Sunday, April 23, 2006

The Love Of His Heart


Song of Songs 2:11-17
The Man: Look around you: Winter is over; the winter rains are over, gone! Spring flowers are in blossom all over. The whole world’s a choir—and singing! Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios. Lilacs are exuberantly purple and perfumed, and cherry trees fragrant with blossoms. Oh, get up, dear friend, my fair and beautiful lover—come to me! Come, my shy and modest dove—leave your seclusion, come out in the open. Let me see your face, let me hear your voice. For your voice is soothing and your face is ravishing. The Woman: Then you must protect me from the foxes, foxes on the prowl, foxes who would like nothing better than to get into our flowering garden. My lover is mine, and I am his. Nightly he strolls in our garden, delighting in the flowers until dawn breathes its light and night slips away. Turn to me, dear lover. Come like a gazelle. Leap like a wild stag on delectable mountains!

Some friends of mine decided to get married. They figured their enamor for one another was reason enough to get hitched. They selected this passage from the Song of Songs which talks about love and passion as their wedding text. At this point, they had much to learn about each other, about love, about marriage, and about God.

Besides the fact that they're dear friends, what makes their wedding so very memorable to me is not so much the wedding itself. Rather, it's the rehearsal dinner. Or should I say, the aftereffects of the rehearsal dinner.

Once the groom arrived at the rehearsal, (an hour late, he had to finish his round of golf...you see what I mean about having much to learn?) we got started and things began to go much more smoothly. Fun was had by all as we practiced the steps they would take down the aisle. And as two people in love should do, they looked deeply into one another's eyes and practiced the vows they would say the next day in that same spot, with a whole lot more fanfare and pomp.

As I tell every couple I'm going to marry, "Look, as long as you both show up tomorrow, and I show up, we can always grab a couple of witnesses off the street and still have a wedding. Everything beyond that which goes smoothly is gravy. If the cummerbunds all match, if the dresses all fit, if all who are supposed to show up actually show up--that's all gravy...a bonus. What will live long after tomorrow is not the wedding, but the marriage."

In literary terms, what we're talking about here is called foreshadowing.

It was the chicken. For the rehearsal dinner, we had these very nummy baked chicken breasts. We were in a dimly lit room, candles glowing, champagne flowing and as I cut into my chicken breast, I thought I noticed a slight shade of pink, indicating to my father-who-is-a-butcher-trained eyes the chicken was not fully cooked. And if you know anything about uncooked chicken, you know better than to eat it.

I convinced myself that such a fine restaurant would make sure the chicken was fully cooked. In fact, not only did I eat one under cooked chicken breast...I went for two.

And it was around two in the morning that I realized the error of my ways as I made my way rapidly through the dark to the bathroom to purge myself of the poisonous food I had ingested. In fact, I kept on purging until around nine. It was an early afternoon wedding as I recall. I was beginning to question my ability to perform my friend's wedding. By ten, I was able to hold down a can of Coke. A quick burst of caffeine and sugar energy, giving me the illusion of strength. I gently gulped down a couple of more cans and voila. I deemed myself ready to perform the ceremony.

The wedding went off without a hitch. The groom was on time. I'm certain he'd have been offed by some member of the bride's family, if not the bride herself had he been late. I made it through. I was only woozy a couple of times, but a deep breath or two and I was fine.

Their marriage started off in the middle of a spiritual winter. It was faced with challenges. In fact, the wedding itself almost didn't happen because of a late groom and a very ill pastor. The winter which faced their marriage was bitter and foxes were hungry and roaming, ready to pounce.

Some say the Song of Songs is about God's example of how a love relationship ought to be: passionate, caring for one another, and filled with love. I think that's probably true.

Others say it's about God's relationship with us. Does it weird you out to think that God wants to have a passionate relationship with us? It kind of did me at first. Until I started to grow deeper in my relationship with God, I had only the agape love understanding of God. Agape love is that sterile "I love you in God's way" kind of love we used to joke about as kids. It's an altruistic love which serves the other, not the self. Agape love is only a subtle shade of God's love.

The Song of Songs speaks in the terms of eros love. It is the love of passion. And I believe that God is passionately in love with us. Read the passage from the Song of Songs again, but this time, hear God saying the words of The Man to you and respond back to God with the words of The Woman as your prayer.

God: "Look around you! Winter is over; the winter rains are over, gone! The dark times of waiting and wondering are past. Spring flowers are in blossom all over. The whole world’s a choir—and singing! Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios. Lilacs are exuberantly purple and perfumed, and cherry trees fragrant with blossoms. Oh, get up, dear friend, my fair and beautiful lover—come to me! Come, my shy and modest dove—leave your seclusion, come out in the open. Let me see your face, let me hear your voice. For your voice is soothing and your face is ravishing. I want to hear from you. I want to hear your voice. I want to hear about your day. I want to know your fears and calm them. I want to hear your hurts and soothe them. I want to see your dreams and help you to realize them. I want to dance through life with you, every day a celebration. Won't you talk with Me? Won't you share your heart with Me...give it to Me?"

You: "Then You must protect me from the foxes, foxes on the prowl, foxes who would like nothing better than to get into our flowering garden. You are mine, and I am Yours. Nightly You stroll in our garden, delighting in the flowers until dawn breathes its light and night slips away. Turn to me, dear lover. Come like a gazelle. Leap like a wild stag on delectable mountains! I would gladly give You my heart, but I am afraid of the foxes who prowl, waiting to pounce upon me when I am vulnerable."

God: "I understand your fear, dear one. Yes, the foxes are out there and they are always ready to pounce. But as long as you walk in our garden with Me, their attacks will be nothing in the face of My love for you. The Evil One is always waiting, watching for any sign of weakness. And he will continue to prowl in the bushes, trying to distract you from Me."

You: "I will try. I will try to surrender my fear to You, dear One. I will try to trust in You only as we walk together in the garden. And I will try as well to talk more with You."

God: "That is good to hear."

You: "I have a question for You, Friend."

God: "Yes, My dear one."

You: "Why is the winter so long? Why do you allow the foxes to prowl?"

God: "That's two questions. But I will answer them because I love that we are talking. Why is the winter long? Because it teaches you to trust Me. It teaches you that our love for each other must be strong enough to carry us through the winter times of life. It teaches you that our love cannot simply delight in "good feelings." Your love for Me must go deeper than that. To be faithful when times are tough is true faithfulness. To be faithful when we delight in one another isn't that difficult is it? And why do I allow the foxes to prowl? Because I know our love is stronger and because I allow you to choose. It's quite a powerful gift, isn't it? The gift of choice. But without it, your love for Me wouldn't be love, would it? I must allow you to choose the path of the Fox, or the path that I have prepared for us to walk on together."

You: "You must trust me an awful lot."

God: "It is because of my passionate love for you, dear one."

You: "I love You."

God: "I love you, too."

Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Easy to subscribe!

Friends,
I just wanted to bring to your attention that it is now possible to subscribe to this blog very easily by going to the right side of this page, entering your email address, and then clicking on the link which will get sent to your email. The blog will then be emailed to you each week when it is posted. Your email address is not given out to anyone or sold either.

Just trying to make it easier!

You are blessed and highly favored by the Lord, our God.

Pastor Shane

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Obvious Questions...Obvious Answers


John 21:15-20
After breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?"
"Yes, Master, You know I love You."
Jesus said, "Feed My lambs."
He then asked a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?"
"Yes, Master, You know I love You."
Jesus said, "Shepherd My sheep."
Then He said it a third time: "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?"
Peter was upset that He asked for the third time, "Do you love me?" so he answered, "Master, You know everything there is to know. You’ve got to know that I love You."
Jesus said, "Feed my sheep.

My son comes up to me. It's 6:17am. Me? I'm in my pj's, crazed hair, bleary eyes, desperately seeking coffee, thoughts hurtling through my brain at the extraordinary rate of one per hour. It is in this severely deprived state that I am accosted by my young son.

"Dad, can I have some chocolate?" he asks hopefully.

I start to answer "Sure, whatever." But then the reality of what he has asked settles into my sub-cortex and I become aware of the circumstances which I will face if I allow the chocolate (certain death by clubbing at the hands of my spouse). And so I say something brilliant like: "No, wait. No chocolate."

I have caught him just in time. But he is persistent. And he has the advantage. He is alert. I am not.

"Dad, how about some cookies?" He asks the question non-chalantly, making it sound as if he's asking for a bowl of fruit or a plate of okra. The inflection in his voice is misleading. The cookies almost sound nutritious to me in my haze of slumber.

Again, I falter for an answer, and just in time, I realize the question and the appropriate answer and simply murmur "No."

Ah, but the child is both persistent and patient. He waits for me to settle into a chair. He waits for my brain to begin to nod off once again into sleepy-land. If I were truly aware of my environment, I would notice the sunlight glinting off the drop of spittle hanging from the little fiend's fangs. He is crouched, waiting to pounce upon his poor, unsuspecting father with another precarious question, which, if answered incorrectly, will land his father in deep doo-doo with mommy.

Hold...hold...his muscles are taut with the energy of the pounce. He is ready. I am not.

"Dad, could I please have some chocolate milk?"

Now, any alert parent knows the obvious answer to this question. "No, of course you may not have chocolate milk...for breakfast!" It's a no-brainer. A duhhhh!

But I was not ready for the attack. I was caught unaware. I heard the polite "please" which the nice boy said, and I heard the word "milk." Somehow, my brain missed the "chocolate" part of the request. "Sure, whatever." I responded somewhat incoherently. My son, very excitedly, said, "Thanks, dad!" And he rushed off to pour his cereal...with chocolate milk.

After a while, I stumbled into the kitchen to make my morning cup o' joe. I gathered my mug, the coffee and a pot-full of water and began. Within just a couple of minutes, a freshly brewed pot of extra-strength mud awaited my consumption. Light would not penetrate the depths of this coffee. I dug out a few hunks, plopped them into my cup, and began to chew on my morning brew. As the sweet java began to course through my consciousness, the haze began to recede and I turned to see my child--my darling sweet child...er ahhh...monster, look at me with eyes that said, "You said I could do this. And I'm tellin' mom." Sugar-coated loops of fruit, bathing in a bowl of chocolate milk. I would be a dead man, as soon as mommy learned of this lapse of parental judgment.

Obvious questions with obvious answers.

The same was true with Jesus and Simon Peter in the little exchange we have in the last chapter from the story of Jesus' life as told by His youngest disciple, John. Jesus asks Peter obvious questions. "Peter, do you love Me?"

You can see the puzzled look on Peter's face as he wonders why Jesus is asking such an obvious question. The look says, "Okay, what's the catch? You know I love You, Jesus." After waiting just a second to see if he can see what Jesus is up to, Peter answers, "Duh. You know I love You, Jesus. Why are You asking such a silly question?"

So Jesus, being His ever playful self, gives a rather cryptic answer. He says with a glint in His eye, "Feed My lambs." Can you see the way the corner of Jesus' mouth is upturned, a little grin forming there as He waits for Peter to get it.

But Peter ain't the sharpest tool in the shed. He leans forward just a bit, squinting through confused eyes at Jesus, thinking to himself, "Lambs? I didn't know You had sheep." You can just about hear the crickets chirping in the background as Peter sits there confusedly looking at a grinning Savior.

But Jesus is persistent. And He asks the question again rather non-chalantly, examining the fingernails of His left hand. "Peter, do you love Me?"

"Oh!" Peter grunts in frustration to the obvious enjoyment of Jesus. Peter sits there, wondering what's going on. Why is Jesus acting so weird? Why is He asking such stupid questions? And as Peter sits there wondering, his ire rises within him and he answers, rather frustrated, "Hello! Jesus, You, of all people, know that I love You. Why do You ask?"

Jesus just grins openly this time. And He sits back on His haunches, enjoying the confusion on His friend's face. He waits before He answers with His enigmatic response, "Peter, shepherd My sheep."

And Peter sits there, still wondering about this illusive flock of sheep which he didn't know Jesus possessed. Peter actually begins to retrace their footsteps to try and figure out where this flock of sheep resides. Was it back in Galilee? What about over in Nazareth where Jesus was from? No matter how much brain he puts into it, he still can't figure out what Jesus is up to. He knows it should be obvious, at least it seems that way by the manner in which Jesus is both asking and answering. Peter is getting impatient and frustrated.

Ah, but the Savior is both patient and persistent. And He asks a third time, "Peter, do you love Me?"

"Arghh!" Peter lets out with a cry of pent-up frustration. "Jesus, after all we've been through...after all the places we've been, the demons we've kicked out, the sick we've healed, the imprisoned we've set free...after all this, You have to ask if I love you? You know I love You. Why do You have to ask me three times?"

This time, Jesus smiles a rueful smile as He waits for the words Peter has uttered to sink in. A moment spanning eons passes by. You can see the realization slowly creep down Peter's face. Tears well up in his eyes as he realizes that Jesus, His Savior, has asked Him three times if Peter loves Him.

The Savior gave Peter the chance to retract each of his three denials by proclaiming his love for Jesus. There is an oft misunderstood and under-fathomed word for this.

Grace.

Obvious questions, with obvious answers to reveal what Jesus would like for His sheep to be so very obvious: His Grace. It is what Easter is all about. It is why Jesus died and rose again, dear friends. Grace. Un-warranted and un-merited love. Extravagant in nature. Wild. Untamed. Unrestrained. The passionate eros love of our Savior for His rather dim-witted sheep.

And out of His Grace, comes our charge: "Feed and Shepherd My sheep. Take care of them. Love them, as I have loved you. This Grace I extend to you, share with My sheep, Peter." And then Jesus grinned, you just know it. And He opened His arms for a hug. Peter sees the scars, a tear begins to form from sorrow and shame, but then he sees the grin, and the tear turns to joy as he embraces his Savior in a Peter-sized bear hug.

The question for you today is obvious, isn't it? Friend, do you love Jesus?

My prayer for you is that your answer is equally obvious.

Be WILD For Christ!


Pastor Shane

Thursday, April 13, 2006

The Path Of The Cross


Good Friday
John 19:30
"When Jesus had received the wine, He said, 'It is finished.' Then He bowed His head and gave up His Spirit."


Today is Good Friday. And every year, a question comes to mind for me: what's so good about it? I follow the steps of Jesus that day and the evidence of goodness seems lacking. Nails, thorns, a rough-cut cross, a whip, taunts, injustice...where is the goodness? Can you understand this? Can you? I'm not sure I do. What does it feel like to be whipped? I'm thinking the pain would be worse than any of us has known. Strips of leather, quite possibly with shards of glass or pottery or rock knotted into the ends swung through the air with brutal force against the bare skin of a person's back. Imagine someone smacking you on the back with their hand. Doesn't feel good, does it? Imagine those little strips of leather and broken shards shredding the skin of your back. And not just once, but again and again. Most people pass out from such pain. Some die.

But the pain didn't stop there. What does it feel like to have a crown fashioned from thorns forced over your brow? Try to imagine it. Close your eyes right where you are at this moment and try to feel the pain of inch-long thorns gouging into the thin layer of flesh surrounding your skull. You can feel blood trickling through your hair, down your forehead, the saltiness of its crimson flow stinging your eyes. Again, pain like you've never known.

But it didn't stop there either. Now imagine that you've been whipped, stripped, crowned, and beaten, and they thrust a cross upon you which probably weighs more than two hundred pounds. The wood is rough. It's not at all smooth and shiny like the crosses we wear around our necks. Splinters splay themselves out from every inch of the rude symbol of our sin-cleansing. And exhausted already from the abuse you have endured, this monstrosity is thrust upon you, splinters digging into your already bloodied back. In and of itself, this would be more punishment than I can even imagine...than I can really comprehend. My brain doesn't even know what to do with this painful information...let alone that which comes next.

After you have stumbled and fallen several times, you feel a brief moment of relief as a man helps you carry your cross the rest of the way up that horrible hill. But all too quickly, the relief passes, and you're there. Once there, you lay your cross down. You are grabbed roughly. All throughout, you are being teased. You look around, and you see the faces of your closest friends in the crowd. Is there any hint of recognition in their eyes? Do they even still know you? If so, they do not act like it. There is nothing showing on their faces that they are...were...your best friends. You are shaken from this moment by the rough, war-scarred hands of soldiers who thrust you onto your back...onto your cross. Again, the splinters do their work, tearing at the torn pieces of your bloodied flesh. One of your wrists is grabbed, thrust against the rough wood. You see the glint of metal as the hammer is raised, poised to pound the spike between the bones in your wrist...forcing them to bend wider to let the spike through to its home in the rough wood of the cross. A loud clink rings out. At this point, I wonder if there is still pain? I wonder if by this point, the pain center of your brain has stopped functioning? If there is mercy in this world...maybe. Likely not. It's likely that the worst is yet to come. At least there is a significant gap between the bones in your wrist through which the spike may pass. But then you remember, that once your wrists have been affixed to the cross, your ankles come next. Your other wrist has been attached. Somehow, it wasn't as bad as the first. You knew the pain. But then you feel rough hands grab your ankles, overlap them and...

A cry escapes your lips ripping through the sounds of the taunts of the crowd, piercing the darkness of the sky.

Is this remotely what Jesus felt? Again I ask, where is the goodness in Good Friday? Why did this happen?

Why? I'm not sure I understand what the motivation was behind this?

The only way possible is when I think of my children. I would do anything for my children. If I knew that my children were headed to Hell, I would go anywhere, endure any pain...carry any cross and even be nailed to it so they would not have to endure that torturous eternity.

The Father saw His children and knew the Hell to which they were headed. And the heart of the Father broke for His children. And so the Father came to the earth as the Son to walk amongst His people...to know their pain...feel their loss...celebrate their joy...and then be nailed to a cross.

What is good about today? The love of the Father for His children. As you walk the path of the cross tonight, remember the profound love the Father has for you. Jesus, God's Son...who is one with the Father, walked that path that day, enduring the unimaginable pain we have tried to imagine here, carrying His cross, getting nailed to it...because of the love of the Father. For a brief moment, His humanity cried out. But His divinity remembered its purpose: to save His children.

Through the cross...the rough-cut splintery cross...your life has been spared. But now it's up to you...what's your choice? You are called to a choice today as you walk the path of the cross. Will you give your heart to the God who laid down His life for you? Will you worship Him? Will you surrender all? Will you accept the sacrifice that has been made on your behalf?

Each one of us has known pain. One of the gifts of Good Friday is a God who knows pain. Jesus endured pain like most of us will never know, praise God. Through the path of the cross, not only do we receive the ultimate gift of salvation. But we also receive the empathy of Jesus—of God whenever we hurt and endure the unendurable.

As you contemplate your existence today, remember: the path of the cross has been walked for you.

Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane

Monday, April 10, 2006

Do You Get It?


John 13:2-8
"Jesus knew that the Father had put Him in complete charge of everything, that He came from God and was on His way back to God. So He got up from the supper table, set aside His robe, and put on an apron. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the feet of the disciples, drying them with His apron. When He got to Simon Peter, Peter said, "Master, YOU wash MY feet?"

Jesus answered, "You don't understand now what I'm doing, but it will be clear enough to you later."

Peter persisted, "You're not going to wash my feet—ever!"

"Jesus said, "If I don't wash you, you can't be a part of what I'm doing."

Calculus was almost the death of me. I was in advanced mathematics courses all the way through middle school, junior high, and then into senior high. First there was algebra in 8th grade, geometry in 9th, higher algebra in 10th, elementary functions (trigonometry and pre-calculus) in 11th, and then, the crème de la crème of high school math: calculus.

Mr. Swenson was our teacher. And truly, he wasn’t really a teacher. He was a purveyor of information. He was a college professor who would come to the slums…er ah, to our high school and teach one course. Just one. Calculus.

Ugh.

He would walk with the dignity of a British lord as he marched into our classroom. We met just a couple of times each week for one hour. He looked rather like Winston Churchill. Mr. Swenson was a bit pompous and aloof. To this day, I don’t know if he came to our class to convey information from on high or to inflict great pain. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Out of a classroom of twenty-three teenagers, maybe two really wanted to be there. I’ll bet you had them in some of your classes as well. They’re the ones who actually could speak Klingon, knew the limitations of dylithium crystals, and could tell you the maximum velocity which could be reached on “impulse power.”

They loved math. And not only did they love math, but they adored calculus and they got it.

I’ll never forget that class. Because as each day in Mr. Swenson’s class would go by, it seemed another person would get it. You could almost see the lightbulb turning on over each person’s head as they got it.

Sadly, not everyone did. I managed a passing grade. But the lightbulb moment never came for me.

I didn’t get it.

Neither did Peter. Over and over, the disciples just don't get it. They're standing right next to the Savior of the Universe and they don't get it. Daily they’re walking with the One who created the Universe and they don't get it.

They're with God Himself. And they don't get it.

There are times when I read these passages and I think "duh!" How do you not see who this Man is? How do you not see Jesus for Who He really is?

I think it has to do with the fact that maybe God wasn't done revealing Who He is. There was more about Himself that needed to be shown to the disciples so they could tell the world...so they would be motivated to tell the world and not just a few of their buddies. One of the final revelations to the disciples happens in this scene.

Jesus wants to show His disciples the true heart of His Father. He wants to show them His Servant heart. He wants to show them what true Godliness is.

Here, we see God as the Ultimate Servant.

In this scene, we see the Almighty God, humbling Himself before His friends to serve them. The Omnipotent God sets aside the Majesty we think of when we think of God, and redefines the word. True majesty is to serve out of a heart of love. But Peter doesn't want this. He doesn't want Jesus to serve him because he doesn't see himself as worthy. Because Peter, of all the disciples, was the one whom I think came the closest to getting it. He had a glimpse. Peter went to the mountain top with Jesus and saw Him shine with bright light. Peter walked on water with Jesus. Peter had an inkling of Jesus’ divinity and thus felt unworthy to receive the gift of His service. But unless Peter experiences what it is like for God Himself to serve him, he will never be a part of the great works of God. Because for God, it's all about a servant heart.

If you can right now, take off your shoes and socks and take a look at your feet. Feet are kind of weird. We keep them covered up all of the time. We hide our feet from the world. They're smelly. They're funny shaped. They're even kind of embarrassing. Most of us are pretty ticklish on the bottom of our lowest appendages. Feet seem sort of silly, and at the same time, there is an intimacy which is associated with our feet. I think this intimacy is part of the point. Because servanthood is intimate.

Now close your eyes and imagine Jesus kneeling in front of you. He kneels there all-mighty, all-knowing. As He kneels in front of you, He sees the depths of your heart in this moment. He knows with what you struggle today. He knows the burdens you have been carrying. He knows the sins you've tried to hide. He knows the shame you bear. He knows...and there He is, kneeling before you, this Almighty God, King of All Kings, Savior of the Universe--there He is, kneeling to serve you. He wants to wash your feet. How does it make you feel to know that God would kneel before you and wash your feet? Does it humble you? Does it shame you?

I must confess to feeling both of these. I feel humbled to know that God loves me this much. But I also feel ashamed because I know that I have not knelt nearly enough at the feet of others to serve them. And in this, I deny the true nature of the Father.

This Servant knelt in the dust to wash your feet, and then rose and carried our sin and shame upon His cross. He made our feet clean to show us the heart of the Father. He made our hearts clean upon His cross so that we will one day see the Father face-to-face.

God was willing to kneel at the feet of His children to teach them to kneel before others. God was not just willing to do this...He had to, because, after all, that's Who He is.

If the occasion were ever to arise, I would with all humility, kneel before Mr. Swenson and wash his feet. An unlikely event…to be sure. But wouldn’t it be just like Jesus to make it come about? That’d be pretty cool.

God bless you, Mr. Swenson. I hope I have the opportunity to serve you someday.

Be WILD For Christ!

Pastor Shane

Monday, April 03, 2006

The Throne Of God


Revelation 22:1
"Then the Angel showed me Water-of-Life River, crystal bright. It flowed from the Throne of God and the Lamb, right down the middle of the street."

This Sunday we commemorate Palm Sunday, the day Jesus returned to Jerusalem. It's often referred to as His "triumphal entry," or His "victorious entry." The parade route was lined by all the people of the town that day. I imagine there were salesmen, hawking their wares. Items of food being sold. Maybe they were even selling the very palm branches which were used to usher in the King?

I can imagine parents trying to corral their riled up children. I can imagine people setting out straw mats instead of aluminum folding lawn chairs on which to sit, to save their places right along the street. Oh and watch out! Don't you dare move their mats one inch! Their seats along the parade route are saved! It's a rule. Parents are corralling children, giving them little bites of parade-route goodies to feed their excitable souls and keep them occupied until the start of the parade. The pickpockets are out. Hey, wherever there's a good crowd of people, there's money to be made.

I wonder what the powers-that-be were thinking that day? "Who is this King?" they would ask with disdain. "Yes, we shall see...we shall see. And when we do, this upstart had better watch out. We will see who holds the real power." Little did they know.

As this is all going on, there is a scene just outside of town. Jesus has sent a couple of His buddies to go and fetch a foal of a donkey. Not even a grown donkey, mind you...a foal! There is no marching band...no visiting celebrities and dignitaries riding in convertibles. There is no parade-route manager with a clipboard, walking up and down the lineup, making sure all of the floats are in place. Just a humble Jesus, and His ragtag group of friends.

The anticipation was building. People were not only excited because a parade was breaking up the routine of their lives. But they were also excited because they believed that finally, God had sent them a King to rule over them. A King of the Jews. A Messiah. A Savior.

People filled the streets to see the coming of this King. In their minds, they saw a majestic man, in flowing robes, coming down the street in a chariot of gold to return to a magnificent jewel-encrusted throne.

That's not what they got.

Imagine their surprise when they saw Jesus on the foal of a donkey. Imagine their surprise when they saw this lithe, lean Man, muscular from many hours of carpentry work, coming down the street with no armed escort, but instead, His disciples.

There is a word we shout each Palm Sunday. It's the word "Hosanna!" Yes, the exclamation point is needed here to help convey the passion of the word. It was shouted that day along that unlikely parade-route. But I have to wonder if it was shouted at first. As the tension in the air built to a feverish hum, the silence straining forth from expectant onlookers, the one exhibit, if we can call it that, rounded the corner and started to come down the street.

Nervous whispers.

"What? You've got to be kidding." a person asks the guy next to him.

"Is this it?" asks another.

"How can this Man, riding on a foal of a donkey be our King?" asks a woman, despair hanging on the edges of her words.

But then it happens. Jesus happens. As He begins down the parade route, some begin to notice His serenity. They begin to sense the terrible power which lies within this peaceful Man. They feel His authority emanating from Him as He passes.

And so one bold person, rather hesitantly and haltingly, somewhat quietly, and yet hopefully shouts: "Ho--sanna..." People nervously look around at each other, seeking the approval of their neighbors, finding the same questioning looks on their faces. Someone else shouts the word again: "Hosanna." This time, it's more forceful...more expectant. And then, like two drops of rain, birthing a flash-flood, the parade comes into its own. Palm branches are waved. Tears flow from hopeful eyes as all the people gathered there that day shout from their hearts: "Hosanna!"

For you see, my friends, Hosanna means: "God save us!"

That day, Jesus, the King of all Kings, entered Jerusalem. But it took Him a almost a week to get to His throne. What throne? You ask. On Good Friday, we celebrate the enthronement of the King of Glory. Jesus went to the cross, His throne, willingly as good kings do. He went there knowing the weight of the crown He would bear. He went there knowing the consequence of the responsibilities He would carry. He wore the mantle of His own blood, the crown made of thorns. He carried the scepter of the spike pounded through His flesh. And He was enthroned upon a piece of carpentry which He never would have made in His profession as a carpenter.

And yet He did make that cross. Jesus is One with the Father. Jesus made the foundations of the earth, the earth itself, and everything upon it. He is the reigning King of Glory. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, in Him and through Him all things were made…even the cross.

This King, this glorious crucified King crafted His own throne with His gentle, calloused hands. There is majesty in this, although not in the way we think of the majesty of most kings. There is glory in the throne of the cross. But it is much different than the royal glory of which we think.

The majesty and glory of King Jesus and His throne come from the heart of a Servant-God.

Today, wherever you are, kneel at the foot of the throne of Jesus Christ. Place your life before your King as an offering to Him. As you kneel, remember that the throne upon which Jesus sits exists because of your sins and my sins, and the sins of this world. From this throne, the Scripture says, the Water-of-Life River flows. Eternal life flows from the throne of Jesus, from His cross where He bears the responsibilities of His Kingship: the sins of the world. Kneel before the throne, today, the cross of Jesus, and commit your entire life to Him, to praising and worshiping this glorious King who shatters all of our notions about what true glory is.

Hosanna! Hosanna to the King of Kings!

Be WILD For Christ!

Shane Burton