Death Made Possible

I was awakened by a dream-boy attacking me, trying to kill me with scissors. [I know, gross. Stick with me. There’s a point here.]

Aren’t you glad that’s how it happens (most of the time)? We wake up before the scene gets too bloody, before our free-falling body hits the sidewalk. Before death.

My dream-boy was dreamy until I asked him, “So, what do you think of Jesus?”

That’s when his eyes filled with hatred. That’s when he pulled the scissors out. That’s when I woke up, not afraid (surprisingly)…but, stunned at the vivid picture, which I had the strong impression was spiritual. This seemed to be confirmed when I unintentionally read John 16:2 the next morning— “The time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God.” I didn’t read any personal prophesy into this, but took it as a reminder that people either love or hate Jesus. And that often means they will either love or hate His followers.

I thought about a passage I recently spent time with, Acts 17:16-34. Paul goes to Athens and talks about God with Jewish people, God-fearing Greeks, and philosophers. Much has been said and can be learned from this passage, but one thing that especially stood out to me was this: The resurrection of Jesus is where the rubber meets the road. My dream-boy was fine until the mention of Jesus. When Paul speaks about the resurrection of Jesus to the people of Athens, some sneer, some seek, and some are saved there and then.

And no wonder! The gospel hinges on the power and authority of God to defeat sin and death as displayed in the resurrection. Paul says that if Christ did not rise from the dead, our preaching is useless (1 Corinthians 15:14).

Every SOUL hinges on the resurrection of Jesus.

When we accept the death of Jesus on our behalf, when we accept that He rose from the grave, and follow Him as Lord, something miraculous happens: WE are raised from the dead.

And something else peculiarly miraculous happens: we’re able to die. We’re invited to die in a way that’s ONLY POSSIBLE through the resurrection of Jesus. We’re invited to allow the Spirit of God to breathe life that puts to death the death in us— to eradicate the brokenness that prevents us from living lives filled with the love and grace of God— our selfishness, our pride, our lust.

For life’s sake!

Wait, wait, wait. So what about my dream-boy-gone-stab-happy? Sometimes the whole “death to self” thing can seem separate from outward suffering for Christ— whether that looks like battling cancer in faithfulness to Christ, waking up extra early in faithfulness to Christ, or persecution and martyrdom in faithfulness to Christ. But the two are closely connected: If we haven’t died to ourselves, we’ll never be able to truly suffer for Christ or with Christ. We’ll suffer the big and small alright, but when we don’t surrender to God in our suffering, we miss out on intimacy with God and honoring Him with our circumstances.

Two days after my dream, I went searching for verses on prayer. I was looking in Acts and my eyes wandered over to the end of John (chapter 21) and Jesus’ conversation with Peter:

Jesus asks, “Do you love me more that these?”  “Do you love me?”  “Do you love me?”

Peter says yes each time.

Jesus responds, “Feed my lambs.” “Take care of my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.”

Then, then Jesus says, “Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.”

The tears came loose while I read. I pictured young Peter, in love with Jesus and also heartbroken about his previous failure, aware of his need and yet being commissioned— I pictured Peter, old, bent over from years of feeding the Flock, being dressed by someone else, being led where he does not want to go…to his own crucifixion.

As I saw him, used by God’s grace, surrendered, glorifying God as he was led to another rugged cross….I heard Jesus’ words: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Matthew 16:18).

One whose life ended so like Jesus’, on a cross— the rock the church is built on.

An old man, dressed by others, his arms outreached…the rock.

My heart was breaking in the pain of it and the glory and the reality of what the church is built on— ultimately THE Rock (the crucified and risen Jesus), but also those crucified and risen with Him. Crucifixion is part of the story of each Christ-follower— of every living stone (1 Peter 2:5) that makes up the church.

Paul wrote to the Galatians, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Galatians 2:20a). I wonder if Paul’s heart filled. I wonder if he thought not only about Jesus’ death, but also Peter’s death. I wonder if he thought about the brothers and sisters he ordered to die before he encountered Jesus on the Damascus road or the variety of deaths he might suffer. I wonder if he was overwhelmed by the power of a God who could not only pay for his sins in full, but put to death his flesh and FILL him— a God who could enable him to live and die IN CHRIST.

Paul’s words fill me with wonder at the power of God. They fill me with bravery and confidence. CHRIST lives in me. I’ll proclaim it and proclaim it again with down-to-my-toes gratitude— my flesh is dead and my soul is alive because Jesus lives. I can be led wherever God wants to take me— even to places I do not want to go— because Jesus drank the cup He did not want to drink…and yet drank for the joy set before Him: The wrath of God meant for me.

I can, for the joy set before me, endure the cross because the Son of God defeated death and hell when He rose from the grave. Because He lives, sweet unity awaits me.

Photo by Alem Sánchez from Pexels

Where Sacrifice Starts

Oh, beloved of God.

(That’s you.)

Shall we pause there?

That’s you.

Okay, I think we can move on now.

But, if you need to stay there….stay there…

The season of Lent began this week.

On the 13^th of February I realized that Ash Wednesday was on the 14^th this year, Valentine’s Day. I began to think of all the different things I could do, or could give up, for Lent…and felt a little guilty for being super aware of Valentine’s Day and super not aware of Ash Wednesday.

Around the same time I was also looking at other scripture about getting rid of things— I read John’s account of Jesus driving the profit-hungry religious out of the temple before Passover. I also heard Christine Caine and Bianca Olthoff (thank the Lord for technology) teach on these words from Paul:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. ³ Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

In light of all of this, I felt like the questions I needed to ask myself were clear—

What do I need to throw off? What do I need to drive out of the temple of my heart? What specifically do you want me to add or subtract during this season of Lent, God?

Again and again I asked and His answer didn’t seem clear.

I was once again (dang soul-amnesia #annvoskamp) caught in a desperate striving to understand.

Wouldn’t it be super cool if you audibly told me what to do, God? Or, supplied me with some holy dice? 

Instead, the Spirit led me to the dark of my prayer closet (aka…my closet) and to a place of silence.

He showed me, reminded me, that what my soul really wanted, what my heart was really longing for, was intimacy with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit of God. I wanted to be closer to Him and I was afraid that something was in the way, something that I just couldn’t quite figure out.

He showed me the lie I subconsciously believed— that I needed to love Him perfectly before I could receive His perfect love.

What nonsense?!

When I was His enemy, He died for me. When I was helpless, He poured out His grace on me. Indeed, my body is like dust, but God knew my soul before the foundations of the earth.

He predestined me in accordance with the pleasure of His will. Through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus on the cross I am justified before the Father, I am FILLED with the Holy Spirit, I am a co-heir with CHRIST.

WHEW.

And here I am all distraught wondering what I should do, what I need to do to be okay with God…forgetting that He did and DOES it all.

Paul reminds us to fix our eyes on JESUS. How often do I look down at my feet? How often do I, like Peter, forget that it is by God’s power I am carried nearer Jesus and doubt that I can make it to the finish line?

There was NOTHING separating me from His love while I knelt all angsty-like in the closet. My ability to have intimacy with Jesus is not the result of what I’ve done, but what HE has done. He paid with His blood for the grace and love poured out on me— all I need to do is open my hands and accept it. He always wanted communion…communion.

Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me (John 15:4).

The glory which You gave Me I have given them, that they may be one just as We are one:  I in them, and You in Me; that they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that You have sent Me, and have loved them as You have loved Me (John 17:22-23).

We can do nothing apart from God— intimacy with God is where we start.

We start with the knowledge that apart from Him we can do nothing.

We start with basking in His deep love for us.

We start with adoration of our sweet, mighty, warrior-lover— Jesus.

When we kneel at His feet, marveling in His power and glory, and let go we can trust that He will reveal to us exactly what He wants to, when He wants to. And, He’s already revealed so much through scripture.

The word I received from God in my closet was unexpected— an invitation to adore Him and connect with Him rather than worry. An invitation to follow Him step by step with JOY…with the lightness that comes knowing that all things are from Him, and through Him, and to Him (Romans 11:36)

Where does sacrifice start? In the fullness of Christ’s provision— the fullness of His love. 

To Him be the glory forever and ever.

How have you experienced God’s love lately? I would be happy to hear from you!

Love,

Donielle Hart