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Inside the mountains
I see fire
Burning the trees
I see fire
Hollowing souls
I see fire
Blood in the breeze'
- I See Fire, Ed Sheeran
Holy Week is approaching and I want to dwell on the passion of Christ. I want to look to the cross. I want the weight of what Jesus has done to sink in. I want to walk through the week praying 'be thou my vision'.
We have victory. We have freedom. We have redemption because Jesus walked through the flames. Endured suffering. Experienced humiliation. He walked through the fire of the cross to show us this truth among many: He is walking with us.
Every day is a fast, every moment one of longing for our Savior who will make all things new.
As children are used for personal gain.
As women are abused by the sting of patriarchy.
As men are dehumanized by cultural expectations.
All of us know it, all of us hear it: this world is moaning and groaning with pains of exploitation and realities of starvation and a yearning of reconciliation and a longing for restoration.
Maranatha.
Holy Week, the last week of Lent, is approaching quickly. Some will attend liturgical services while others will casually meet in homes for table fellowship. There are those who will write out prayers and those who will participate in meaningful traditions. As diverse individuals we each celebrate the coming week differently but as a unified body we all set our eyes upon Christ, for it is He who brings us all together, He who the week revolves around, He who began a movement of restoration and reconciliation and victory over death and sweet liberation from the brokenness of this world.
Lent ends on Easter Sunday in which there is great celebration of this truth, a great rejoicing in response to what Christ has done, for His resurrection was not exclusive but rather inclusive. Through His resurrection, we are set free.
Freedom does not come easily, however. Victory does not come without struggle. Suffering comes before relief. Death comes before resurrection, before renewal of life.
Christ had to walk through the hell of night before the joy of Heaven came in the morning.
He walked through the fires. He endured the cross. He experienced the ultimate shame.
Eyes fixed. Heart yearning. World groaning.
Maranatha.
As Holy Week approaches, I see fire.
The cross is heavy and weighty and messy and convicting. His experience was terrible and horrific and passion-filled and incomprehensible. On the cross love was displayed, blazingly bright and zealously blinding.
The ultimate picture of grace.
Here's the irony of it all: fire doesn't only destroy.
Fire refines.
This is our message, that in taking up our crosses as Jesus took up His we are refined. We are made new. We are forgiven and liberated and restored and redeemed.
And oh what great irony, what great grace that in His suffering, through His steps taken through flames of death and crucifixion that we should receive life! In His carrying of the cross a broken world receives an invitation to be restored!
It's like this: this life is hard. Each of us has his or her own shortcomings, each of us is sinful and in need of grace. We all experience trials. The very ground beneath our feet is crying out, and we're groaning right along with it.
We have a hope. We have an invitation to refinement, a call to restoration.
He knew no sin, yet He became sin. He knew no death, yet He took on death. He knew not hell, yet He walked through fire.
So that in this life, in the midst of our own struggles and sorrows and fire-filled days, we may have a Savior who sympathizes with us.
And with each step, we are refined. On our own we would be consumed, eaten away and burned right up. With Christ, however, we are made new. As we take steps of faith, gaze upon our Savior, our faith is made stronger. Each tribulation contains potential for perseverance. Each trial contains opportunity for growth. Each past death offers an invitation for a future resurrection.
We have hope through Christ.
We have freedom in His name.
For we know that no matter what troubles may come, no matter what pain might come in the night, joy will absolutely come in the morning.
Lent ends with a great celebration, a great observance of the resurrection and victory that comes through Jesus. It's a reminder of what we experience now as well as a reminder of what's to come.
The kingdom is both here and to come.
Before we get to Sunday we must walk through the week. We must follow Him to the cross, and not during the seven days but all the days of our lives.
Every day we must live the messy. Each day we must get dirt under our nails. Today, tomorrow, and every day we must walk through flames, enduring the weight of the world and bearing with one another in deep-founded love.
And as we cry out with one voice 'Maranatha!' as we proclaim 'Lord, come quickly!' we faithfully await the return of our King.
The King who loves. The King who restores. The King who redeems. The King who refines. The King who renews. The King who, in all of His glorious splendor, became the Suffering Servant, became a ransom for many. The King who poured out His life on the cross. The King who flipped everything topsy-turvy when He overcame death. The King who began a new movement of saving humanity. The King who poured out His love.
A love that awakens my millennial heart, because it calls me to passionately and authentically pursue Christ. Calls me to spend my life for the sake of loving other people. Calls me to be real and genuine and I'm all about that life.
A love that sets a burning light deep down in my soul.
A love that many waters cannot quench.
A love that is a consuming fire.
