it's a family thing

Let’s play a little guessing game, shall we? After his resurrection what message does Jesus give Mary Magdalene to report to the disciples? Yes, you can cheat and look in your bible (John 20:17) but be prepared, it’s pretty awesome and a detail I never paid much attention to—until now.

. . . [Go] find my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.

In the past, I really hadn’t thought too much about those above words. But lately when I’ve read the resurrection story, I’ve been amazed by something. The very first message Jesus has for his disciples is all about relationship, namely ours, with his God and with his Father. 

Not only that, but when Jesus gives Mary the message he tells her to “go find his brothers” rather than referring to his followers as disciples or even his friends. Brothers and sisters signifies a deeper relationship, a stronger bond. It’s what Jesus’ mission and purpose were all about—to bring us back into the family, God’s family. 

You see Jesus had the right to call God his Father. The disciples knew that. They got it. Who could perform such miracles and preach with such authority unless God was truly with him?

And though in the beginning humans had the privilege of calling God our Father that relationship came undone in a garden. Think about it. God walked with Adam and Eve. He talked with them. He laughed with them—gave them gifts and things to do. In other words, they had a relationship. But as time marched on that bond began to unravel.

Adam and Eve got kicked out of the garden and that was just the beginning of the sad story about how we lost our Father—how we lost our God. Over time we fooled ourselves into thinking that God was a distant deity living in a land far, far away.

But when Jesus gave that first Easter message, we see what his whole calling, his whole purpose in life was about. He wanted to find God’s lost kids, namely you and I, and bring us home. 

. . . [Go] find my brothers and tell them that I am ascending to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.

I bet Jesus gave those instructions to Mary with a smile on his face. He had done it! He had reunited God and his children. Everything he’d come to do, every miracle he’d performed, every word spoken, the suffering, the cross, and now the empty tomb all led up to this miraculous event, Jesus brought us back into the family.

So when you sit in church this Sunday, and I hope you’re able to, don’t just skim over this central part of the Story letting it get lost in all the seemingly more important details. Don’t be deceived into thinking the instructions Jesus gave to Mary are trite and insignificant. Listen to them. Let them sink in. Jesus brought us back to God. Jesus brought us back to our Father. 

It’s the best family reunion ever and it gives me goose bumps just thinking about it. Hope it does the same for you. Happy Easter!

He is not here.

Matthew 28:5-7 The angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.' Now I have told you."

He is not here; he has risen.

I traveled up to my hometown this past weekend. It was my niece’s confirmation and I wanted to be there for the important occasion and celebration. On Saturday, in between preparations, I slipped away to take a walk to the cemetery where Mom and Dad are both buried.  As I made my way along the path, a sort of sadness overtook me. And as I stood at their gravesides, I waited for the tears to come. But they didn’t.

He is not here; he has risen.

In the midst of my sadness a jolt of hope entered in. I remembered this well-known verse from the Easter season--a reminder from God and a promise: my parents weren’t there anymore either. Mom wasn’t there in that grave. Not the true part of her. Dad wasn’t either. They were gone to a much better place. Because of their faith in Jesus, my parents are very much alive. In a beautiful and perfect place that I can’t even begin to imagine.

He is not here; he has risen.

Yesterday morning, my little girl asked how old Grandma Toie is. Not how old she was when she died, but how old she is now. It would have been so easy to say, ‘Well, honey when she died she was seventy.’ And I nearly found myself saying those very words to her. But a small smile came to my lips and I realized that the faith of my child was strong and sure. Grandma Toie is very much alive. ‘She’s 71,’ I said. Satisfied with that answer Katie went back to eating her bowl of cereal. Then I asked her a question, ‘Do you suppose they celebrate birthdays in heaven?’ And we all agreed that, yes, they must.

He is not here; he has risen.

The other day, I told a story about when I was a little girl and did a very silly thing. Mom had made mint chocolate brownies, my favorite. One afternoon, while she was visiting with some of her friends, I snuck into the kitchen and found them and proceeded to eat half the pan. Half. When I had finished telling her the story, my daughter got a twinkle in her eye. “Mom, I can’t wait to get to heaven because I’m going to tell on you.”

“Tell on me?” I asked, “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to tell Grandma Toie that you ate all those brownies.” Then she skipped off happy as could be in the knowledge that someday she would get to “tell on me.”

He is not here; he has risen.

Because Jesus lives, we also will live. Death will not have the final say. Someday, it will be swallowed up in victory. During this joyous Easter season may we, with child-like faith, trust and believe this most important message:

He is not here; he has risen.

Easter Miracles

What I wanted to do yesterday was to write something inspiring or thought-provoking about Good Friday. 
But, alas, my children had other plans for me.  Then, miracle of miracles, when we got home today, they, of their own volition, took themselves to their rooms and fell asleep.   It is an Easter miracle; one day early, mind you, but I'll take it!

Which leads me to today's topic; miracles.  I have to confess something right here and now.  The fact that I am still a Christian, that I have faith in Christ's saving work is a true miracle.  Here's why.  A few days ago, I wrote about the nature of my fickle heart, how easily I can be tempted, even moved to follow the wrong path.  But, after all these years, I still believe something that I believed as a child.  Namely, that Christ died on the cross for me and rose again to give me new life.  Now, I know myself well enough to say I don't believe many things for my entire life.  For example, when I was a child, I used to eat spaghetti without sauce.  I believed the sauce was "icky."  Now, if you gave me noodles with no sauce, I'd turn my nose up at it.  These days, I think broccoli is the best vegetable.  A few years from now I may have moved on to brussel sprouts (highly unlikely, but I'm trying to make a point here).  Or take, for example, when I was in college; I believed Christian music was annoying.  Now, it's about all I listen to. 

My tastes, beliefs, perceptions about the world, about life, are always changing.  But not my belief in Christ.  This belief, this story has stayed the same in my heart all these years.  It's never changed, it's never wavered.  It's been a beacon of hope guiding me along life's paths.  So, how is it that I have come to believe the same thing that millions of other Christians around the world have believed for centuries.  How can my  fickle heart be so faithful to this creed?   I've two words for you - well, three actually; The Holy Spirit.  If nothing else is proof of God's being real, the fact that Christians, for centuries upon centuries, have believed exactly the same thing, is enough for me.  We didn't make this stuff up.  Who would?  A man dying on a cross to save the world from its own self-detruction?  But, we do believe.  And that, to me, is the biggest sign that all of this is true. 

If God had not been at work in my life, I wouldn't have kept the faith through all life's ups and downs.  Trust me.  There have been times when I have wanted, like crazy, to stop believing.  But, somehow, I haven't.  And it isn't because I'm such a dedicated follower.  I would have stopped following a long time ago when the going got rough.  That, to me, is the greatest testimony to the truth of scripture - the truth of God. We believe because he's revealed himself to us.  We keep on believing because he keeps us in the faith.  And should we ever turn our backs on him, he will never turn his back on us. He believes that the sacrifices he made to buy us back were worth it.  His heart isn't fickle.  So somehow, when it comes to faith, he's kept mine from being fickle too.  A true Easter miracle.  Oh yes, and the kids are still asleep; I'd say I experienced a double Easter miracle today.