On Good Friday: Are my eyes and heart dry?

Reflecting upon the Lenten season and particularly upon the sacrificial death of our dear Lord, I am struck by my own ability to slip into a strange and dangerous sort of devotional dormancy at times. Late winter can be just such a season.

But how can this be, in light of the remarkable grace and love of the King of Kings? How is it possible for a living human soul to forget even for a moment the majesty of God and the miraculous mercy that drove Him to the worst kind of death in our place?

19th Century artwork - public domain

 

Good Friday is good.

We shudder at the brutality and suffering our Savior endured on our behalf. We understand that He did it to rescue us from sin and from evil and from death and from ourselves. We know this dark day in history paves the way to eternal glory. So we call the day “good.”

Do we also realize that Good Friday is also good because this highest of holy occasions reminds us of the unimaginable cost of Calvary?

The Lord of the universe gave His very self for us. That cost Him everything.

Pause, and let that sink in for a moment. Can we carry that truth in our hearts?

Often, exquisite God-gifted art can point us back to the truth. Here’s an example.

This Good Friday poem stabs me right in the heart.

British Victorian writer Christina Rossetti (1830-1894) is one of my all-time favorite poets. I simply love her poetry. My Rossetti favorites include:

• “A Better Resurrection,”
• “A Daughter of Eve,”
• “Consider the Lilies of the Field,”
• “Fata Morgana,”
• “Good Friday,”
• “In the Bleak Midwinter,”
• “My Dream,”
• “Remember,”
• “She Sat and Sang,” and
• “Uphill.”

 

Christina Rossetti - public domain artwork

Rossetti’s poems display a depth of devotion and thought that strikes me to the soul. Perhaps her insights came in part from enduring three failed engagements (over matters of faith) and remaining single lifelong, devoted only to God.

Good Friday

By Christina Rossetti

Am I a stone and not a sheep

That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross,

To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,

And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved

Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;

Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;

Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon

Which hid their faces in a starless sky,

A horror of great darkness at broad noon—

I, only I.

Yet give not o'er,

But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;

Greater than Moses, turn and look once more

And smite a rock.

As much as I love them, these lines make my heart hurt.

I wonder: Am I a stone or a sheep? Do I look to the Lord, or do I stand stoically by?

A biblical witness is not merely a neutral onlooker. We are called to be active participants in the Gospel of Christ. If I truly believe the very Son of God took on human flesh to bleed for me, then I will not merely watch, but I will also weep. I will mourn for my own misgivings. I will bear remorse and repent. Then I will rise and follow where He leads me.

In Numbers 20, the Bible tells how, in the Desert of Zin, the people thirsted, but there was no water to be found. The Lord instructed Moses to speak to a certain rock, and He promised to gush water from the stone.  Moses struck the rock, and the Almighty One brought forth water from it. Although Moses overdid it, hitting the stone instead of following God’s specific instructions, the Lord did a mighty miracle.

God is in the business of changing stony hearts.

Consider this word of the Lord to His people, spoken through the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel: 

Ezekiel 36:25-28 graphic created by this user on poster generator.

 

^“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. Then you will live in the land I gave your ancestors; you will be my people, and I will be your God.” (Ezekiel 36:25-28, NIV)

Soften my heart, Lord. Carve out callousness, and sweep away senseless scars. Keep my soul ever tender for you. Draw me nearer to the heart of God, and let my eyes and words flow with grace and gratitude for all You have done for me.

Image:

Created by this user with online generator

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A to Z Answers: Wisdom Adds Wonders

Wisdom is wonderful when it comes from the almighty all-knowing One!

A favorite traditional hymn by William Cowper spells this out so well. Cowper was a personal friend of John Newton, penning several songs together. Cowper’s best known hymns included “There is a Fountain” and “O, for a Closer Walk with Thee.”

Take a look at these lyrics by 18^th Century English poet and humanitarian Cowper (from Ol­ney Hymns, Lon­don: W. Ol­i­ver, 1779, No. 52).

Ere God Had Built the Mountains

(from Proverbs 8)

By William Cowper

Ere God had built the mountains,
Or raised the fruitful hills;
Before He filled the fountains
That feed the running rills;
In me from everlasting,
The wonderful I Am,
Found pleasures never wasting,
And Wisdom is my name.

When, like a tent to dwell in,
He spread the skies abroad,
And swathed about the swelling
Of Ocean’s mighty flood;
He wrought by weight and measure,
And I was with Him then:
Myself the Father’s pleasure,
And mine, the sons of men.

Thus Wisdom’s words discover
Thy glory and Thy grace,
Thou everlasting Lover
Of our unworthy race!
Thy gracious eye surveyed us
Ere stars were seen above;
In wisdom Thou hast made us,
And died for us in love.

And couldst Thou be delighted
With creatures such as we,
Who, when we saw Thee, slighted,
And nailed Thee to a tree?
Unfathomable wonder,
And mystery divine!
The voice that speaks in thunder,
Says, Sinner, I am thine!”

Wow. I wanna be wise! Wouldn’t anyone?

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18th Century Hymn Sing

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A to Z Answers: Grief to Glory

On this holy weekend, all Christendom ponders the passion of the Christ. We meditate upon the mercy of God, which called our Lord to take on human form and give His own life for us.

Surely, sin-caused sufferings shall cease, as He transforms grief to glory. Amen.

Grief to Glory,

by Linda Ann Nickerson

Today we may grieve, but not for long.

Tomorrow is Easter, with glory’s song.

As angels wait,

He flips our fate,

From death into life, where we belong.

The ground is cold, as still He rests.

We fast and pray and beat our breasts.

Behold, the cost

To buy the lost –

It ever to His love attests.

So sound the chimes, and ring the bell,

Declare the day. His vict’ry tell.

The Lord will rise

Before our eyes,

For Sunday’s coming. All is well.

c2012 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Happy Easter!

The tomb is empty, and Jesus is alive.

Glory to God.

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The Garden Tomb at Jerusalem

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A Carpenter’s Song

A Carpenter’s Song

“By a Carpenter

Mankind was made,

And only by that Carpenter

Can mankind be remade.”

Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus

Dutch Renaissance Priest

(1466 – 1536)

PBPGINFWMY

Have you heard that one?

Many years ago, someone handed me a pin-on button with those letters printed on its face.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Please be patient. God is not finished with me yet.”

Hmm.

The Bible puts it this way, via the Apostle Paul’s letter to the early Philippian church:

“He who began a good work in you

will carry it on to completion

until the day of Christ Jesus.”

(Philippians 1:6b, NIV)

God, our Creator (and our Re-Creator) promises to finish the work He has started in us.

Do you know any carpenters? My own brother is a master carpenter. I have often been astonished at the remarkable things he has built, from heirlooms to whole houses. Carpentry astounds me, particularly because I can hardly hammer a single nail without harming my handiwork – or even my hand!

Jesus, the Father’s Son and also the son of Nazereth carpenter Joseph (see Matthew 13:55), is the ultimate Carpenter. He can build something out of nothing. And His specialty is rebuilding broken things, especially broken hearts and broken lives.

Guess what? He isn’t finished with me yet!

 A Carpenter’s Song

The Carpenter builds from His heart

To transform my rubble to art.

Each pass of His plane

Does follow the grain,

His beauty and grace to impart.

No hammer of harm does He wield,

Although to the same did He yield.

Instead, He constructs,

Rebuilds and instructs,

Till His new creation’s revealed.

The process may take all my days,

As I pull against all His stays.

With masterful hands,

He saws, and He sands,

Creating a portrait of praise.

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Image/s:

Childhood of Christ

By Gerrit van Honthorse

Displayed in The Hermitage of St. Petersburg

 

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Yuletide - What a Ride

Yuletide - What a Ride

Yodel! Yell! Come sit a spell.

For Yuletide has a tale to tell.

Beginning with a pagan fest,

This fine December day is blest.

Let’s carol on for sweet Noel.

Say, strum the harp, and ring the bell.

Our Christmas trees by now are dressed,

And pretty packages we’ve guessed.

No wonder that our spirits swell.

Our God has come with us to dwell.

No longer are we sin-oppressed.

Immanuel met God’s request.

By angel chorus, all is well.

For Christ is born, death to expel.

The Infant Lord sleeps in His nest.

May all the world find peace and rest.

So burn the Yule log; dark dispel.

Cast out all melancholy smell.

Let none be downcast or distressed,

For Christmas joy is ne’er suppressed.

c2011 by Linda Ann Nickerson. All rights reserved.

 

“Therefore the Lord himself

will give you a sign:

The virgin will conceive

and give birth to a son,

and will call him Immanuel –

God with us.”

(Isaiah 7:14, NIV)

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Carved Nativity Set

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