Playing Sublimely

They had just witnessed Him divide the waters in two.  The cloud of His presence which had been guiding, had moved behind them, and become a beautiful barrier between them and their enemy which threatened to enslave them again.  The enemy didn’t know the Israelites’ God had come for freedom, permanent and guaranteed freedom.  He came to set captives free.  He always would.  He was their complete protection.  Salvation came to their flesh on this earth, and was but a whisper of what was to come for their eternity.  But now three days had gone by.  Three days.  And they were hungry and thirsty.  They didn’t look beyond the temporal growl of their stomachs to take note of what their true need was.  ”Oh if we were only back in Egypt” they cried!  What a wound that must have been to the heart of the their Rescuer.  The One that did the saving would also do the providing, and so He rained down manna from heaven to provide for their daily needs.  Thin flakes of frost appeared beneath the dew and they collected their daily bread each morning.

He commanded the skies above and opened the doors of heaven.  He rained down manna for the people to eat, He gave them the grain of heaven.  Men ate the bread of angels.

Psalm 78: 23-25

Hundreds of years later Jesus stood beside the Sea of Galilee.  The crowds of people followed Him to the other side of the lake, because the day before He had miraculously fed all of them with nothing more than a small boy’s lunch.  Their hearts had not changed much in 1,500 years.  They were still that same group of wandering, grumbling, hungry, seeking people; and now they came face to face with the One who could and would provide them with every last need they had.  And their request?  Give us the manna from heaven like our father’s were given in the desert.  Give us the temporal!  Give us what we want in the here and now!  They didn’t know they were looking at the One who wanted to be their fulfillment for all eternity.  They too, couldn’t look beyond their stomachs.

And so we hear the first of seven statements Jesus would make about Himself.  These seven statements can change our lives if we will allow them to penetrate our hearts, and not just our stomachs.  Jesus boldly claims divinity by beginning His sentence with “I Am”, and here He follows this first statement with “the Bread of Life.”   I am the true bread of life.  I am the One who can fill your need.  I am the One my Father was hinting about in the desert when He opened the doors of heaven and rained down manna.  That was just practice.  Practice for when the Father would open the throne room door of heaven and rain down the Son himself, who would fill us with righteousness.  But all they desired was bread.

Just when I begin to pitty those nearsighted Israelites, God asks me a question.  ”Amy, what do you hunger and thirst for?”  I know what the right answer is, Jesus tells what our correct response should be.  Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.  But I don’t think He asks me the question because He knows that I am aware of the correct response.  I think He asks the question because He knows I tend to hunger and thirst for the simple and plain bread of the here and now…way to much.

Jesus tells us, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.”  He says, “I am the bread of life.”  If we would hunger and thirst for Him, we would never walk away wanting.  He promises to fill us with Himself.  So, what are you hungry for?

I tell you the truth, anyone who believes has eternal life. Yes, I am the bread of life! Your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness, but they all died.Anyone who eats the bread from heaven, however, will never die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever; and this bread, which I will offer so the world may live, is my flesh. John 6: 47-51

I knew people somewhere were celebrating.  It was 10:00 am Easter morning, but here, the Metro was stagnant and lonely.  The doors rattled as the train shook over the tracks.  It seemed hollow.  It was hollow in many ways.  Empty.  A few people spoke harshly to my girls in pigtails because they were standing on the left side of the escalator.  You’re not allowed to stand on the left side of the escalator.  That lane is reserved for people in a hurry, the people that have no time for little girls in pigtails who are excited to be getting on a train.  The people that have no time for a smile.  The people that have no time for A Risen Savior.  I was sad.  The monotone voice announced overhead the next stop, and a few of us stood and waited for the train doors to open and release its’ prisoners.  I was thankful.
As we left the underground tunnel and made our ascension to fresh air, I was certain we would hear the rocks crying out, but they were still and silent, and I smiled.  The trees were rooted in truth and stood obediently before their Maker, but they too were quiet, and so I knew.

They didn’t have to cry out, because people somewhere were celebrating.  His name was being exalted somewhere other than in my heart.  Somewhere in churches across this land, there were people rejoicing that His tomb is empty.  Somewhere they were worshiping the One that came and conquered what we could not.  Death has lost its sting, and it was indeed a happy day, regardless of what the underground train said about Easter morning.  An empty tomb is more powerful than an empty Metro.  Hallelujah.

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!  Luke 24:1-5

We love the sun shining on Easter morning.  Little girls in spring dresses, and boys in bow ties.  It’s neat and tidy and white gloves seem appropriate.  Our finest attire, for Sunday’s finest morning.  I do it as well, and it’s good, it is the finest of days.  But.  But if we skip too eagerly to that morning, that morning which is indeed glorious, if we jump ahead without examining Friday (or even the days leading up to Friday) we miss the beauty of the battle.  We cheat our souls if we jump straight to freedom, without looking at the battle He fought that won the victory. 

Hidden in one word, light flashes a glimmer of clarity on the battle lines being drawn in the sand.  One word reveals to us that armies were preparing, all that was good knelt behind the One whose time had come; and all that was evil circled and could smell a false victory.   Embrimaomai.  This was the word used to describe Jesus standing outside the tomb of Lazarus.  The NIV attempts to explain by saying Jesus was “deeply moved in spirit and troubled”.  But if we sift this word down to its root, we find it means “to snort with anger”, to have “indignation towards”, “to charge, to sternly rebuke”.  Jesus, on this radically holy day, this dress rehearsal for what would soon come on the cross.  This, His boldest of claims to be The Resurrection and The Life, Jesus stared at what the penalty for sin was…he stared down death and faced His foe, and He snorted with anger.  Jesus, the One full of grace and wisdom and mercy, perfect and Holy, full of the Father’s love and power, approached the tomb of His beloved Lazarus and snorted with anger.  The time had come.  What we see in these verses is a battlefield.  Save your flowered dress for Sunday morning when the victory celebration is appropriate, today though, cloth yourself in armor.  This is war.

Jesus stood outside the dead man’s tomb, the tomb sin had sealed.  He commanded, “Lazarus, come out!”.  The dead man listened.  People don’t stay dead when Jesus calls their name and demands they live.  Death is the Anti-Christ to Jesus and to Life, and when Jesus faces off against it, He does so with embrimaomai.  Death is not taken lightly, it’s war, and He conquered it.

Just as the tomb is rolled out of the way for Lazarus to exit it, so too is Jesus’ tomb rolled away Easter morning.  It is finished.  The battle has been won.  Love conquered death.  Your armor can now come off and our swords may be slid back in their sheathes.  Now it is time to put on your party dress, and honor the One who all glory is given.  Hallelujah, He is risen!  He is risen indeed.  Let’s celebrate.