Surely He Was the Son of God

Ever been late?
Not the type of late that is the “coming in to class or worship a couple of minutes after it started” type of late. Ever been the type of late that you want to kick yourself for? Like having the realization of the exact words that would have calmed a situation or comforted someone who was hurting – thirty minutes after you said something stupid? Or maybe you were wrapped up in your own little world and didn’t realize that you could have helped someone – until they had turned away and gone down a dangerous path and wouldn’t listen to you anymore?

When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!” Matthew 27:54

Of all the people gathered near the cross of Jesus, perhaps the most unlikeliest group we would expect to confess would be the soldiers guarding Jesus. Remember this calloused group of professionals whose job it is to make sure that the condemned die in an efficient, yet brutal manner? They were not looking for anything spectacular. They had no idea who Jesus was. They didn’t know of the rumors or the claims that were being made about Jesus. But the events of the day – the earthquake, the way the rocks split open, the darkness that had enveloped them when the sun should have been shining its brightest – all these things told this brazen group that Jesus was not just a criminal hanging on a cross.
In unison they cry out their cry of worship: “Surely he was the Son of God!”
If only they had realized earlier… perhaps they could have cried out a different song: “Surely he IS the Son of God!”

This morning we gather at this table like we do every week. As a result of its frequency, it can become something that we merely go through with a glazed look and a mind racing toward the afternoon and all the things we have to do today. Before this moment passes us by and we race off to do all the unimportant things we have scheduled for today, stop and take a look around. Listen to the voice of Jesus as he breaks the bread with us. Hear his compassion as he explains the cup of the new covenant.

This morning, let us focus our thoughts and fix our eyes on Jesus. In the few moments that it takes us to eat this bread and drink this cup, let us concentrate our efforts on what this meal means. Let us break the body of Christ and drink the blood of the new covenant with reverent thanksgiving. Let us mourn our sinfulness and stand in awe of God’s grace. Let us confess our specific sins to the Father and feel the warm embrace as he welcomes us to this table and fellowships with us.
We gather around this table to celebrate God’s love shown through Jesus Christ. We gather to remember his death and the life that it brings. We gather to cry out with the soldiers, “Surely he IS the Son of God!”
Don’t let this moment pass without recognizing God’s presence with us.

And Mary Stood Nearby

How often are we called to take our minds back to the cross? How often do we try to imagine that scene? How often does it come out looking like a silhouette or like a scene we saw in a movie once?
This morning I want to ask you to take your minds back just a little ways away from the cross. A little to the side of the cross. Imagine the scene as you hear these words from John’s gospel…
“Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother…”

Have you ever seen the cross through her eyes?
Watching your own son die?

Have you ever stood in her place as God offers forgiveness to the world?

We talk freely about God sending his one and only son into the world to save sinners. Somehow we think that God had everything worked out and so it didn’t really hurt him all that much. We figure that God already had the power to destroy death, so what did it really matter that Jesus was going to be dead for a couple of days.
But have you ever seen the sacrifice from Mary’s point of view? She didn’t know he would rise again. She didn’t fully understand the battle that was being fought or the victory that was being won that day. She saw her son – beaten and bloody, hanging, dying, on a cross. Perhaps she remembered the words Simeon had spoken when she and Joseph had taken Jesus to the temple after he was born, “and a sword will pierce your own soul, too.”

This morning as we gather around this table, let us remember the real sacrifice that was made. Let us remember the pain and anguish of this sacrifice. Let us be touched again by the real, raw, emotions present with us at this table. And let us be thankful that the sacrifice was made that can bring us peace.

That Day

“I tell you, I will not drink of this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it anew with you in my Father’s kingdom.” (Matthew 26:29)
Toward the close of the Passover meal that was transformed into the meal that we celebrate today, Jesus gave his followers hope for the future as he promised that he would drink the fruit of the vine with them in the Father’s kingdom. We tend to focus on that part of the sentence, reminding one another that Jesus is coming back for us and that we will be with him throughout eternity. It is good to encourage one another in this manner…in fact, Paul tells us to do so in I Thessalonians 4:16-18 as he writes,
For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. Therefore encourage each other with these words.
But these words also imply something else, in the meantime Jesus is absent. Jesus said that he would not drink the fruit of the vine again until he drank it in God’s kingdom. In the upper room, those who drank the cup heard that Jesus would not be feasting with them any more for a while. His absence would soon be painfully real to them. They would be facing the world without him from now on. Yes, he had promised the spirit, and the spirit did come, and Jesus is with us in spirit today, but he is not physically present as he once was.
The disciples who ate in that upper room would face the pain of a cruel world. They would be persecuted. They would suffer. And they would ultimately die – most of them as martyrs. The fact that we continue to gather around this table reminds us of the same thing. In this world we will face trouble and persecution, pain and loss…our Savior is presently absent. We cannot escape that fact.
But he will return. And we will go home. And we will feast with him. And we will never again face pain or loss or suffering of any kind.
In the meantime, we gather around this table, remembering the pain that Jesus went through on our behalf so that we could be cleansed of our sins. And we also gather around this table to wait for his return, when all the pain will be washed away with our sins and we will be brought into the glory of the kingdom of God.

The New Covenant

(Here is another communion meditation from a few years ago... Hope it helps us to remember the reason we gather together on Sundays...)

Jesus was supposed to remind his followers of the exodus. He was supposed to tell the story about how the Jews had been enslaved in Egypt and how God had brought them out of slavery with a mighty hand. He was supposed to talk about the angel killing the firstborn of those not protected by lamb’s blood and about the Israelites leaving Egypt in a hurry and about crossing the sea on dry ground and about manna from heaven.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Jesus took the unleavened bread and defined it as his body. Then he took the cup and instructed all of his disciples to drink from it explaining, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.” (Matthew 26:26)
The disciples were expecting to hear the exodus story from long ago, the story that they knew so well. Instead they heard a new exodus story. The story Jesus tells is not a story about God demonstrating his powerful mighty arm through plagues and death. This exodus story is not about placing the blood of a lamb on the exterior of a house. This story is not about leaving in a hurry and having to eat unleavened bread. It is not a story of crossing the sea on dry ground. The story Jesus has for those who will follow him is not a story about the past – it is the story of a new covenant established with his blood.
The new exodus story is the story of God displaying his power through unending love, unimaginable grace, and unmerited favor to all those who will follow him. It is the story of being immersed in Jesus’ blood so that our entire lives are covered by his blood. The story is about leaving slavery to sin and accepting the life that he offers.
This morning we take part in the new story of the exodus. We pause to remember how God worked to bring us to where we are today. We pause to remember the love of Christ and his sacrifice. We pause to look forward to the day when he returns and we are taken home with him. We pause to be thankful.
This is our story. We were slaves to sin, but God chose to bring us out of sin. He sent his son to rescue us from those sins. He offers us forgiveness through the blood of his son which was shed as he died on a cross. He offers us new life through the same power that raised Jesus from the grave.
Let us remember this story as we eat this meal with thankfulness and as we live our lives in a way that brings glory and honor to him.

Drink From It, All of You

While Jesus and the disciples were making their way to Jerusalem for the last time, the mother of James and John approached Jesus, bowed down, and asked that her sons might be promoted above everyone else in God’s kingdom and that they might sit on either side of Jesus. After their mother made this request, Jesus addressed the brothers by asking them if they could drink the cup Jesus was going to drink. They readily agreed that they could drink the cup. I believe they argued this way because they thought it would assure them of their place at Jesus’ side. Then Jesus told them that they would drink of his cup, but that he could not guarantee their place at his side in the kingdom – that decision would be up to God alone.
Somehow the ten heard about the favor asked of Jesus by James and John and their mom. Their power play led to division among the twelve. Ten were against two. The NIV uses the word “indignant” to describe the reaction of the ten to the twelve. The desire of James and John to be promoted, to drink the cup of Christ, divided the group.

A few days later the twelve found themselves in a room together with Jesus eating a very important meal. During the meal, Jesus revealed that there was a traitor among them. Judas then left the group at some point to gather the posse that would arrest Jesus. During that same meal, Jesus took a loaf of bread, defined it as his body, and gave it to the disciples to eat.
“Then he took the cup, gave thanks and offered it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you.’ ” (Matthew 26:27)
Together they would all drink the cup that night. No one would be excluded. No one would be elevated above the rest. No one more important, no one less. The cup of Christ is an equalizing force. It humbles the exalted and exalts the humble. It unites us all together as one group. Around the table there is no discrimination, for we are all forgiven sinners who have been saved by the power of the blood of Christ.

I invite you to take your mind back to the cross this morning. Remember the sacrifice that was paid. Remember the cup of suffering that Jesus drank on our behalf. Remember the drink he took on our behalf as he tasted the wrath that our sins demanded. As we take part in this feast, let us be thankful that we have the opportunity to drink from the cup of Christ. And in our thanksgiving, let us remember that all who drink from the cup drink from it equally.

Roll Back the Stone

After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. Matthew 28:1-4

Let me ask you to think about a simple question this morning: What if the stone had never been rolled back so that the Marys could see inside the empty tomb? What if the angel had never appeared on that Sunday morning? What if Mary and Mary had never gone in to see where Jesus’ body had been laid?
If those things had not happened, we would not be gathered here this morning to remember what Jesus did on our behalf. Without the empty tomb and witnesses to the empty tomb, we would have no hope of resurrection or eternal life. The apostles and early disciples would never have preached the message of Jesus Christ, they would have never endured the persecution they endured, they would not have done all the things they did… Peter, Andrew, James and John would have gone back to fishing. Matthew would have gone back to his tax collector’s booth. Simon would have gone back to scheming ways to overthrow the Romans. And you and I would have never heard about the Son of God coming to earth.
We gather this morning because the stone was rolled away from the entrance to the tomb. We gather this morning because the Lord is risen. We gather this morning because he will come again.
So as we eat this bread and drink this cup, let us remember the hope that he has given us. Let us remember the power we have through him. Let us remember the calling we have received to be his people and continue the mission of reaching out to those in this world who need to know of the risen Savior.

This Is My Body

(Here is another communion meditation from a few years ago. May it be a reminder of the reason we gather together each week with fellow brothers and sisters.)

“While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to his disciples saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’ ” (Matthew 26:26)
By now the apostles are used to Jesus saying and doing some things that seemed strange at the time. They have learned to trust him even when things don’t exactly make sense. But they must have still been dumbfounded when Jesus passes bread around the table with the explanation, “This is my body.” His natural body was present, but Jesus alludes to a different body, saying that this was now his body.
It probably didn’t make sense until Jesus used a similar meal to reveal what he was saying to his followers. It happened on the day of his resurrection. Two of Jesus’ followers are leaving Jerusalem heading toward the city of Emmaus. As they were walking, Jesus came up and walked with them as they discussed the recent events.
Apparently his body was different somehow, for they did not recognize him as he walked and talked with them, but, “when he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight.”

“This is my body.”

Picture the scene in the upper room a bit differently now. Jesus takes the bread, gives thanks and breaks the bread giving it to his disciples with the instruction, “take and eat.” Then, looking around the room at each person, putting his arms around those on either side of him, he says with great pride and joy, “this is my body,” referring to the people in the room as well as the bread that was broken. That’s not the way it is recorded, but that is the reality of what was happening that night. It is the same thing he was doing on the road to Emmaus – showing his new body to those who had seen his old body. In the upper room Jesus was putting his arms around his followers, the ones who would become his body on earth after he was gone. And he was encouraging them by giving them something that they could hang on to after he had returned to the Father.
The scene continues to unfold before us today. And those words continue to be powerful words as we break the bread and eat. But it is more than bread, it is community. It is brother and sister, uniting together to become something powerful. It is member being joined to member so that we become a whole. As we gather around this table and partake of this feast, Jesus puts his arms around us, his brothers and sisters, and says to the world, “this is my body.”

And as we eat this bread, let us remember that we share this meal of the body of Christ as the body of Christ with the body of Christ.

Yes, It Is You

(Another communion meditation from a few years back. May it remind us of the reason we come together each week as the body of Christ.)

“I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.”
They were very sad and began to say to him one after the other, “Surely not I, Lord?”
Jesus replied, “The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. The Son of Man will go just as it is written about him. But woe to that man who betrays the Son of Man! It would be better for him if he had not been born.”
Then Judas, the one who would betray him, said, “Surely not I, Rabbi?”
Jesus answered, “Yes, it is you.” (Matthew 26:21-25)

A more accurate translation of this last phrase would be, “You, yourself have said it,” or simply “You said it.”
One by one the apostles asked Jesus, “Surely not I, Lord?” One by one they admitted their own insecurities and fears. Each one realized that he could have been the one Jesus meant when he said that one of them would betray them. And finally, after Jesus speaks again, Judas asks the question that he already knows the answer to, “Surely not I, Rabbi?” To which Jesus responds, “You said it.”
The difference between the eleven and Judas is subtle to us. In fact, we may not have noticed it. Eleven men ask, “Surely not I, Lord.” Judas asks, “Surely not I, Rabbi.” Almost without exception in the gospel of Matthew, the term Rabbi is used by unbelievers. The term Rabbi was used to identify someone as a teacher. The term Lord shows a relationship that goes beyond the formalities of teacher-student relationship. The eleven display their acceptance of Jesus as their Master. By calling him Lord, they are showing that they want to live like him, to model his behavior, his speech, his actions. By calling Jesus “Rabbi,” Judas recognizes that Jesus is intelligent and wise, but that he is not persuaded to live the lifestyle Jesus has called him to live.
The debate highlighted at this meal continues to this day. Is Jesus Lord? Or is Jesus rabbi? Sometimes the debate makes its way into the public arena as one faith argues with another over the identity of Christ. But the more important debate is the internal debate we have with ourselves. Is he my Lord?
At times he may be our Lord, and we fervently follow him. At other times he may be a teacher whose teaching we can ignore for a time. This morning, as we gather to remember his sacrifice, let us each reflect on our relationship with Christ. Is he Lord? Or is he teacher?
[Pause and think about that.]
We gather around this table as people who call Jesus “Lord.” We accept Jesus as our Master, our Teacher, our Savior. We gather because we want to live like him; modeling his behavior, his speech, his actions. We also gather because we cannot attain what we want – to be like him perfectly. So we come together this morning to eat this meal and be strengthened by our Lord.

What Price for Jesus?

(Here is another communion meditation from a few years ago. I pray that it helps us to remember the reason we gather together on Sundays as the family of God.)

Did you ever want something that you didn’t have? Maybe as a child your friend or your sibling had a toy that you really liked. If only you possessed that toy…your life would be so much better. But there was a problem. It wasn’t yours. And you didn’t have the money to buy it. But you really wanted it. So you started bartering for it. You start the conversation by saying something like, “Can I trade you something for that toy?”
To which the owner of the toy says, “What are you willing to give me if I hand it over to you?”
You quickly start showing off your treasures. A piece of bubble gum, some army men, a sling shot, and a marble. As each treasure comes out of your pocket, your friend’s eyes light up a little bit more until you finally get that last marble out. And before you can retrieve anything else, he shoves the toy toward you and grabs his loot. The deal was done.
In much the same way, Judas approaches the chief priests during the week before Jesus was crucified… “Then one of the Twelve—the one called Judas Iscariot—went to the chief priests and asked, ‘What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?’ So they counted out for him thirty silver coins. From then on Judas watched for an opportunity to hand him over.” (Matthew 26:14-16)
I can’t answer the question of why Judas would go to the chief priests. Some say he was greedy, some say he was trying to get Jesus to start the revolt he thought was going to take place. All I can do is watch his eyes as the treasurer slowly begins placing the coins on the table.
One…two…three. He barely looks at the table.
Seventeen…eighteen…nineteen. His stomach begins to knot, his feet shift.
Twenty-eight. Eyes wide.
Twenty-nine. He is sweating with anticipation.
Thirty. Dirty hands scoop up the coins and Judas quickly slinks away.

The irony of that moment. While Judas saw Jesus as something he could sell, Jesus saw Judas as someone he could save. And so he gave himself.

Judas gave something he did not possess for something he would not keep.
Jesus gave himself, his life, a thing he did possess for someone who would not have him.

But the exchange Jesus made was not just for Judas, it was for all of the Judases, all the Adams, all the Eves, all of you, and all of me. And so, we gather to remember the life that was betrayed for a measly price. We remember the great debt that life paid. We remember that our sins are forgiven. Let us, therefore, accept the memorial feast with thanksgiving and awe.

What Is Valuable at the Table?

* On Sundays (or Saturday nights for Sunday) I post communion meditations that I wrote at some point over the past few years. I pray that they will help the body remember the significance of why we gather together each week.

It is still two days before the Passover. Around Jerusalem families and friends are uniting for a yearly ritual. An air of celebration permeates everything as thoughts turn back to how God led the Israelites out of Egyptian slavery. The minds of a nation turned backward to a night long before any of them were born… a night when all the firstborn of Egypt were killed, but the Israelites were spared.
Now, years later, they celebrate the Passover near the Temple. But before the Passover celebration began, the Jews would gather in homes and celebrate, laugh, reminisce, and enjoy one another’s company. Each table would contain a mixture of family and friends as homes were opened for loved ones.
But the tables weren’t open tables. You couldn’t just walk in off the street and be welcomed to a table. Or could you?

While Jesus was in Bethany in the home of a man known as Simon the Leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table.
When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?’ they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.”
Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.” Matthew 26:6-13

Notice those around Jesus. A leper named Simon who has invited them all together. A sinful woman willing to “waste” a whole jar of expensive perfume. And the disciples – a group of men who are shocked at such extravagant waste in their presence. Their training with Jesus has taught them to value the poor. He has trained them to know the right answers. But they hadn’t fully understood what was valuable at the table.
At the table of fellowship, it is not the gift that is valuable, no matter the monetary value people assign to it. It isn’t the size of the check or the gift. What matters at the table is the giver and their relationship with Jesus. What matters is pouring out one’s all for the one who gave all.
As we gather around this table, don’t miss the value of this moment. It is not in any of the physical things that we see, but on the attitudes and intents of those gathered. It is on the renewing of that relationship with Christ. What is valuable is pouring out one’s own self and being filled with the Spirit of God as we partake of the body and blood of Christ.

Two Days from the Passover

* On Sunday mornings (or on Saturday nights for Sunday mornings) I am going to post communion meditations that I have written at some point in the last few years. I pray that they will help the body remember the significance of why we gather together each week.

To understand the scene, it might help if we pictured Vancouver a couple of days before the Olympics began. Everywhere you look there are reminders of the Olympics. Everyone is talking about the teams involved and sporting their country's colors. The city swells with thousands of spectators who have come from all over the world. Journalists. Cameras. Television networks. Newspapers. The nations focus on the Vancouver and everything that happens there. For those two weeks – everything revolves around the Olympic games.
Picture that scene as we turn our attention to Jesus and his disciples as they walk through the streets of Jerusalem...

When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, “As you know, the Passover is two days away—and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.” Then the chief priests and the elders of the people assembled in the palace of the high priest, whose name was Caiaphas, and they plotted to arrest Jesus in some sly way and kill him. “But not during the Feast,” they said, “or there may be a riot among the people.” (Matthew 26:1-5)

It was a festive atmosphere in Jerusalem. Everyone’s attention was on the upcoming Passover Feast which would be followed by seven days of remembering how God delivered the Jews from Egypt under Moses’ leadership. But what would be happening two days prior to the feast?
When God announced the first Passover, he told them to find a lamb by the tenth day of the month and take care of the lamb until the day of the Passover Feast – the fourteenth day. It was their responsibility to feed, clean, and protect that lamb until twilight of the fourteenth day. At that time all the animals were killed and roasted, their blood was used to cover the doorposts of their house. The blood on the house would be a sign that protected all of the firstborn in that house.
The tradition surrounding the lamb would continue as the Passover observance became the most important of the Jewish feasts. The lamb itself is symbolic of God’s redemptive power, a reminder of God’s mercy, a sign of God’s love. While Jesus walks about the streets of Jerusalem two days before the Passover, he is becoming that sacrificial lamb for all humanity.
As the Lamb walked the streets of Jerusalem, pointing to the upcoming feast, the teachers of the law were scheming and plotting a way to silence God’s plan. This lamb’s blood would not cover a doorpost as a sign to an angel. This lamb’s blood would cover the hearts of men and women who turned to God. It would cleanse the sin from the lives of unworthy people.
As we gather today, the Passover has come and gone – but the feast remains. The body of the lamb lies before us. As we eat this memorial feast, we remember God’s power, his mercy, his love. In eating this meal, we are brought together and unified through the working of God. We are made one family. God’s power is on display – but journalists will not notice, cameras will not cover the scene, networks will not broadcast this mornings events, newspapers will not run headlines of our meal together. Yet what we do around this table is much more important than anything else we could be doing during this time – remembering the sacrifice, praising the father, thanking our savior…