Where Will You Go for Him?

Easter weekend begins in two days with Maundy Thursday. First comes the night of solemn remembrance, then the day of agony, and finally the morning of joy.

How many of these emotions will we really feel?

Will we come to church on Easter just to "go through the motions," reserving our real enthusiasm for the big meal afterwards? Will we grumble if it rains this Sunday and the only available parking spaces are four blocks from the church? Will we act as if God owes us a perfect day as a reward for showing up?

Many people do all of the above. Not all that surprising, considering that they act the same way on "ordinary" Sundays--and through the rest of the week. From the attitudes of many Christians, one would think that Jesus had said, "I have come that you might live free of trouble, and have all the possessions you want." (What He really said was, "I have come that [you] may have life, and have it to the full. [But] in this world you will have trouble" [John 10:10; 16:33, NIV]). Although few of us would dare state outright, "I owe God nothing, and He owes me everything," our everyday lives say clearly that we believe as much.

Part of the problem is our difficulty with focusing our attention where it belongs. We pat ourselves on the back for being law-abiding citizens and forget how much evil lurks within us. We wear crucifixes as jewelry and never give a thought to the cruelty and agony of that death. And we recite John 3:16 by rote without once considering how unbelievable, how utterly unreasonable, it is that God should love the likes of us even a little, let alone to the extent of enduring what He did--and that His love should continue even though the majority of us respond with appalling ingratitude. That includes those of us who said "yes" to His offer of salvation but whose favorite daily prayer is, "What have You done for me lately?"

If we truly appreciated what He has in fact done for us, we would be more than ready to do anything for Him.

He stumbled down that fateful road
And up that looming hill,
And bore that heavy wooden beam,
All of His own free will,
Among a jeering, cruel crowd
And to a fate so grim:
He went the road of death for you--
Where will you go for Him?

And though a whip had ripped His back
Until His blood ran red,
Though nails had pierced His hands and feet,
And thorns had pierced His head,
And though His throat burned raw with thirst--
Pain wracked His every limb--
He gave His very life for you--
What will you give for Him?

There was no power in all of hell
To stop Love's perfect plan;
There was no power in death itself
To hold the Sinless Man.
When evil's might had done its worst
And brightest hopes burned dim,
He rose up from the dead for you--
Will you rise up for Him?

In Remembrance

Yesterday, the United States celebrated Memorial Day, honoring members of the U. S. Armed Forces who lost their lives in the line of duty. Even those who oppose all war on principle--or any individual war in particular--do well to remember kindly those who have suffered for the belief that freedom is important. (As one military wife said, "My husband is also defending the right of his fellow Americans to say rotten things about him.")

The day before Memorial Day--and on many another Sunday throughout the year--many of our churches celebrate a far more important memorial as we follow the Scriptural command to "do this in remembrance of me.... whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes" (1 Cor. 11:24, 26, NIV). While we associate "dying for freedom" with struggling to the end, Jesus won the decisive war of all time without once striking back at His attackers. Only by willingly absorbing the worst that the full force of evil could do, could He free others from the evil that enslaved them.

Not everyone who has died for his country has done it with true love or courage, or in a truly honorable cause. But when Jesus died for the world, He displayed the ultimate example of all three. Only by remembering that--and regularly reminding ourselves of its truth--are we prepared to serve Him in love, courage, and humility.

There were twelve men surrounding the table,
And the Leader, Who stood at the head,
His eyes full of love and of sorrow,
Spoke blessing and peace on the bread;
And He said, "Take this loaf as My body,
To be broken so all can be free;
From now on, when you think on God's mercy,
Eat the bread in remembrance of Me."

His death set us free from sin's prison;
His light warms a world dark and grim;
So let us, as we sit at the table,
Take the bread in remembrance of Him.

There were twelve men surrounding the table,
And the Leader took juice from the vine;
His eyes full of love and of sorrow,
He prayed as He poured out the wine;
And He said, "Take this cup as a covenant,
As My blood spilled so all can be free;
From now on, when you think on God's mercy,
Drink the wine in remembrance of Me."

His blood cracked sin's chains that enslaved us;
His gift fills life's bowl to the brim;
So let us, as we sit at the table,
Take the cup in remembrance of Him.

There were few who stood near through His suffering,
When our Savior hung there on the Cross,
Where, eyes full of love and of sorrow,
He prayed for a world that was lost;
But soon hundreds would rally around Him,
As He rose so the world could be free;
And He left them His words for the future:
"Do all this in remembrance of Me."

His sacrifice, freedom, and blessing
Are for us no less than for them;
So let us, as we think on God's mercy,
Eat and drink in remembrance of Him.