Wonders in the Darkness (A Post for Holy Saturday)

"Are your wonders known in the darkness,

or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?"

Ps. 88:12

Are Your wonders known in the darkness? That had to be the question on the disciples' minds on this day when You were dead and in the grave. Are Your wonders still known in the darkness? Oh, the weight of that question in the perspective of this day makes my soul ache. I wish we knew more about this day for the disciples. I wish we knew their questions, their faith, their discussions as they hid. Did one of them dare to say, "He said three days?" Did they all just completely forget? Did they find the Hope that they could anchor their souls to? Are Your wonders known in the darkness? Is Your righteousness known in the land of forgetfulness? Were they able to say, "Yet You are holy" in the midst of despair? Would I have been able to say it? Would I have been able to claim hope after watching the Savior executed in the most torturous and inhumane way possible, and as He laid in the grave still cling to hope? Are Your wonders known in the darkness?

Yes. They are. Or they can be. Your wonders are there in the darkness. "For who has spoken and it came to pass unless You commanded it? And is it not from Your mouth that good and bad come?"(Lam. 3:37-38). Pilate could have handed Jesus over to be killed, the crowd could have yelled, "Crucify him!" all night long, but unless You had commanded it, it would not have come to pass. Your wonders are in the darkness. Were You not, on this day, when Jesus was in the grave, still God? Of course You were! Because it was not You who was defeated on Good Friday, but sin! At no point in the redemption story were You defeated. At no point were You not reigning sovereignly. At no point were things out of Your control. At no point were You not sitting victoriously and bringing victory.

Sunday's comin'. But it's not here yet. 

But still You are God. Still You are victorious. You were in no way less God while Jesus laid in the grave on Saturday as on Sunday when He rose from it. Hallelujah!

Just and Justifier

I've started and erased this post three times already. I very rarely do that. I'm more a write as it comes, read through it once, press publish type of blog writer. But the weight of this is just heavy. And I want the words to be right.

Because what I'm trying to write about here is the wrath of God. And how the wrath of God gives me greater understanding of the love of God.

You see, these past few weeks, mention the name of Jesus and tears will come to my eyes. Because I'm just so thankful. Thankful seems like a petty word here.

The reason for that increased thankfulness, the deepened, core-aching gratitude, is that I've been studying the wrath of God. Not purposefully. I did not set out into the Lenten season and think, "Hey, the wrath of God seems like a good place to start." Nope, not at all. But man, am I thankful that's where God led me.

Because as I read about the wrath of God, as my church family walks through it together on a Sunday, as my lifegroup presses into it on Wednesday evenings, this is what I've learned: I didn't need a Savior just from myself or my sin or hell. I needed a Savior from God. God doesn't just save me from my sin. He saves me from Himself.

Words fall so short.

You see, I think growing up in the south, growing up in church, it somehow becomes easy to think that God sending Jesus is what He should have done because it's what I know. It's easy to think that the cross is the only natural and logical response of God to sin. But it's so not. I think it also becomes easy to somehow make sin a lesser deal than it is when I know it's already covered by grace. But failure to give God glory, is not trivial, it is treason. Because of who He is. The worthiness and dignity of the one insulted determines the seriousness of the offense. And God is not a small Sovereign to offend.

And so God, being just, must punish the belittlement of His name. He must punish glory thievery.

Enter Jesus (and enter tears). Because Jesus, He doesn't just divert God's wrath. God's wrath didn't just go away because Jesus died on the cross. God's wrath isn't just withdrawn or cancelled because of Jesus.

No, God's wrath was fully and completely exhausted. It was spent. It was absorbed. And it was exhausted, spent, and absorbed on Jesus. Let that sink in. The wrath of God is due and just, and for God to remain just, it had to be spent, not just cancelled.

And so God did the most loving thing that could have ever been done. He poured out His wrath on Himself. Can you feel the weight of that? Can you feel the love in that?

God's demonstration of His love for us was the emptying of His wrath on Himself. In Jesus, He is able to be both just and the justifier (Rom. 3:26). What would have taking me an eternity to endure in hell, Jesus endured for me on the cross.

And so as Good Friday and Easter come, my heart aches, literally aches, with thankfulness. Oh, the love of God... deeper understood by the wrath of God.

Could we with ink the ocean fill

Or were the skies of parchment made

Were every stalk on earth a quill

And every man a scribe by trade

To write the love of God above

Would drain the ocean dry

Nor could the scroll contain the whole

Though stretched from sky to sky

Also, you are SO very welcome to join my church family at Finlay Park on Sunday for our Easter celebration. Seriously, come one and come all. 

By this everyone will know...

Sometimes the Church breaks my heart. Because sometimes I think the Church is such a poor reflection of Christ.

Last week was one of those weeks where the failures of the Church just seemed so blatant. The failures to love and treat others as humans, as people made in the image of God, were put on display for all the world to see. And the world was watching.

They watched as Christians ranted, raved, and screamed over World Vision's decision to employ people who are in same-sex marriages in their US offices. And they watched as people on opposite sides ranted, raved, and screamed that the other side would even dare rant, rave, or scream. They watched as people standing on both sides of that debate argued in 140 characters, in blog posts, on Facebook, and any other platform that would let them. They watched as so many sponsors ended their sponsorships--stopped providing for the basic needs of children-- that World Vision had to retract their decision, calling it a terrible mistake and asking for forgiveness.

And my heart shattered. It broke. Because last week, the Church was a terrible display of Christ. John 13:35 says, "By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." Last week, love was not the message sent by the Church. Words that were shared were words of hate, from both sides of the debate. One side called ignorant and worse; the other side called blasphemous and worse.

I'm not here to add to the debate; there are enough voices doing that. I'm here to say that the debate has gone too far when it is only filled with hate for each other. When hate is the message the Church sends out, we are wrong. Hate for others is not the message of Christ. Ever. If you love one another.  By this everyone will know... Love the "ignorant." Love the "blasphemous." Love everyone in-between.

I would say that irreparable damage was done last week. But I don't believe anything is irreparable when it comes to God. I pray He will redeem this... that as tempers cool, both sides would realize they didn't handle the situation with grace. I pray they would seek forgiveness from each other and that they could have healthy, gospel-driven conversation. May neither side count the other side as down-and-out or outside of God's ability to work. May both sides love. Because by this everyone will know.