Good Friday

From an email to my girls this evening~

Today, my scheduled Bible reading landed in Jeremiah 7 through 11. In this portion, Israel, the chosen and beloved people of God, has repeatedly forsaken him for evil pleasures, including idol worship, adultery, and child sacrifice (not so very different from our own country, hmmm?). Jeremiah is sent by God to tell the people that they have literally left God with no choice but to severely punish them and purge their sin from among them by allowing them to be brutally conquered and slaughtered by their enemies. They respond with half-hearted repentance, but their attitude is more like a shrugging-of-the-shoulders, implying that God is a meany and would punish them no mater what they do. Not true. Their persistent rebellion brought their own condemnation upon them. Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that he will also reap (Gal. 6:7).

This is a matter of serious consideration for us. Sin's consequences are grievous, for all sin is a terrible offense against a perfect, just, and holy God. We cannot fully comprehend what holiness is, for we are without it. Any righteousness, any goodness, any holiness, is imparted through Christ, and found only in the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit after repentance and belief in Jesus' atoning death, burial, and resurrection as the substitutionary sacrifice in our guilty place--the place of dishonor, unholiness, and worthy of punishment for our sins. "The wages of sin is death." "Your sin will find you out." The Bible is very clear about the result of rebellion against God. Sin begets death, pain, misery, strife, fear, anger, jealousy, hatred, self-love, distrust, pride, lust, greed, and on and on the list goes. It is an ever-descending spiral to hell, literally. Such is our fate apart from Christ.

But, today is not called "Good Friday" for no reason. It is a good day--a most excellent, wondrous, glorious day for all mankind. Today we remember with special remembrance that God stepped into the gap between our unworthy, defiled, unlovable selves and his holy, majestic completeness--and he became like us, in a body like ours, to love us, heal us, and die for us to pay the debt we ought to have paid, a debt that deserved no less than the eternal outpouring of the wrath of God. He bridged that abyss, he loved us when we were unlovable, he called us when we hated him, and he healed us when we were beyond human healing. He saved us, literally. Do not forget this grace, this favor, this unmerited affection and kindness, this benevolence that came to us, who were so undeserving and wretched. It is his grace that saves. Repentance and belief is the appropriate response from any human who has ears to hear and eyes to see and understand the truth of such love. For those who would deny that wickedness that dwells in their own hearts, those who would stop up their ears and turn away their eyes from the light, they, like the Israelites of Jeremiah's day, have damned themselves by rejecting the grace they need so desperately.

Remember what it is you have been saved from, and always think, "But for the grace of God, there go I." Beware of pride. Remember who we are apart from Christ--despised, guilty, and worthy of all condemnation. Remember who you are in Christ Jesus--a new creation, and the beloved bride of Jesus himself. An adopted child of the Most High God, grafted into his Church by grace, sweet grace. And rejoice in such a remembrance, no matter what your present circumstances may be.

That is all, dear ones. Good night, on this Good Friday.
Love, B

This, This is Why

More thoughts for my girls, from my Bible reading this evening.

Tonight, I'm reading from Matthew 26 through Mark 2.

The end of Matthew chronicles the unjust trial, condemnation, persecution, crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. It's a powerful story, even more so this time of year, with Easter only a couple of weeks away. There is so much I could say; I don't know where to focus for just one thoughts for this email.

I suppose I want to draw your attention to the night Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, and his disciples (who were supposed to be praying and watching at the gate) repeatedly fell asleep and left him alone, unsupported, in his darkest hour. (See Matthew 26:36-46)

I have to confess; for a long time (and maybe even still), I really didn't understand Jesus' grief and despair at this time. I guess I thought, "Yes, definitely it would be somber to await one's executioners, even more so when you hadn't done anything wrong. How scary to be unjustly condemned, and how awful to await the dawn, knowing it would bring nothing but terror and, ultimately, a murderer's death by agonizing crucifixion." I didn't really get it. Jesus didn't sweat drops of blood and weep because he was afraid to die an agonizing death. (Which would be reason enough for me to sweat blood and cry, by the way. I'm terribly afraid of pain). He spent the night in total anguish because he knew that his death meant not merely excruciating physical pain, and total humiliation, but . . . he, the Holy, the Sovereign, the Son of the Father who knew God, loved God, and who was God, would become the recipient of the righteous, terrible wrath of a just and holy God. We cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of terror and anguish this is. The only Man who had ever lived in perfect obedience, total innocence, without one single sin against him, would become a blood-saturated substitute for all who were truly guilty. His holiness, cleanness, and perfect purity would bear the punishment deserved by all who were filthy, rotten, foul, debased, and evil to the core of their very beings. The punishment you and I deserve.

That is why he wept. Not for physical pain, but for spiritual anguish. The wrath of God is a crippling, terrible, frightening, killing kind of fear that cuts to the quick of all who understand its measure. It is this gasping, paralyzing, anguishing fear that drives foul sinners to repentance, that drives them to their knees, begging forgiveness from a Holy God before whom they have no reason to stand except for His grace. But, He cannot simply be gracious to wicked people and still be just; all sins have a just recompense, a wage that has been earned and must be paid. That wage is death. An agonizing, spiritual, separated-from-God death. A death you and I, by all rights, have earned for ourselves by our foul hearts.

And Jesus Christ, that loving, gentle, holy, perfect, beautiful Son of Man and Son of God, saw down the corridors of time and saw your face, your tear-filled eyes, your guilty sentence, your hopeless plight, your foul record of sins, and he stepped up to executioner's block, not only for a physical death, but for the full onslaught of the out-poured wrath of God. For you. For me. And it cost him, oh so dearly. Such anguish. Such grief. How he prayed in that garden that there might be some other way! "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will, Father."

Oh, how great is our God. How merciful. How slow to anger, abounding in mercy. What is man, that You are mindful of him? We are so small, so weak, so flawed, yet he loves us still. I cannot understand such love. And in its wake, as a recipient of such immeasurable graciousness, how can I possibly settle for a religion that is shallow, weak, apathetic, fleshly in its lusts, and requires me to give less than absolutely everything? Look at what He did for me! Would I insult him so, and disregard such love? What hypocrisy is such a pseudo-faith! Far be it from me, oh Lord. I am weak, but You are strong. Help me, Father, to live with urgency and a right perspective of my place: from whence I've come, by Your amazing grace.

"Who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began." (2 Tim 1:9)

All my love, sweet girls,
~Brenna

. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"