Rise Again

My brother used to sing this old Dallas Holm song every Easter when we were young. I was asked to do it this year, and I wasn't very excited about it at first....given my pitiful spiritual condition of which I spoke earlier.

But I wasn't going to be a no-show on Easter of all Sundays, so I started preparing. I found the song in, no kidding, the oldest hymnal we have at home, which only fueled my fires of lethargy.

And because I am so overcommitted, I was also working on a Sunday school lesson to teach that morning on the topic of resurrection. I inwardly rolled my eyes at the predictability of it all.

Somewhere along the way of learning about the awesome sacrifice of the cross, I only skimmed over Christ's resurrection. Truly, at the age of 5, there was no way I could grasp its meaning, so I was only taught to believe THAT it happened, without any understanding of WHY it happened. I guess I relegated that moment to the ranks of one of Jesus' other miracles - namely, that he did it to prove he was God's Son and that he possessed all of God's attributes of power and supremacy over creation.

But somewhere in the text of 1 Corinthians 15, verses jumped out as never before. The text says, "If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins," and, "If in this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied."

Other notable theologians may have already stumbled on this truth, but....I'm a little s-l-o-w. Yes, Christ had to die to receive the punishment for our sins. But, our ultimate punishment is our own physical death. Guess what! You're still going to die! So am I. And all the things that lead up to that death - illness, toil, human frailty and aging - they are all a part of the punishment. Christ's death was only a step in the process. He had to rise again in order to release us from the finality of that punishment. Death is a speedbump for those who have put their faith in Christ.

I have spent the last few years observing the gradual deterioration of my father as disease overtakes his body and mind. He grows weaker, frailer, more confused each year. What he is going through really brings Paul's words in 2 Corinthians 4 to light: "Though outwardly we are wasting away, inwardly we are being renewed day by day, for our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." The frailty brought on by Parkinson's Disease is the curse of sin taking it's full effect on my father while it can.

Did you catch that?

While it can!!!!!

On whatever day the Lord chooses to take him, or any of us for that matter, home, he won't wake up in eternity with a stagger, a slur, a slump in his shoulders. He will wake up in his glorified body. I am convinced more than ever that heaven will not be full of a bunch of ephemeral spirits and ghosts of people who once lived. We will be there in bone and skin with all senses tingling as we enjoy the fulness of God's creation the way He intended as even creation itself is fully restored.

Christ rose, not just because He's awesome and He could. He rose because He must. Here is the victory, not that Christ died for us alone but that He also busted through the once fastened doors of death as if to say, "This is only a breezeway. Pass on through."

Happy Easter Every Day.

Joanna

Meanwhile, back at the ranch

Life. It's that funny little arrangement of days and times and seasons that consume our thoughts and activities. Mine has fluctuated between chaos and calm, like most folks. And I feel about blogging like I feel about my devotional life. Sometimes, it's working. Sometimes, it ain't.

I stopped having regular devotions a while back. I don't know why. I didn't intend to. I volunteered for way too many things at church this year and felt burnt out. If I picked my Bible up, it was to study for a lesson I was set to teach. If I played the piano or guitar, it was to practice music for a worship service or private lesson. There haven't been many things I've gotten to do just for the beauty or simplicity of doing them.

When I get busy like this, I start to make a lot of lists. I can't function without one because I will forget something. Everything has to get down onto the agenda for the day. Here's what mine currently looks like.

• 5:45am - Up, shower and all that stuff. Leave for school at 7:15am.
• 7:30am - School day starts. Lessons, tutoring, planning ahead, rehearsals, duty.
• 3:45pm - Get home, walk the dog.
• 4:30pm - Afternoon private music lessons.
• 7:45pm - Last lesson ends.
• 8:00pm - Eat supper, then clean up kitchen. Joe does the cooking.
• 9:00pm - Sit down to watch a little TV before bed.
• 9:15pm - Fall asleep on the couch.
• 10:00pm - Wake up, remember some bill or piece of adoption paperwork needs to get mailed tomorrow, run upstairs to office to prepare document, get sucked into facebook.
• 11:00pm - Peel myself away from the computer, fall into bed.
• Lather, rinse, repeat

I daydream about what my day would look like if I could do as I pleased. I know I'd waste a lot of time, and it's better that I stay busy than be left to my own agenda. It'd involve too much TV and internet time, and a lot of playing outside with the dog. But I'd give myself a good two hours a day to paint, play music, and write.

Here's the thing, though. Because I stay so busy, I limit every activity to things that have a purpose. I stopped blogging for a while because I thought it had no purpose. Nobody reads this post. Nobody cares what I have to say. I'm not an important theologian or political pundit. And most importantly, nobody expects this of me. I am not obligated or paid to do this. Same thing with my paintings. I make them as gifts to give, but I quit painting just because I like to. I quit sitting down to write music because the whole experience of going to Nashville in September ended...in Nashville...in September. I have written a couple of songs since then, but I haven't sung them anywhere yet. I have almost quit singing in the church choir. And it's because of those same cynical reasons that I quit blogging. I'm not obligated or paid to do this. I'm busy enough as it is. Why keep up with a hobby that nobody pays attention to?

Why do I need someone to pay attention to me?

Well, Easter was a turning point for me. I put off going to choir practice to work on our cantata. I didn't even want to be in it. I didn't have a major role. My voice wouldn't be missed. The choir has grown. They don't need me.... These are all excuses I gave. But the last two weeks, I jumped back in and started listening to the CD at home to get caught up. And somewhere in the middle of that cantata and a Sunday school lesson about the resurrection which I will comment on later, I woke up. I can only describe it in the words of my favorite hymn, "And Can It Be."

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,

Fastbound in sin and nature's night.

Thine eye diffused a quickening ray,

I woke, the dungeon flamed with light.

My chains fell off, my heart was free.

I rose, went forth and followed Thee.

I have been a believer and follower of Christ since I made that decision at 5 years old. But the weariness of life had chained me. I was like the Galatians who knew and accepted the gospel only to let someone put chains on them again with legalism. The specific words from the cantata that moved me to this newfound freedom were adapted from an old hymn that has almost become a joke in Baptist circles, "Just As I Am".

Somewhere in the midst of "I come broken to be mended, I come empty to be filled. I come desperate to be rescued. I come wounded to be healed. I come guilty to be pardoned by the blood of Christ the Lamb, and I'm welcomed with open arms, praise God, just as I am," I realized that I was not singing this song to an audience. I was singing it to my own heart, realizing that the grief of the previous year, so full of loss and difficulty, had really coated my heart with a protective film. My flurry of activity was a symptom of a greater disease of self absorption and fear of what God would say if I slowed down to listen.

On Palm Sunday, as I sang through those words, I remembered my baptism from long ago. The words bathed me in forgiveness. It was so good to sing again. It was good to hear God say that He accepts me. As evangelicals, we encourage people to accept God's forgiveness, grace, and Lordship. But how much greater to know that I am accepted in return....

Just as I am.