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Easter has come and gone for another year.  But Easter will never fade for God’s people.  Think about the Apostle Peter, for instance.  He was a rugged fisherman called by Jesus to become one of his core followers.  He watched and experienced all that we read about in the Gospels.  He was at the heart of most of the action.  When it came down to it, he wanted to be there for Jesus.  When it came down to it, he couldn’t make it faithfully through the night.

Then things went from bad to worse.  Jesus was killed.  The disciples were in hiding.  Peter had not been able to say sorry for his denial of the man he so dearly loved.  Saturday passed.  Sunday morning came.  Women came to report that the tomb was empty.  Peter raced John to the tomb and that day he met the risen Christ more than once.  Surely in their private conversation, Peter would have expressed his heart to Jesus over what had happened?  Two weeks later, on a Galilean beach, Peter was given the chance to express publicly his love for Jesus.  He had failed, but he was not finished.

Every encounter with the risen Jesus must have thrilled their hearts, but before too many weeks had passed by Jesus returned to His Father and they waited in Jerusalem.  On Pentecost, it was Peter that boldly stood to declare what was going on.  Peter pronounced persuasively that the pangs of death could not keep hold of Jesus and he had risen from the dead!

Easter was very real for those who saw the real Easter.  And for a few weeks, their enthusiasm is to be expected. But surely the delight must fade?  Every event eventually fades, doesn’t it?  Not for Peter.

Fast forward over three decades and Peter writes a letter to some dispersed and discouraged Christians in Turkey.  As soon as he launches he is gushing about the reality of Easter again!  Thirty-plus years and his passion remains undimmed!  Peter could not help but write about the covenant mercy of God that led Him to cause us “to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead!”

Peter went on to write about that hope: an inheritance kept where it cannot die, be defiled, or disappear.  The heavenly hope was, for Peter, no “pie in the sky when we die” – it was a real and life defining certain expectation.  But the hope Peter spoke of was more than just the heavenly inheritance to come. It was also a present tense living hope.

How does the resurrection of Jesus shape our lives today?  What do we have as well as the hope that lies ahead?  Peter writes that we have perspective in the midst of challenging trials.  The suffering that besets God’s people now has purpose – it proves the miracle of our faith.  The suffering we endure now with faith results in greater glory to the God we look to in the midst of the trials.

As well as perspective, Peter writes that believers have an unexplainable love for Jesus.  Because he rose from the dead, Jesus is not simply the object of our nostalgia, like a spiritual Elvis or JFK.  Jesus is alive and that means that while we do not see him, we do love him.  As hard as it is to explain the hope that characterizes God’s people, it is even more difficult to explain the love that we have for Jesus Christ.  It is a first-rate spiritual miracle for a self-absorbed and incurved human heart to be turned inside-out so that it doesn’t hate Jesus (our natural condition), but loves him from the heart!

Finally, as well as perspective and love, the believer also has inexpressible joy.  When we see Jesus our joy will overflow, of course, but now, even though we do not see him, we rejoice with a joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory.  True believers suffer, true believers endure, but true believers are people of joy.  It comes from the perspective we have, it comes from the love that is birthed within us, it comes because Jesus has conquered the greatest enemy – death itself.

Since death is defeated we live, present tense, with a living hope, with victory-shaped perspective, with unexplainable love, and with inexpressible joy.  We live, present tense, because Jesus lives, present tense. Since death is defeated, Easter must not and cannot fade for us.

The post Easter Does Not Fade first appeared on Cor Deo.

This is another great post written by Huw Williams, pastor of the International Church in Torino and a close friend of Cor Deo. It was originally posted on Huw’s blog – well worth reading!

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We have a little girl who is very interested in signs. These days we cannot walk past a sign on the street without her asking, “Daddy, what does that sign mean?” (“Well, it means that you can’t go into that building site without a hard hat…“, “That sign means that you can’t take a dog on these moving stairs…“, “That means that you can’t park your car here…“)

It is easy to understand the attraction of course, signs offer the hope of communication in a world in which one hasn’t learned to read yet, and as an alien who is still not very fluent in the local language, I can relate well to that feeling. Signs are remarkable things when you stop to think about it – a large amount of important information can be communicated remarkably quickly to the passer by, through the non-verbal creativity of the humble sign-designer. For example, until my daughter caused me to stop and take notice of the list of signs at the bottom of the escalator at our local station, I would not have known that, not only is one forbidden from taking dogs on said escalator, one is also forbidden from walking, running, sitting, or standing with one’s foot too close to the edge of ‘the moving stairs’, as well as from boarding it in bare feet, or accompanying children without holding their hands. All in a few black and white signs, usually with a big red slash diagonally and dramatically drawn, and all decoded in seconds.

Signs demand a response and we ignore them at our peril. I must confess to walking (borderline-running, even) on an escalator before now, but now I know that I can’t go running to the station authorities if I fall over doing so again. Ignoring the red stop light at the junction by our house is not something I plan to do any time soon, and it would be likely to end in serious problems if I did.

And coinciding with this new awareness of signs has been our Wednesday evening study series in John’s gospel. John is very deliberate in his description of Jesus’ miracles as signs, and this is something we’ve given a lot of thought to. It seems to me that John is very conscious of the difference between seeing or even benefiting from a miracle, and responding to Jesus’s signs. In John’s gospel account we find examples of both – plenty of people accept Jesus the miracle-doer, but not everyone sees the signs and understand what they are communicating. Virtually everyone wants to see the extraordinary, but relatively few follow the sign to respond appropriately to the person of Christ.

And this is a tension we have drawn out for us especially at this time of year, when we think of the Messiah riding to his death in Jerusalem on a donkey, the question remains for us – what kind of Messiah do we want, what kind of Saviour are we responding to? – one of our own imagination, or the One he claims to be? When Jesus cleared the temple and was asked for a sign to show his authority, he didn’t refuse to give one, he rather defered it. [John 2] And so we have to ask ourselves, especially appropropriately as Sunday approaches, what are we doing with the sign of his death and resurrection? What response to the person of Christ is it drawing from us?

We ignore signs at our peril.

The post Signs first appeared on Cor Deo.

Actually, the earlier part of each Gospel is really an extended introduction to the Easter week. In Mark’s Gospel, for instance, we get to see Jesus repeating his intention to go to Jerusalem where he will be betrayed, beaten, and killed, before rising again. The disciples heard this multiple times. But they never seemed to hear him.

Jesus intended to die.

We live in a world brimming over with leaders who are prepared to tread all over others in order to achieve their own goals. We see leaders, who, when push comes to shove, will push and shove the very people they claim to be leading to get what they want. We understandably grow jaded with flawed leadership in the work world, in pop culture, and in politics.

Jesus was different. He intended to die. He came to Jerusalem with a plan and he followed it through to the end.

As we read through the Easter week we can get caught up in the swirl of narrative sub-plots and simmering tensions. The religious leaders plotted to kill Jesus. The disciples scratched their heads at cursed trees and talk of Jesus’ departure. We find that the tension is palpable, and it keeps on building.

Whenever we encounter a narrative like this, we are wired to identify or disassociate. Some characters will bother us. Others will draw us in and share their experience with us.

Who do you identify with in the Easter story?

Do you find yourself putting on the sandals of the deserting disciples, or Peter in his bold declaration of commitment followed by limp failure? Do you relate to doubting Thomas, or perhaps even the corrupt motivations of Judas the betrayer? Maybe you recognize something of power-hungry Caiaphas in your own smaller political sphere, or the outwardly powerful, but privately fearful Pilate – the self-protector?

Does your heart ache with Mary, or grieve at your similarity to the mocking soldiers? Do you see yourself in one of the shouting crowds? Can you relate to undeservingly free Barabbas, or the repentant thief?

Easter offers us many points of potential identification, but we must not miss the biggest and most relevant identification of all. Easter declares that God wanted to identify with you. Jesus intended to die, and he intended to die for you.

I’ve been pondering the twelve hours before the crucifixion:

In the upper room Jesus knew what lay ahead. John’s Gospel gives us chapter after chapter of Jesus’ concern for his disciples, his desire to prepare them for his departure and to pray for them to be kept by the Father.

In the garden of Gethsemane Jesus knew what lay ahead. He sweat great drops of blood and cried out to His Abba for another way if there only could be another. But ultimately, he wanted to do what His Abba wanted him to do.

When he was arrested, Jesus wasn’t looking for an escape route. He didn’t flee up the hill and over into the Judean desert. He stepped forward, stopped the beginning of a battle, and headed toward what lay ahead.

Standing before the most powerful man in Jerusalem – the father-in-law of the High Priest, Jesus stayed quiet. Annas was like a 1^st Century Mafia Don, and he wanted to get some sort of incriminating confession, but Jesus knew this was not the real trial. He stayed quiet. For that he was struck on the face. When he finally spoke, he quietly showed who was really in charge.

Jesus was passed on to Caiaphas and a rushed gathering of members of the ruling council. It was shambolic. They couldn’t get two witnesses to agree, and Jesus remained quiet. Eventually he was pushed to talk and he gave the High Priest what he wanted – a clear declaration of his position, using Daniel 7:13. They mocked. They struck. They blindfolded. Even the guards received him with blows.

The Sanhedrin had quickly assembled as the sun peaked over the nearest hill. This would be the quickest “official” hearing ever. Jesus didn’t slow them down. A quick quote from a Psalm and they were agreed again that he should die. Jesus never argued. He was led off to Pilate.

Pontius Pilate doubtless knew they would bring a troublemaker at some point, but Jesus was probably not what he expected. Pilate would have been used to cowering and jabbering prisoners pleading for their lives. Jesus was calm. Assured. It was almost as if Jesus was in charge, not Pilate. But this prisoner needed to be handled carefully. In fact, Pilate saw his opportunity to hand Jesus over to Herod and get rid of his problem. Herod had a track record of killing contemporary prophets.

King Herod Antipas probed, and mocked, and taunted. Jesus remained silent. More violence. He gave up.

Jesus was led back to Pilate. Jesus was innocent, Pilate kept asserting that. But the crowd on his doorstep troubled him. His superstitious background was stirred to hear that Jesus was a god. Try as he might, Pilate failed to release Jesus. A scourging. A prisoner release. A handing back. Nothing worked. Eventually it came down to Jesus or self. Pilate chose self.

Jesus was led away the short distance to be crucified. Innocent. Quiet. Beaten. Purposeful. Jesus intended to die.

And that is the identification our hearts must make again this Easter. He came to die, for me.

The post Easter, For Me first appeared on Cor Deo.