Triumphal

Palm Sunday is the day we remember Jesus’ entering Jerusalem to be crucified. We call it His Triumphal entry because the way He entered was very symbolic. It fulfilled Zacharias 9: 9

Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion!

Shout aloud, O daughter of Jerusalem!

Behold, your king is coming to you;

righteous and having salvation is he,

humble and mounted on a donkey,

on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

The people along Jesus’ path did not miss the symbolism and they rejoiced with His appearance by waving palm branches and laying their coats and blankets on the road. They celebrated Him as their Messiah who would come to deliver them from the Roman Empire which oppressed them. They exalted Him as a new leader who would charge the rebellion that would liberate the people of Israel from the years of occupation and abuse. They saw Him as the earthly King to their earthly kingdom of their present. They saw Him as a political figure. I guess they missed the part where it said He was “righteous and humble.” Don’t they realize you cannot mix the concepts of politics, righteousness and humbleness together in one sentence?

So how can we say that this entry was triumphal if it ended with Jesus nailed to the cross?

It was triumphal because it foreshadowed Jesus’ entry into the Kingdom of Heaven. This was but a pale picture of the victory that Jesus accomplished on the cross and of the day He is crowned King of all kings and Lord of all lords. Jesus humble entry into Jerusalem is nothing but a poor reflection of His glorious entry into the New Jerusalem.

In His humble estate as a man, Jesus entered the Holy City to be slaughtered. He self-restricted the Word that speaks the universe into existence, and the power that sustains life so He could embrace His humanity and fulfill the Father’s plan. This is the triumph of this event. The Divine walking on Earth’s ground to save us, undeserving breed.

To add to the depth of such statement, He did not do it just for the nice, the good or the lovable. He did it for me too, the angry, the bitter, the unlovable…the sinner.

Therefore, the triumph of His accomplishment transfers also to us who receive Him. He overcomes the world so we can too.

That is why we rejoice today, for our King is coming to us!

Linking with:  Whole Hearted Home and Little R and R

Do They Know?

As we were going to church yesterday, we drove by a golf course that was packed full of cheerful golfers about to begin their game. At that moment, Dylan, my eight-year-old surprised me with a question: “do they know about Palm Sunday?”

I pondered the question for a minute, and then said: “probably not…unfortunately. That is why we are told by God to tell people about Jesus and about His love.” 

We arrived at church, went to Sunday school, Service and then lunch. With all the activities, I didn’t think about the golfers or Dylan’s question any more…until now.

The scene replays in my mind: my young son attentively looking out the window of our car, seeing all the people gearing up to enjoy a beautiful Sunday morning on the golf course…to then wonder… “do they know about Palm Sunday?”

Children always see things through a different glass…one that is not distorted by the world. I have to admit that I did think to myself that the golfers should be in church rather than at the golf course…but mine were not the most compassionate thoughts. I thought about it with an attitude of disdain for them. It was the classic, “holier than thou” perspective. Whereas Dylan was genuinely worried about them, about the implications that not going to church on a Sunday, especially on Palm Sunday may have on the state of their souls.

Today, I am challenged by my lack of concern. Mainly also because the main point discussed at Sunday school yesterday was paying attention that we see people as having souls…as spiritual beings, not just as props on our way. How quickly I forget…

I walk around this earth forgetting that all those I meet on my way are living vessels that contain the very essence of God. Therefore, I rarely concern myself with the potential lost state of their souls. I see them as objects that I pass by. I see them as part of the material world with whom I may, perhaps, never interact. 

No wonder I am a terrible ambassador for Christ. The great commission of making disciples is lost in me. I have always rationalized my lack of ability to evangelize by saying that I do not have what it takes or that I am way too self-conscious to put myself out there, exposed to rejection and ridicule. Today, I think, however, that most of my unwillingness to tell others about Christ derives from my lack of attention. I do not see others as spiritual beings with an eternal soul which may be lost to an eternity without God. And I don’t see myself as an instrument that God can use to reach them. My pride and self-image trump any faint desire I may have to put myself in God’s hands and joyfully allow Him to do His will through me. 

I pray this Holy week that my heart can be softened to the needs of others. That the Lord, who sees it all, may give me His eyes, so I can see too. That I may have a mind like my son’s, the mind of a child, to recognize the soul in those I pass by.

Linking with: Monday Musings

Irresistible

Have you ever wondered about how missionaries follow God’s call to the ends of the world…literally? I do…all the time…

I hear and read about their stories from the comfort of my home and through the convenience of my laptop. I get to see pictures of their projects and the people they serve in my Facebook wall and in their blogs. I marvel at how they endure severe illness as they lack for the most basic necessities; but still, never consider quitting as a possibility. The strength of their spirit surely does come from within. It comes from the Holy Spirit that lives within, that is. I don’t think any human being can last too long without the supernatural strength that comes directly from the Divine.

Then, I consider the reality that such strength is not just given to missionaries in the remote corners of Haiti or the inhospitable regions of Muslin ruled countries like Sudan. The Holy Spirit dwells in the soul of every child of the Most High. His strength is in us, reaching us here in the land of comfort as well. God’s grace showers us wherever He finds us, and once He finds us, it is impossible to resist Him. It is impossible not to follow Him be it to the corner coffee shop for some one on one evangelism to our friends, or to the corners of a distant land where entire villages haven’t heard of Christ.

Once we’ve heard His voice in our soul…once we’ve seen His face with the eyes of our heart, it is impossible to resist Him…it is impossible not to follow Him. We see it in the Bible countless of times. One occasion that jumps at me now is the passage about Bartimaeus, the blind, beggar man sitting by the roadside who began to cry out to Jesus as He and His followers were leaving Jericho. He asked Jesus to have mercy on him. Jesus then asked him in reply, “what do you want me to do for you?” and Bartimaeus said without hesitation, “Rabbi, I want to see.” Jesus healed him and the man “immediately” after he received his sight, “followed Jesus along the road.” (Mark 10: 46-52)

This formerly blind, beggar did not think twice. As soon as He saw Jesus’ face, he joined Him. The very sight of Christ’s presence was enough to know that there was nothing else for him to do, but to follow Him.

Sometimes, I cover my own eyes to avoid seeing. Sometimes the world wraps a thick veil around my head as it spins me into confusion and blurriness. Like this man, all I want is to “see.” I want to see Him. I want Him to heal my blindness and allow me to see His face. I want to follow Him along the road. I don’t want to be hindered by the things of this world. I want to be free to follow Him, who has given me my sight.

Whereas to the ends of the world, or to the end of the road, with His presence going before me and my sight restored, I too can follow Him wherever He may lead me.

Linking with:  Essential Thing Devotions

The Extravagant Giver

I’m still thinking about the passage of Mary anointing Jesus with the expensive nard in John 12: 1-8. At this time, this passage makes me turn my eyes onto the offering. That was no simple jar of cologne. What Mary offered to her Lord that evening at her house was a precious and very costly gift, worth about a year’s wages! Not only was it valuable in money, but also in significance. That was the type of perfume used to anoint the body for burial. It was also most likely part of her dowry. 

She didn’t care. To Mary, tending to Jesus’ needs at that precise moment, about a week short of His crucifixion, was way more important than any earthly treasure.

Her selfless actions make me think of my own offerings. Often, I am reluctant to give because I am afraid. Be it giving my money, my time, my talents, I am nervous to offer them, may I need them later. I am hesitant to give of myself because I don’t trust the Lord’s Provision. It’s just as simple as that.

I justify my reluctance to give by thinking that not everyone is able to afford giving in the capacity that Mary did. After all, she had no kids to feed and clothe. She had hardly any bills to pay, her brother took care of her. She didn’t have to put away money in her 401K or college fund. Not everyone has such a comfortable life…not many of us can afford to be such free-spirits. What I forget is that we can all give with abandon regardless of our situation. While not everyone could give such an extravagant gift as Mary did, to some extent, however, we all can be extravagant givers.

It is not about the monetary value of the gift. It is about what it costs us. It is about the value that it has to us. I am very selfish with my time. I have my own agenda. Every day I have a list of things I want to accomplish. Rarely, I find in that list anything that has to do with selfless giving of my time to others. Hardly ever have I written on that piece of paper anything like: “Time to spend with the Lord.” I don’t remember ever writing a line item that reads: “time for ministry.” In my case, I am ashamed to say, I rather give money than my time. It is easier for me to write a check than to say: “I’ll do it.” 

Don’t get me wrong…I still have a very hard time parting with money, but it is not as valuable to me as my selfish pursuit of “me time.” 

My inability to become a cheerful giver of my time results from my inability to fully accept the fact that everything I have belongs to the Lord. I am just a steward, and a rather inefficient one. I am nothing but an administrator of all the gifts He has given me. My job is to figure out, through listening to the Holy Spirit, how He wants me to use all that He has given me while I am still on this side of Heaven. My job is not to become enslaved to the gifts I’ve received. My job is to realize that He gives and He takes away. If I run out of something, He’ll provide for it some other way. 

The extravagant giver knows all these and just gives. He/she gives himself, and that is the most fragrant offering the Lord would ever want to receive. He doesn’t need anything we have. He wants us. He wants all of us: our lives, our possessions, our family, our children, our house, our time…all of it…

God wants us to live abundant lives in Him, trusting His provision and having no other master than Himself. All for Him, and to Him.

Linking with: Whole Hearted Home

Not What I Deserve...

Sometimes I catch myself consumed by the way of thinking that produces statements like: “I work hard, so I deserve to get that overpriced patio furniture,” or “I’m a good person, I obey the law, I respect others, so I deserve to get a break in life.” The one that troubles me the most, however, is: “I am a child of God and I serve Him and His people faithfully; therefore, I deserve to cruise through life without running into any misfortune.” 

I begin to get caught up in this web of misguided thoughts when I forget that by the grace of God I don’t get what I really deserve! 

The Bible tells us how nobody meets the standard of righteousness:

…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God… Romans 3: 23 

Indeed, there is no one on earth who is righteous, no one who does what is right and never sins. Ecclesiastes 7: 20 

On our own, we can never become who we need to be in order to be justified. Salvation is only possible thanks to the redeeming power of Christ. Regardless of how good we think we are, we are never good enough to save ourselves. No amount of good deeds we accumulate could ever buy us heaven. It is only by the precious blood of Jesus that we are cleansed. It is by Jesus’ righteousness that we are admitted into the presence of the Most High. 

Jesus did come to give us life and life in abundance; but it is a gift. Therefore, the sense of entitlement must be eradicated and replaced by a deep sense of humility and gratitude. This realization is what moves us to humbly thank Him for we don’t get what we really deserve.

There Is Something About Mary...

There were several Marys’ who walked alongside Jesus during His journey on this earth. His earthly Mother, for one, began the line of Marys’ in His life. Today I would like to look at Mary the sister of Lazarus and Martha. The one who wouldn’t help out at the dinner party...the one who stayed behind, crying at the death of her brother...the one who broke the jar of expensive perfume...the one whose favorite place was at the feet of Jesus. There is something about this Mary that intrigues me. 

Is it her lack of common sense? Is it her impracticality? Is it her disregard for material things? Is it her disdain for the rigid rules and conventions of her society? Yes, yes, yes and yes. However, all of these could be combined into one, her heart. Mary’s heart is like a well-tended garden always in bloom! She is a vessel filled with the Holy Spirit. Through her actions, we learn fundamental lessons about how to have a heart after His own heart.

Today, I am looking at Mary’s anointing of the Lord. In John 12: 1-8, the Apostle gave his witness account of this event as follows:

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor. Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him. Then Mary took about a pint[a] of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected, “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? It was worth a year’s wages.” He did not say this because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag, he used to help himself to what was put into it.

“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied. “It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial. 8 You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”

There is so much to talk about in this passage, but at this time I would like to focus my eyes on Mary’s actions. Apparently, she didn’t learn the lesson from the previous event when Martha complained to Jesus about her for not helping out with the dinner party (Luke 10: 38-42). Once again, while her sister was, one more time, busy taking care of the guests and Lazarus was launching with the boys, Mary was in her front row seat, at Jesus’ feet.

In this occasion, however, Mary was not just sitting there, basking in Jesus’ presence. That day, less than a week before Christ’s agony and death, Mary was tending to the Lord’s needs. She knew that Martha would manage serving the guests beautifully; after all, that’s what Marthas know how to do best! Mary also knew that her brother Lazarus would take care of the entertainment; after all, he’s gotta have some juicy tales from the crypt. Therefore, Mary’s focus was Jesus, and only Jesus. Her total disregard for what people may think of her (showing her hair alone was a huge no, no in the Jewish culture back then), plus her total disdain of material things (the pure nard she poured on Jesus was probably part of her dowry) show how her heart was clearly tuned into the Lord’s. Her actions demonstrate that her priority was to seek Him and serve Him in His hour of need. 

Can you imagine knowing that soon you will be going through horrendous physical and spiritual agony to the point of the most gruesome death? Can you imagine the anguish of knowing that such a thing is coming to you in a few days? As a man, fully human, Jesus must have felt the sting of anxiety at those moments when this crucial part of God’s plan was about to be fulfilled in Him. Therefore, I can’t help but thinking that to Him, Mary’s selfless gesture of deep love and compassion was most welcome. That’s why Jesus so adamantly said: “leave her alone,” when the disciples suggested a big error in her ways. He needed that moment. He needed to feel the gentle oil covering his tired feet. He needed to breathe in that fragrance that filled the room; and so did the Father in Heaven. The aroma of such perfume ascended to His Heavenly throne to remind Him of the love that leads to enduring what’s to come. 

At any rate, I don’t know if I’m right; but I like to think that the reason that Mary has always intrigued me is because I long to be like her…completely focused on what really matters…completely focused on my Lord.

Linking with: Essential Thing Devotions and Fellowship Fridays16/

The Fig Tree

Usually, I’m a pretty short-tempered person. Everyone in my house knows it. They also know that my lack of temperamental sweetness gets aggravated when I’m hungry. That’s why when “Mama” says that she is hungry, those who hear her roar, don’t dare to interfere with her pursuit for sustenance. 

Tucked in Mark, chapter 11, verses 12-14 there is a passage about Jesus that, when I read it lightly, at first glance it made me chuckle a bit. I chuckled because it reminded me of my “condition.” 

The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it.

Cursing the fig tree, however, was not Jesus’ irrational response in a moment of hunger. It was rather a symbolic gesture foreshadowing the future of the nation of Israel. Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary says that Jesus “made this fig-tree an example, not to the trees, but to the men of that generation. It was a figure of the doom upon the Jewish church, to which he came seeking fruit, but found none.” Jesus’ sentence to Israel comes right before He overturned the tables of the money changers and drove away the vendors at the temple. This was Jesus' way to expose Israel’s wickedness hidden behind empty religiosity.  This was His way to urge them to turn to Him and love Him.  But repentance never came, and instead, they put Him on the cross.  

Israel as a nation did not listen, and for that, they have missed out on knowing the truth that the Messiah they have been waiting for is already here. 

Today, I see this passage as a warning to me as well. Jesus warns me to open my eyes and see Him. He warns me of the consequences of not allowing the Holy Spirit to grow His fruits in me. He warns me of the fate that awaits me if I refuse the cleansing of my spirit and the change of my fallen ways.

As Lent continues to usher us into Easter, I recognize that I too, like the fig tree, am nothing but leaves. From the distance, I may seem lush, but in reality, I am not in season yet. I am not even in bloom. I’m still stuck in winter inside, asleep and unfruitful. Therefore, I pray to The Only One who can make something out of me. I lift up my eyes to Him who transfers His righteousness unto me and gives me the strength to carry on with the work of His Kingdom, that He may transform me into that tree full of His fruit for the benefit of His beloved.

In the meantime, I will try to start by measuring my grumpiness at mealtime….

Linking with:  Whole Hearted Home and Little R and R