Pastors' Blog

I watched a resurrection, a resurrection on video. One of our viewers is a Pentecostal pastor with whom I’ve had the privilege of studying the Bible. It was my turn to visit his church, and no sooner had we sat down in his small sanctuary than he picked up a video and played it, “You need to see this.”

It was an amazing “documentary-like” report from Africa about a pastor who didn’t survive a car accident. In a series of interviews with the pastor’s wife, the attending physician, and the mortician the story emerges of a wife who refused to quit praying, claiming the scriptural line, “Women received their dead raised to life again” (Hebrews 11:35). In fact three to four days after his death (with the embalming process already begun), this woman drove to the mortuary, convinced the mortician to release her husband’s body to her, coffin and all, so that she might take it to a visiting well-known European evangelist for prayer (truth in advertising—the video was produced by the evangelist). There at the large Christian center, crowded for the noon services, the widow approached two church workers with her plea.

On camera these two men describe what took place that afternoon, as the corpse of the deceased pastor was placed inside one of the church class rooms. The wife was praying, the men were wondering what to do next, when suddenly the dead pastor began to breathe. At this point in the video, clips from either a video or cell phone camera are inserted, and you actually witness the deceased “returning” to life, as it were. Soon word spills out and a crowd gathers around the doors of the class room. With photographs spliced into the continuing interviews, the story climaxes with the full resuscitation of the deceased, who at the end of the video gives his testimony.

Skeptical western biases aside, I’ll confess it a fascinating testimonial. Because irrespective of the veracity of this resurrection, we all readily admit that to witness a human return from the dead (after three or four days and embalming) would be the most spectacular experience we can imagine, television lights or not!

Imagine then the utter shock of the eleven disciples of Christ when the Deceased suddenly appeared in their midst! The four gospel accounts ignore human incredulity with the simple narrative of Jesus’ resurrection, as a matter of fact and history. And over two billion Christians this Easter weekend joyfully assent to those four testimonials, “He is risen!”

And because he is, we cling to the resilient hope and promise of a resurrection yet future. With our lists growing of those we love who sleep in death, may the Christ of the empty tomb revive our faith, ignite our hope, compel our love, and infill our lives. “Even so, come, Lord Jesus.” Amen.

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The tornados that swept through, to the south of us a few days ago, leaving vast swaths of devastation and death, also left behind a collection of stories for the ages. Like the one about Latonya Stevens who heard the thunder and lightning in the distance, ran for her four children, but mysteriously passed out—and when she came to, the roof was gone, and so were three of her children—who were found up to a hundred feet away, with only cuts and bruises and a story to tell for the rest of their lives! Not so fortunate another young mother, Stephanie Decker, who was at home with her two children when the deadly twister struck their three-story brick house in Marysville, Indiana. Her husband, a high school math teacher, had been texting her to get the children into the basement. She texted back that the whole house was shaking. And then no further messages. Turns out Stephanie had spotted the tornado moving across their acreage toward the house, had tied both children to her and each other with a blanket and then instinctively threw herself on top of the children as the tornado exploded into their home. When the mayhem passed, the house was collapsed. The young mother was pinned, her legs crushed by the fallen debris. Neighbors called for help, a deputy sheriff applied tourniquets, she was rushed to a local hospital, then airlifted to the University of Louisville hospital, where it was determined she had lost both legs, one above the knee and the other above the ankle. And the children? Unscathed. Saved by their mother’s sacrificial action. Said her husband, “‘I told her, “They’re here because of you.’” (South Bend Tribune 3-6-12) Which, as it turns out, is true of all of us, isn’t it? We’re here because of the sacrificial action of One who threw His body over us, “who loved [us] and gave Himself for [us]” (Galatians 2:20). We’re here because of Calvary, where Christ Jesus lost more than His legs in saving this world. But the tornado? The ancient narrative of Job describes how the adversary of the human race (ha satan) harnesses the fury of the wind to destroy human possessions, human life—“and suddenly a great wind came”  (Job 1:18, 19). The great winds of a tornado offer precious little time for preparation—sometimes only split seconds. Moments earlier life was copasetic—and then suddenly the world is upside down. The point, like a tornado, is inescapable. Those who survive the fury of the wind are the ones who monitor the signs, who in a time of storm maintain heightened alert, who have in place emergency preparations for the eventuality. Through ancient Ezekiel God issues this fourth watch alert: “Thus says the Lord GOD: ‘A disaster, a singular disaster; behold, it has come! An end has come, the end has come; it has dawned for you; behold, it has come!’” (Ezekiel 7:5, 6). Like a tornado! Which, of course, is the other point. Because “like a tornado” means you never really know. If you live in Tornado Alley (as all of earth’s inhabitants now do), you must live in prepared expectancy. To live unprepared is to spurn the gift of the One who lost more than His legs to save us from the impending storm.

Poor God—He isn’t faring very well in American politics these days. The President recently mandated contraceptive insurance coverage, and the Roman Catholic Church rose up in arms, vociferously complaining that such an insurance policy would infringe on Catholic belief that contraception is contrary to divine will (never mind that a majority of American Catholics practice birth control). President Obama then offered a compromise for contraceptive coverage, but (as with most compromises) few are happy. So did God win or lose this skirmish? Last weekend Republican presidential candidate, Rick Santorum, decried the President’s “phony theology” of environmental policy as being contrary to Holy Scripture. This after Santorum (himself a Roman Catholic) had inveighed against the administration’s earlier contraceptive insurance proposal. So whose side is God’s theology on? Then this week Franklin Graham, the son of Billy Graham, was pointedly asked whether he considered Obama a Christian or not. Graham skirted the question—“I have no idea what he really believes.” And what about Mormon presidential contender Mitt Romney? Graham was less equivocal in stating, “Most Christians would not recognize Mormons as part of the Christian faith,” though Graham assured his interviewers that he believed Romney would be a “good president.” So in God’s estimation what is a “good president?” Who knows for sure? But then, who’s surprised at the level of “God injection” into politics and the presidential campaign this year? Roman Catholics (68 million) and evangelical Christians (90-100 million) are a major voting block that politicians must court. This last week’s news cycle simply reveals candidates doing what they do best, openly playing to the constituencies they are wooing. But if the heart of God is courting all His earth children—evangelicals, Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, atheists (you know the menagerie that the world has become these days)—then how important is it that the press and the government (at least in this nation) not be swayed by the most religiously well-heeled or the most spiritually out-spoken? After all, history reveals that in a national crisis how quickly the lines between a free press and a dominant religion can be blurred—how quickly government can be harnessed by majoritarian faith to order its citizens to accept their decretals. And who wants to relive that history! So let us watch with deepening interest the unfolding presidential campaign. Keep a score card of how often God is invoked for political or party purposes. Avoid a cart blanche acceptance of any leader’s pronouncement (religious or political). And exercise the carefully reasoned thinking that God has given you. In the end Jesus’ counsel is unassailable, “Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:21). That way you’ll never mistake the voice of Caesar for God.

Would you like to know who in America receives the most Valentine’s Day cards every single year? Sweethearts, lovers? Mothers, fathers? Children, classmates? Pastors? (Oops—pardon that Freudian slip.) Who gets more Valentine’s cards than anybody else? Give up? Answer: teachers. It’s true—our beloved school teachers receive more cards than any other category of recipients. So all of you elementary education majors—look what you have to look forward to! Actually retailers look forward to Valentine’s Day, too. According to the National Retail Federation, total spending for this “holiday” (celebrated not only in this country, but also in Canada, Mexico, the United Kingdom, France, Italy, Denmark, and Australia) will reach a whopping $15.7 billion (with men spending nearly twice the amount as women)! Let’s face it—love is never cheap. One billion cards will be sent worldwide, making Valentine’s Day second only to Christmas. $1.7 billion will be spent on flowers (200 million roses were produced for Valentine’s Day last year). $1.5 billion on candy ($1 billion of which is for chocolate alone). Anybody surprised? But here’s another love statistic to brood over: one. That’s right—one. Because that’s the number of people in the upper room that fateful night who had love on His mind—not love for a sweetheart or even for His closest friends, but a solitary love for this race of broken-down and broken-hearted. No flowers, no chocolates, no Cupid’s arrow through the heart for Him—just the form of a slave, stripped naked to the waist, stooped over twelve pairs of dusty feet with a basin of water and a towel. “Now before the feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that His hour had come that He should depart from this world to the Father, having loved His own who were in the world, He loved them to the end” (John 13:1). “He loved them to the end.” Because that’s the truth about the heart of God—stopped—not with Cupid’s arrow—but with a Roman lance. Stopped—not by a lance—but by love. To the very end. So that the end wouldn’t have to be the end for the likes of you and me. So why wouldn’t we love Him back? With all our hearts. To the end. Or until they stopped. For the One.