Ebenezer means "stone of help," and was the name of a monument raised by the prophet Samuel, saying, "Thus far has the Lord helped us." (1 Sam. 7:12) The hymn Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing includes the line, "Here I raise mine Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come." Through God's grace you and I have made it to today. Our job is to praise God for getting us here and trust him to bring us through tomorrow.






Friday, February 26, 2016

A Stark Choice



Luke 23:42  "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

In 2010 I gave a guest sermon for Good Friday.  I took as my inspiration a feature of the church we were attending – three crosses made of steel beams and holding up a bell.  I related this to a set of three crosses standing on a farm near where I grew up, and to such trios of crosses I had seen elsewhere across America over the years.

My question was this:  What would a non-Christian think of this symbol?  What do three crosses standing together signify to someone whose understanding of our faith is limited to what they hear in popular culture?  Moreover, how many people in the pews on any given Easter morning really understand what is meant by three crosses clustered together?

I like to think that most people relate the cross as a Christian symbol.  Would three crosses confuse them?  Would they think we worship three gods?  If someone had heard of the idea of “Trinity,” might they think there was a tie-in here?  Or maybe they might think that three crosses are simply better than one.
 
Greencastle Church of the Nazarene - photo by Becca Sampson
Of course, three crosses represent the story of Christ’s crucifixion, whereby two criminals were executed on either side of him.  (Luke 23:32-43)  One the criminals mocked Jesus, while the other defended him.  The two criminals, in many ways, represent all of the human race in our relationship with God.

First of all, each of us has sinned.  We all have rebelled against the laws of God.  We are all, therefore, in need of forgiveness, as judgement awaits us otherwise.

From there, however, the similarities end.  In the face of God’s existence a certain portion of the human race sneers and mocks.  To these people, even the certainty of death cannot overcome their flawed human selfishness and arrogance.  One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’”

Yet others realize their frailty and their fault, and seek humility from within themselves and mercy from God.  “‘Don’t you fear God,’ he said, ‘since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.’  Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’”

It is a stark and simple choice.  One leads to death, the other to life.  One comes from our human brokenness, the other stems from our yearning for grace.  One is a dead end, the other an open door.  This Lenten season, let’s remember the words of the penitent thief, that we might be assured of mercy, just as Jesus answered on that fateful day: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”