness in me is strength in the Lord. My boss and the rest of the world may write me off as a mental case, but somehow God will keep me alive. I don’t know how, but somehow, he will make it happen.