RESURRECTION FAITH

“On His arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days… ‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if You had been here, my brother would not have died.  But I know that even now God will give You whatever you ask.’”  (John 11:17, 21 NIV)

This one statement reveals two types of faith.

The first is what I call preventative faith… Preventative faith believes God can keep things from happening. So we pray for traveling mercies or a hedge of protection around our children. And while there is nothing wrong with that, there is a second dimension of faith that believes God can actually undo what’s been done. I call it resurrection faith. It’s a faith that refuses to put periods at the end of disappointments because God can make your impossible possible. Even when the application is denied or the adoption falls through or the business goes bankrupt, don’t put a period there…

What needs to die in your life so that it can be resurrected? So that God can reveal more of His power? So that God gets all the glory? You need to bury it. Then if it’s resurrected, you know God did it.

It takes courage to end an unhealthy dating relationship, but you won’t find Mr. Right as long as you are dating Mr. Wrong. It takes courage to quit a job, but it might be the difference between making a living and making a life. It takes courage to change majors, but it’s better to fail at something you love than succeed at something you hate. Maybe you need to bury the relationship, bury the job, or bury the major. Then you need to wait for Jesus to show up.

“Jesus called in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, ‘Take off the grave clothes and let him go.’”  (John 11:43-44 NIV)

-- Mark Batterson in “The Grave Robber: How Jesus Can Make Your Impossible Possible”

#6326

THE LAST WORD

“But to the Son He says: ‘Your throne, O God, is forever and ever; a scepter of righteousness is the scepter of Your kingdom.’”  (Hebrews 1:8 NKJV)

Christians sing, especially at Christmas and Easter, “And He” – that is, Christ – “shall reign forever and ever.” We stand for the singing of it, and for those moments when the Hallelujahs ring, we feel that someday, somehow, He will reign. But then we go back to reading the paper and listening to the evening news as if the end will be a whimper rather than a hallelujah.

At this point, it’s time to immerse ourselves in the good word of God. We need to know that though our political and social and economic structure seems so often to have some kind of fatal, deteriorative illness, so that every good scheme we develop turns only to embarrassment, these are not the last word. Even our best words are not the last word. I’m very sure that monarchy is not the last word, nor is dictatorship. I’m equally sure that socialism is not the last word, nor is communism. And although I happen to be a passionate believer in democracy and in those forms of economic freedom which foster democracy, I don’t think democracy is the last word, nor responsible capitalism. None of these! The last word is GOD. And then there’s an exclamation point. 

-- J. Ellsworth Kalas, from a sermon entitled “In the End, the Exclamation Point”, February 28, 1990

#5399

BETWEEN THE ENDING AND THE BEGINNING

N0TE: As we end the year, maybe there is something -- a bad relationship, a sin, a habit, a desire, a self-centeredness, etc. -- that you would like to leave behind. I have adapted a prayer from Patricia Wilson that you might want to use on this final day of 2018. Fill in the blanks with something you would like to leave behind. -- DW

BETWEEN THE ENDING AND THE BEGINNING

I’ve tried everything, I can’t think of anything else to do, Lord. So I give this ____________ to You. I ask for nothing -- no special favors, no divine interventions, no sudden revelations. I simply place this in Your hands. And in giving it to You, I feel great relief. It is done. I have finally given up and accepted this ending. I know that from this moment on, my life will be different, and I accept this beginning as well.

Give me the strength to let all else go. Keep me from returning to this ____________. Remind me that I have given it to You.

Lead me to the higher ground, dear Jesus, where I can leave this ____________ behind. Fill me instead with Your peace and the knowledge that You are with me.

Be in this space between the ending and the beginning. It is a scary place for me as I begin to work through my life without this ____________ in it. Be between what was and what is to come.

Draw me closer to You in this time between the ending and the beginning. Let me see the place ahead not as a place to be feared but as a place You have prepared for me. 

-- Adapted from Patricia Wilson in “Quiet Spaces”