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Tetelestai

 

Last Saturday was a relatively warm day. It wasn’t blistering hot, but it was warm enough. My yard was beginning to look like the beginnings of a Old Fort rainforest. It needed mowing, badly. So, I roared up my lawn mower and went to work. After I was finished mowing, I went back and took a weed eater and cut in the edges. After it was done, I sat down on my front porch and just looked at it. Proud of my accomplishment and hard work my wife even acknowledged the freshly bladed grass.

As you are reading this, and in spite of that great hard work, something is coming tomorrow. I have to mow again. The job was done temporarily. Really just delayed until the next growth.

Now lets switch gears, and talk about the title of this post which you are probably wondering about. Tetelestai is a Greek word. This is one of the words Jesus used on the cross. It means “it is finished.”

What was finished?

John Stott gives great insight about this:

Being in the perfect tense, it means “it has been and will for ever remain finished.” We note the achievement Jesus claimed just before he died. It is not men who finished their brutal deed; it is he who has accomplished what he came into the world to do. He has borne the sins of the world. Deliberately, freely and in perfect love he has endured the judgment in our place. He has procured salvation for us, established a new covenant between God and humankind, and made available the chief covenant blessing, the forgiveness of sins. At once the curtain of the temple, which for centuries had symbolized the alienation of sinners from God, was torn in two from top to bottom, in order to demonstrate that the sin barrier had been thrown down by God and the way into his presence opened.

John Stott, The Cross of Christ

The work of man does not last. It is temporary. The work of Jesus Christ lasts forever. The  video at the bottom of the page is the music video for Matt Papa’s song “It Is Finished.” Most of the footage comes from the movie “The Passion of the Christ.”

I just rewatched it, and I’m crying. I am reminded of what his work demanded of him. What the will of God demanded of him. I am reminded that my sin was placed squarely on his shoulders as he carried it to the cross.

My punishment delivered to a sinless king.

Here on Good Friday, let us remember the cross…but Sunday’s coming.

I Thirst

by Mandi Pittman, Director of Outreach

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After this, Jesus, knowing all that was now finished, said (to fulfill the scripture), “I thirst.” (John 19:28, ESV)

“I thirst”, two small words that totally show Jesus’ humanity. He had endured a trial before Pilate and His accusers, had been beaten by soldiers and then nailed to a cross. These events all took place in a single day. Now, hanging on the cross for six hours you finally hear his cry of distress. He felt the moment of exhaustion and dehydration, fulfilling the words written almost a thousand years earlier:  “My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws, you lay me in the dust of death.” (Psalm 22:15, ESV)

Jesus had fought our battle, taken on our sin and shame before he ever thought of Himself. He made sure scripture had been fulfilled and He had accomplished His purpose before saying, “I thirst.” We see this from two different vantage points: a physical thirst and a spiritual thirst. Not only was Jesus physically thirsty, he also craved to be one with His Father again! He was thirsty for the only thing that could quench that deep thirst… reconciliation with the Father.

Jesus knew his suffering had a purpose, and He submitted to it. The writer of Hebrews says that, “For the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross, disregarding its shame.” (Hebrews 12:2) What good came out of it! Our very salvation!

When so many things in your life are not being satisfied because they are suddenly denied, even outlawed, allow this to reveal your thirst for God. We can rest in His peace, protection and strength. He gives living water from which we will never thirst again!

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

by Christina Redman

Jesus’ fourth saying from the cross came at the 9th hour and darkness had filled the land since the 6th hour. It had been dark from noon until 3pm. Jesus cried out, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

This question has stumped many over the years. Why would Jesus ask this question even though He knew this was God’s plan all along? He also knew that He would be raised on the third day. He knew how this would all end yet He still cried out to the Father, “Why have you forsaken me?”

Jesus is quoting Psalm 22:1, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?” Here David is crying out to God. Today that might sound more like, “God where are you? Why have you left me?”

Jesus cries out because He was truly forsaken. He was bearing the weight of the sin of the world, the weight of my sin, and the weight of yours. Not only was experiencing separation and abandonment from the Father, but He was experiencing the full wrath of God. It wasn’t just the nails of the pain of the cross that caused Him agony, His deepest agony was caused by experiencing the wrath of God.

His cry is more an expression of his anguish than an actual question. He knew this was the plan all along. He knew what would happen, but still He cried out to His Dad. He asked a question and expressed what He was feeling.

So often we don’t express what we’re really feeling to the Father because, “We should know better.” Our faith should be stronger, and we feel shame over our thoughts and feelings. We see the other Christians posting inspiring quotes and passages on Facebook and we waver. We know in our mind Romans 8:28, “that for those who love God all things work together for good,” but the things we’re living with are hard, our hearts are in anguish, and we may even wonder where God is in the middle of it all. Broken marriages are hard, depression is hard, abuse is hard, COVID-19 is hard, isolation is hard, death is hard, loss is hard.

But our hope is in a Savior who has felt what we’ve felt. 

Jesus was forsaken so we wouldn’t have to be. Jesus asked the hard questions, so we can ask the hard questions.

I pray in this Holy Week that we meet with Him, that we draw near to our suffering Savior, and ask the hard questions. 

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.” – Hebrews 4:15

He already knows our thoughts, and the cries of our heart, and He is a loving Father who wants to hear from His kids.

Woman, Behold your Son

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Photo by Andrae Ricketts on Unsplash

By Leslie Hester, Preschool Ministry Director

As a mother you spend years not only protecting your children, but also wondering if everything you are doing will help them become the person they are meant to be. You spend long nights praying for their future and hoping the help and advice you’ve given will be enough. As they grow you look back at “the hard years” thinking they were never going to end but they seemed to have passed little by little. You realize that those sleepless nights, when you and your baby are alone–you holding them, rocking them, are irretrievable. You will never get them back.

As they grow into school age years one day you wake up and realize they don’t need your help getting ready because they have gotten ready without you. Oh you would never dress them like that, but you’re proud of their independent spirit! Then you think to yourself, “If I could have just one more opportunity to help them; to tie their shoe, fix their lunches.”

Fast forward to the teenage years, you argue as they begin to grow into their own person and you wonder if you will both survive. Despite all of those disagreements and not seeing eye to eye as they leave your home, you often long wrap your arms around them and protect them from hurt while at the same time wonder if you have done enough to prepare them for what is to come. You think to yourself, “If I could just hold them one more time.”

Now put yourself in Mary’s shoes.  From the time she found out she was going to have a baby, she knew he was to be great and that he would be the savior of the world. She knew from her conversation with the angel in Luke that he would be great despite the mistakes all parents make… I mean they did leave him at the temple only to go back and find him not scared and looking for them but teaching. Although Mary was worried, she knew this was all part of what the angel had told her. In Luke 2:51 we are told that “she treasured all these things in her heart.

Fast forward to where Jesus is grown and starts performing miracles. If you’re a parent, you know how proud Mary must have felt, not in a prideful way but a “that’s my boy way” as he ministered to people through his healing and teaching. Then everything changes. The crowds who once followed him turned on him. The ones who shouted Hosanna now shout “crucify him!” Mary’s son is beaten, mocked and crucified.

She is there through all of it. Does she longingly reflect on memories of his childhood, teen years (yes, Jesus was a teenager!), and his young adulthood? Regardless of our temptation to dehumanize Jesus, he was the son of a mother who loved him deeply and cared for him compassionately.

On the cross, all that changed. She couldn’t stop this. Jesus was dying for her! Her son was also her Savior. Her once newborn would now give her new life. The one who depended on her for food and a roof over his head would become for her the bread of life and go to prepare a place for her. Everything changed. Everything.

In the middle of the greatest and most awful moment in human history, Jesus remembered her. Dying for the sins of humanity (and Mary’s too), Jesus made sure she would now have a roof over her head and food on her plate. Looking at his best friend, John, he said, “Woman, behold your son.” In other words, Mary, John will take care of you now. 

What humanity and divinity–Jesus, the God-man dying for Mary his mother.

Woman, behold your son.

Today You Will Be With Me In Paradise

mateus-campos-felipe-E9OVvWeHH5o-unsplashDo you know the most compelling evidence to me of who we are in Christ? He is unnamed. We’re not exactly sure the crime he committed. We just know that it wasn’t by accident that he was scheduled to be executed the same day Jesus was crucified. Most executions were not attended by crowds. Most crucifixions didn’t cause a stir. For this unnamed criminal, his most embarrassing moment became his most exhilarating. His most confining moment became his most liberating. He was crucified…and rightly so. He was guilty of crimes.

Jesus was crucified right beside him…and for no good reason. He was falsely accused.

This unnamed criminal, hanging naked, bleeding, writhing in pain on the cross, saw something in Jesus that the Romans soldiers refused to see. He saw something in Jesus that the Jewish leaders refused to see. He saw something in Jesus that the other thief refused to see. He also saw his sinful self.

Do you know what happened? That day, the naked, destitute, friendless, guilty criminal became a saint. What grace from the cross when Jesus said, “Today you will be with me in paradise.” He had no time to join the church, no time to mend fences, no time to make restitution. He didn’t have to. He was crucified with Jesus…literally…and he was crucified with Jesus spiritually. He had a new relationship.

From criminal to citizen. From outcast to insider. From a thief to a saint. In just one moment.

If you have trusted Christ as your Savior, that’s what happened to you.

I know. It’s scandalous.

Grace is.

 

Father Forgive Them

This week the blog will focus on six hours one Friday–that fateful Friday when Jesus hung on a cross, suspended between heaven and earth, between God and us, dying for our sins. In those hours, Jesus made seven statements. We all lean in to hear what someone has to say in their dying hours. Thankfully, the gospel writers recorded Jesus’ last words.

Father forgive them because they don’t know what they are doing. 

Ben Poteat and David Grindstaff wrote a song that says this better than I could.

Prayers of Hope

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Last week I was asked to submit a simple prayer to be used on 106.9 The Light’s impact days. This week John Owens, General Manager, sent me a recording of all of us (the others who had been asked to pray too). I think you will find it comforting and encouraging.

It’s 11 minutes long…but worth it.

In case you don’t recognize some of those praying, here is a list:

Pastor Bruce Frank – Biltmore Church, Arden NC
Chip Ingram – Living on the Edge
Will Graham – Evangelist/Executive Director of the Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove in Asheville
Clayton King – Crossroads Summer Camps and New Spring Church
Chuck Bentley – Crown Financial Ministries
Dr. Don Wilton – First Baptist Church, Spartanburg, SC
Greg Laurie – A New Beginning
Pastor Jerry Lewis – Grace Community Church, Marion, NC
John Fuller – Focus on the Family
Pastor Jim Dykes – Brookstone Church, Weaverville, NC
Anne Graham Lotz – Living in the Light

Your many are no match for the One

But David went up the ascent of the Mount of Olives, weeping as he went, barefoot and with his head covered. And all the people who were with him covered their heads, and they went up, weeping as they went. And it was told David, “Ahithophel is among the conspirators with Absalom.” And David said, “O LORD, please turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness.” (2 Corinthians 15:30-31, ESV)

This has to be one of the lowest moments of King David’s life. His son has become his enemy. The boy who ate at his table, hunted wild game with him, and grew up in the palace is now pursuing him. His head is covered, but not with a kingly crown, his feet do not wear the shoes of a warrior. It is a walk of shame, a march of defeat.

When King David came to Bahurim, there came out a man of the family of the house of Saul, whose name was Shimei, the son of Gera, and as he came he cursed continually. And he threw stones at David and at all the servants of King David, and all the people and all the mighty men were on his right hand and on his left. And Shimei said as he cursed, “Get out, get out, you man of blood, you worthless man! (2 Samuel 16:5-7, ESV)

David is weeping over a son who has become a tyrant. He is experiencing the ultimate betrayal. And his enemies come out of the woodwork–all the “Shimeis” find their way to his walk of shame and hurl more than insults. They literally throw rocks at him.
He found a place to settle and get some sleep. The next morning he penned these words:
O LORD, how many are my foes!
Many are rising against me; many are saying of my soul,
“There is no salvation for him in God.” Selah
But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.
I cried aloud to the LORD, and he answered me from his holy hill. Selah
I lay down and slept; I woke again, for the LORD sustained me.
I will not be afraid of many thousands of people who have set themselves against me all around.
Arise, O LORD! Save me, O my God!
For you strike all my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the wicked.
Salvation belongs to the LORD; your blessing be on your people! Selah (Psalm 3:1-8, ESV)
Many. Many. Many. When David wakes up he remembers the nightmarish reality of his life. He is surrounded by enemies–many of them. He has many foes. Many are rising against him, and the “many” are taunting his very soul–they are trying to tell him that even God has abandoned him!
He interrupts the many with mention of the One.

You are no match for the many in your life, but God is.

Your many are no match for your one God. He is a shield. He is the lifter of your head. Your walk of shame is his opportunity to show you mercy. If you slept last night, somebody stayed awake and watched over you. If you’re awake this morning, somebody woke you, but breath in your lungs and hope in your heart.

Your many are no match for your one God.

After reflecting on his one true God, David has courage. His language changes. Though his own son is chasing him out of his beloved Jerusalem, though Shimei is hurling insults and stones, David writes these words: I will not be afraid of many.

Many things are unraveling in our world. Our health is at stake. Our finances are in peril. Pressure on families in tight quarters produces anxiety. Fear is rampant. You have your own list of many. You don’t have to think hard to list them.

Salvation belongs to your one God. He will smack your many on the face; he will punch your many in the teeth (David’s words, not mine)

This song was written from Psalm 3. Worship.

Suffering…Hope’s Distant Cousin

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. (Psalm 62:5-7 ESV)

David returns to his opening thought. (see verse 1)  For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence. Why? For my hope is from him. Most of the time we use the word hope interchangeably for “wish.” I wish the sun would shine tomorrow. I wish that package would arrive. I wish…

Biblical hope is far more than a wish.

Biblical hope is the sure promise of future reward.

Paul talks about this kind of hope in Romans 5:

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:1-5)

Paul tells the believers in Rome that they can rejoice in sufferings. Why? Paul isn’t advocating an emotionless response to the very real pain of life. No! Rejoicing in suffering is possible for the same reason a mother endures the pain of giving birth to a child: the hope of holding that child in her arms as a newborn. Our hope is fixed on the glory of God–we live to honor Him. And strangely enough it comes through waiting and suffering.

Suffering initiates a domino effect: suffering produces endurance, endurance produces character, and character produces hope.

Hope grows best in the soil of suffering.

Notice the distance between suffering and hope. Suffering is followed by endurance (which takes time).  Endurance is followed by character (which is built over time). Character produces hope.

For most of us this has been the worst year of our lives. Our suffering is so real that hope seems a distant dream, a far-flung idea. Don’t despair. Hope is coming! Endure–don’t quit!

David writes: He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken. On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God. Today, lean in on God. Wait on him–quieten yourself before him. He is your refuge, your safe place…your hope.

Made For Another World

You’ve heard it said, “a picture is worth a thousand words.” I’ll spare you my words and show you a picture of Gogo, Wendy’s grandmother, who is in Mountain Ridge Wellness in Ridgecrest. Since we cannot visit her, they’re so gracious to post things like this. This was posted yesterday.

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C. S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Gogo was made for another world. So am I. So are you.