I have never experienced a more desperate love-hate relationship in my lifetime. Right now, I hate you. The more I hear about you, the more I hate you, because I want you so badly, yet I know you’re not good for me. I haven’t been with you for a long time, and oh, how miss that last time with you. You showed up, we spent the night together, my lips were on your neck. For a moment I loved you, then I remembered how much I hate the way you make me feel. You make me feel numb. You make me sick.
I can’t even tolerate one, short moment with you. I will not entertain you. You don’t deserve my love. You’ve hurt so many others, as well. You are a homewrecker. You are one I will not forgive. I have so many horrible memories of you, yet so many…
Resurrection Sunday is nearly upon us. We’ll see folks in their Sunday best, little children hunting down Easter eggs, and Sunday afternoon meals and potlucks in homes and churches across the land.
Resurrection Sunday is nearly upon us…let’s not forget…
It’s Friday. Jesus is arrested in the garden where He was praying. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. The disciples are hiding and Peter’s denying that he knows the Lord. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. Jesus is standing before the high priest of Israel, silent as a lamb before the slaughter. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. Jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. Those Roman soldiers are flogging our Lord with a leather scourge that has bits of bones and glass and metal, tearing at his flesh. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. The Son of man stands firm as they press the crown of thorns down into his brow. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. See Him walking to Calvary, the blood dripping from His body. See the cross crashing down on His back as He stumbles beneath the load. It’s Friday; but Sunday’s a coming.
It’s Friday. See those Roman soldiers driving the nails into the feet and hands of my Lord. Hear my Jesus cry, “Father, forgive them.” It’s Friday; but Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, bloody and dying. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. The sky grows dark, the earth begins to tremble, and He who knew no sin became sin for us. Holy God who will not abide with sin pours out His wrath on that perfect sacrificial lamb who cries out, “My God, My God. Why hast thou forsaken me?” What a horrible cry. But Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. And at the moment of Jesus’ death, the veil of the Temple that separates sinful man from Holy God was torn from the top to the bottom because Sunday’s coming.
It’s Friday. Jesus is hanging on the cross, heaven is weeping and hell is partying. But that’s because it’s Friday, and they don’t know it, but Sunday’s a coming.
And on that horrible day 2000 years ago, Jesus the Christ, the Lord of glory, the only begotten Son of God, the only perfect man died on the cross of Calvary. Satan thought that he had won the victory. Surely he had destroyed the Son of God. Finally he had disproved the prophecy God had uttered in the Garden and the one who was to crush his head had been destroyed. But that was Friday. Now it’s Sunday.
And just about dawn on that first day of the week, there was a great earthquake. But that wasn’t the only thing that was shaking because now it’s Sunday. And the angel of the Lord is coming down out of heaven and rolling the stone away from the door of the tomb. Yes, it’s Sunday, and the angel of the Lord is sitting on that stone and the guards posted at the tomb to keep the body from disappearing were shaking in their boots because it’s Sunday, and the lamb that was silent before the slaughter is now the resurrected lion from the tribe of Judah, for He is not here, the angel says. He is risen indeed. It’s Sunday, and the crucified and resurrected Christ has defeated death, hell, sin and the grave. It’s Sunday. And now everything has changed. It’s the age of grace, God’s grace poured out on all who would look to that crucified lamb of Calvary. Grace freely given to all who would believe that Jesus Christ died on the cross of Calvary was buried and rose again. All because it’s Sunday.
It’s Friiidaaaay! But Sundaaaaaaaaay’s Coming!
This old sermon, made famous by Dr. Tony Compolo, has gone through many versions…all of them similar and all of them powerful. Here are two more…
Resurrection Sunday is nearly upon us…let’s not forget…
We also had a poetry reading by Abby Brooks
Musical performance by Stacy Ivy accompanied by Lynn Caddell on guitar
Musical performance by Sarah Wallace and the adorable Saniah
In summary:
Talent was great…
Fellowship was encouraging…
And the fundraiser was a complete success!
In the still of the night the roar can be deafening.
Yet even as my heart starts to wander, his Spirit reminds me of Jeremiah who wrote,
“He has made my teeth grind on gravel, and made me cower in ashes; my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is; so I say, “My endurance has perished; so has my hope from the LORD.” Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
His Spirit leads with his word, filling both mind and heart, and fellowship with him halts the rising tide of doubt. In the still of the night the presence of God is not deafening. It quiets my soul.
It is an honor and privilege to reblog a few very powerful paragraphs from my son-in-law Zach Ricks. I am so looking forward to more. May his tribe increase.
Mankind is the apex of the creative desire of God almighty.
Jesus Christ High King of all creation. Fully God. Fully man. Begotten before creation. Wrapped in the mystery of the Godhead. Holy is He.
He has called me. A wretch among wretches, thorn among thorns, sinner among sinners to receive His irresistible grace. He is Most High Priest and Savior. Who was birthed, betrayed, buried, and who burst forth from the grave. And now is reigning at the right hand of the Father. He, who through His Son, has called me by His Holy Spirit to be a son of God, member of the body of Christ, and brother to those of the same blood. Saved by the blood of God. Handed the highest priced of all boons: His Grace.
All praise and honor and glory are due Him. This is my highest call as the…
Ricki Lee Brooks 