The chartered bus was waiting at the curb. Nathanael jumped out of the car and ran toward the bus, suddenly stopping half-way between. “Where’s my wallet?” he asked, half speaking to himself and half pleading with mom and dad to find the answer. “I had it in my pocket in the car and now it’s gone.”
“You have to have your wallet, Nathanael,” I replied, “It has your driver’s license and you need I.D.”
“I know, I know,” he muttered, tearing the back seat of our car apart, searching for the wallet.
Maureen and I jumped into the fray. The clock was ticking. The bus was supposed to be loaded and on the road in five minutes. The Highland Singers were on their way to Orlando to take the stage at DisneyWorld in a national choral competition; Nathanael was slated for a solo competition there, too. Aw-ugh-man-oh-man, where was the wallet? “Are you sure you had it in your pocket?” “Yes, mom, I’m positive,” Nathanael rolled his eyes. The tension—the desperation— was palpable.
“I found it!” Maureen shouted, “It was wedged in between the door and the back seat.” Nathanael grabbed the wallet and ran. The lost had been found. All was well. In a moment, everyone’s attitude was changed. Hope restored. Life resumed. And, oh yes, he ran back and gave us a hug.
We’ve all experienced the frustration of losing something—something really important. Everyone who wears contact lenses can testify to that (just ask me). But there are even more traumatic losses than a contact lens or a wallet. Or even a house. Or even a loved one.
When you lose hope and a sense of better days tomorrow, you lose everything. Life has no prospect of contentment or joy left, when there is no hope. When a dream is lost—and no new dream comes to life to take its place … when the anticipation of something wonderful is taken away and there is no hope of receiving it back … when the shadows close in and all seems to be lost … well, that’s when we surrender to despair and resign ourselves to a desperate end.
And that, at its core, is the story of the crucifixion and burial of Christ. A sense of overwhelming loss, with a capital “L”—and no reasonable, imaginable, or explainable hope of finding Him again. No more bright moments on the hillside overlooking Galilee, listening to the unmistakable Voice describe the lilies of the field. No more astonishing miracles of healing and calming the storm. No more breathtaking gifts of forgiveness. No more stories that disclose the heart of a God we were learning to call, “Father,” and no more of the unforgettable teaching like the Sermon on the Mount. Gone. All gone. He’s gone. Never coming back. Hopeless. Lost.
On that first Easter Sunday, though, the Lost was found—He was found, alive. And with Him, all of the hopes and dreams and truth He inspired. Healing. Forgiveness. Understanding. God’s favor. Life. They all came back with Him. We couldn’t imagine how or why, all we knew was that He is. He is alive.
That’s worth celebrating. The same enemy that sought to rob Jesus of His life—and to rob of us of the life He brings—is hard at work stealing and deceiving and discouraging today. That adversary is forever seeking to deny the reality and power of the Resurrected Lord. Satan wants us to grovel in the loss; he wants us never to find.
But, this Easter, once more, the Madison Park Church will proclaim the truth of Jesus being found, alive. Whatever your trouble, whatever you have lost and believe is locked in a tomb, whatever grave you think has claimed your dream, whatever despair you have called home, we are here to bring you good news: “He is risen.” Jesus has triumphed—and with Him, we can, too. Jesus B lost, for a few days, anyway. And then, Jesus B found. His story can be our story. Lost. And found.
Bring a friend. Invite a row-full. Fill up those empty seats in our Main Auditorium. This Sunday. Easter. March 23. At 9:00am and 10:45am: two services, just alike. With a 53-piece orchestra. Music made in Heaven. The preached Word. The sweet fellowship of the Holy Spirit. And the celebration of life and hope found. For everyone who will hear.
You can live without your wallet. And your contact lens. And your coat. And even treasured relationships. But, you cannot live without hope and the life it brings. That’s the Easter story. Our first Easter at Madison Park. Don’t miss it. See you then.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
Interesting that you should describe the loss of hope and joy.
Your words here:
Life has no prospect of contentment or joy left, when there is no hope.
sum up my inner condition. Life is an endurance track, with little to alter the course.
I will be there on Sunday - though the depths of skepticism prevent me from hoping for more than nice music and a good dinner.
Seems there is a huge disconnect from what happened on Easter, and what we experience today.
When you lose hope and a sense of better days tomorrow, you lose everything. Life has no prospect of contentment or joy left, when there is no hope.
When it is lost for twenty years instead of three days - life becomes a test of endurance. Hope is overshadowed with skepticism. Experience produces a cautious expectation of disappointment. Something beyond a nice sermon and well-performed music.
Still waiting....but not hopefully.
I could not have said it better myself.
It seems to me that a lack of hope is a lack of Christ, since Christ brought us our Hope of eternal significance and place in heaven. Without Christ, there is no hope, but with Him, we can have an eternal perspective on life, allowing us to see past our circumstances to God and His eternal love and care for us. I think in that light, there is reason to have Hope, even though one may not feel it.
Hi Don -
I have been praying about responding to your comments as they seem to be your heartcry, and I appreciate your vulnerability - it didn't seem right not to respond. Not knowing you personally, however, makes it more difficult.
When I have felt hopeless at times, then a church service isn't always an immediate help because I am not ready to be open to what is occuring - I am not prepared to join in the worship part of the service. Sometimes in those moments the sermon becomes meaningful as it addresses the pain that has caused my hopelessness - but not necessarily always. When I am in that place I usually need personal contact of some kind - either with Christiam friends in or not in a small group or from speaking about the cause of my hopelessness to a trusted and more mature Christian - whether a pastor or not - who can help me see God's plan in my issues. I guess I think we have to prepare for worship to find meaning in it, and our focus in worship itself, I think, has to be on giving back to God (and sometimes our brothers and sisters in Christ) rather than getting, even when my need is legitimate - and it sounds like yours is very real and legitimate. I don't know if this is helpful to your experience, but if it is like mine, I usually need to seek help with my issues before worship becomes meaningful again - regardless of the quality or style of the worship. I don't know if it is true of doubt specifically, but Biblically we are called to resolve interpersonal issues before lying our gift at the altar, whether it is our fault or the other person's (see Matthew 5:23 & 24 and Matthew 18:15-18, though I think there is a verse more similar to the Mt 5 verse connecting relationships and worship but I can't think of its "address". Sorry). We do call it a worship "service" as it is to be our service to God - to express our decision to love and praise Him, regardless of our feelings, and I suspect our service during the sermon is to be open to what is said from God's Word - or at least that is how I understand the worship service.
I am convinced intellectually that Christianity is true, so for me to follow the alternative is unthinkable - but that doesn't mean my emotions are always "on the boat" with me - sometimes I do the right thing, feeling it or not, for this reason and in faith that there will be emotional healing of my issues. I always hope for that in the short term, but we aren't fully sanctified in this life - some healing only happens in Glory - but not all and I think there is hope for some emotional healing in this life - but I have to be willing to seek it and for me, that involves being in God's Word and being around believers who help me apply God's Word to my life and issues.
If you aren't "feeling" the worship at the moment but worship anyhow, I do think God blesses that in some way - regardless of why you aren't feeling it. God honors our faithfulness even in the midst of doubt, I believe, though it may be a long term honoring and not always a short term one (though many times for me it has been short-term also - many times worshipping has provided me hope, but not because I expect it to necessarily). For me, really listening to the words I am singing does help me both to feel more grounded and yet to feel more free, and does lift me up most Sundays - but not always - but I am a music and words person - music is powerful for me and I am kind of a cognitive person - so the words I am singing are important to me - so I try to listen to them and see how they apply to me and how God has been faithful (or whatever aspect of God we are singing out) to me as I sing - for me, the Truth being affirmed does usually "lift me up" - but I can't go in expecting it to but instead expecting to praise God for God and not for me, because it is right - in essence it affirms faith because it is acknowledging that God is who He Is, and I am who I am (very small case!) - worship is admitting to God, and even thanking Him, that we aren't Him but He is. It is affirming the Truth of who He is and who we are and are not. I say/sing it because it is True, and in faith that the Truth will set me free - whether or not it is today or tomorrow - or if today that it is a process that only gets a bit there today. For me, remembering that I am not in charge brings hope because I mess so many things up - thankfully, it doesn't all depend on me.
It is probably obvious at this point that I am too into words... :-) ...but I hope something from my experience is helpful to you. I will be thinking and praying for you both on Easter and in the following weeks.
respectfully and with prayer,
take care......pam
THIS COMMENT IS NOT CONCERNING THE LOST AND FOUND BUT TO THE PEOPLE WHO ARE BOTHERED BY PASTOR TALKING ABOUT HIS HOME TOWN.(THESE PEOPLE NEED TO GROW UP) ALL OF US ARE BORN AND RAISED IN A CITY STATE TOWN SOMEWHERE THAT IS NEAR AND DEAR TO OUR HEART. WELL HAVE TIES, CONNECTIONS, ETC. TO THAT PLACE. AND WHEN YOU ARE OBEIDIENT TO YOUR CALLING SUCH AS THE PASTOR WAS THAT IS AND WAS A BIG CHANGE IN HIM AND HIS FAMILIES LIFE. IF HE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT SEATTLE SO WHAT. WE BELEIVE OUR PASTOR TO BE A MAN OF GOD. LOOK WHAT GOD HAS DONE THROUGH HIM AND WHERE OUR CHURCH IS TODAY. IT IS GROWING,IT IS BOOMING AND DOING FAR MORE THAN OUR IMAGINATION COULD HAVE EVER THOUGHT. AGAIN HE AND HIS WIFE BOTH ARE GIVING THERE ALL FOR THE PURPOSE OF MADISON PARK GOD IS WORKING THROUGH THEM THEY ARE STRONG PEOPLE AND WORKERS FOR GOD.
PS. MR MODERATER PLEASE DO NOT VANISH THIS COMMENT I WOULD PASTOR AND EVERYONE ELSE TO READ HE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT HE IS APPRECIATED
FOR HEAVENS SAKE
Post a Comment