Where Are the Fish Biting Today?

I am by no means an authority on fishing; it’s not really a hobby of mine. I do know, however, that many factors go into determining where the fish will be biting today. The temperature of the water, the winds, the supply of nutrients, and other factors can all impact the fish. Fish tend to follow their food sources, so if you find what the fish eat in the water, then the fish are likely to follow.

From my work at NASA, I know that today’s commercial fishing industry is becoming more and more rooted in science. It’s not uncommon for fishermen to consult weather maps, ocean topography charts, and other data from satellites and other sources to help them try to maximize their chances of bringing in a good catch. But at the end of the day there’s still an “art” to fishing. You can go where the data tells you to go and still find no fish…

The men that Jesus encountered along the shores of the Sea of Galilee did not have access to sophisticated technology to track schools of fish, but I am quite certain that fishing the same waters day after day, year after year, gave them an intuitive feel for when and where to cast their nets on a given day. When they put down their nets in a given place, it was because they thought they had a reasonable chance of catching something.

Imagine then how you might feel if a non-fisherman standing on the shore presumed to tell you where to drop your nets? Imagine further that it’s already been a long and unproductive night of fishing. You are tired and would just assume call it a day. Would you listen to the suggestion?

Well, in John 21:1-14 we’re told that these seasoned fishermen did listen to the advice of the “stranger”. They knew Jesus, but John tells us they didn’t recognize him at first—they couldn’t see him clearly from where they were. It’s only when they pull in the huge catch of fish it becomes clear to them who was standing there all along. Peter swims to shore (vintage Peter here!) leaving the others to haul the boat into shore. They all sit down to breakfast with Jesus and not one of them asks: “Who are you?” It’s as if what they witness that morning along the shores of Galilee removes any lingering doubts they may have had about whether Jesus is really alive. (These doubts are very apparent in the disciple’s previous encounters with Jesus in Jerusalem after the resurrection—e.g., Luke 24:36-43; John 20:24-29)

I find it interesting that the disciples obey Jesus’ commands to “cast your nets on the right side” before they actually recognize Jesus in the flesh. It says something about having faith in and placing our trust in what we cannot see. I often think it was easier for the first disciples to believe because Jesus was there with them in the flesh, and maybe it was, but this is a good reminder that faith is never simplistic.

Just as these men have an instinctive sense for where the fish are biting, they seem to instinctively recognize Jesus’ authority—he commands not only the fish but the fishermen as well. And after this encounter, these rugged fishermen from Galilee leave their boats on the shores of Galilee once and for all and follow the Risen Lord where he leads them. After Jesus ascends and the Holy Spirit descends these men are sent forth to drop their nets on other seas and their labors lead to a huge “catch” for the Kingdom of God—all because they were obedient to Jesus, and put down their nets on the right side of the boat.

Who Was In the Boat?

The Sea of Galilee has been a source of life-giving water for the people of Israel for centuries. Over the years, many have also depended on its waters their personal economic wellbeing. Such was the case for a group of fishermen who lived along the shores of Galilee in about 30 AD. Fishing was not an occupation for the feint of heart; it was tough manual labor in that day; there were no automatic winches to help. The nets were hauled by hand; the boats required rowing.

Jesus meets these rugged men along the shores of the sea in their natural environment. They are doing the only work they have ever known—no doubt the work their fathers had taught them to do. As lifelong fishermen, their bodies were no doubt weathered and tanned from countless hours spent in the hot sun, their hands calloused from struggling with the nets, their aroma no doubt distinctive as perspiration mingled with the smells of the sea, their language brimming with local color. They were probably not unlike the workers that populate the neighborhoods where I live in Southeast Baltimore—down-to-earth, good-hearted, hard-working blue-collar workers who work hard… and play hard.

Luke tells a story of an encounter Jesus has with these fishermen—see Luke 5:1-11. He describes a series of events in these verses that culminate not just in a remarkable catch of fish but in life-changing experiences for these men. After this encounter, several of them will decide to leave the only career they have ever known to embark on a journey with Jesus that will take them to places they have never been, doing things these unschooled, ordinary fishermen never dreamed they would do.

How does Jesus connect with them? He categorically does not wait for them to come to the local synagogue—you’ll note he just left the synagogue. No, he goes out to them and enters their world. It’s clear from reading the text that Jesus already knows these men well before the events of Luke 5:1-11 unfold. He has observed them as they work; maybe he has even been out fishing with them. Perhaps it is in being willing to get his hands dirty with them that he gains their respect (notice Simon calls him “Master”) and has an opening for more...

From this group of men, Jesus handpicks several to embark on a new mission. They have spent their life catching fish, and now Jesus will train them to “fish” for men.

Where is Jesus calling you to “put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch”? Maybe it’s a place you’ve been “fishing all night” with nothing to show for it, or maybe it’s a place you never thought of fishing. The question is: Will you listen to the call and obey?

Called to Action—Responding to the Real Crisis

This weekend, clergy and laity from all around the Baltimore–Washington Conference of the United Methodist Church are converging on the Marriott Waterfront in Baltimore for our Annual Conference meeting. I will be one of those delegates. We will gather to worship, fellowship, and discern God’s direction for our Conference for the coming year. We’ll also vote for the delegates that will represent us at next year’s General Conference in Tampa, FL. This year one of the big themes on the agenda will be the Call to Action, a new denomination-wide effort to help revitalize our denomination.

Most of us will surely agree with the findings of the study that led to this Call to Action. We know that our churches face “a creeping crisis”… It’s hard to argue with what we see lived out every day in our local churches. We can try and pretty up the statistics but the fact is that our denomination (like other mainline denominations in the West) is declining. Many—though certainly not all—of our local congregations are shrinking and greying. We aren’t attracting enough youth and young adults into our midst to sustain ourselves.

But we also acknowledge that as we get older and smaller we are sorely tempted to conserve what we have rather than follow Christ’s example and reach out to the community and world around us. (In some ways, that’s just human nature and it’s hard to fight against.) We lack energy and vitality and we don’t want to take as many risks as we did when we were younger or there were more of us. Thus, we don’t always readily embrace new initiatives—like the Call to Action.

We tend to be skeptical of programs we perceive as being imposed upon us from “above”. We don’t implicitly trust that “The Conference” has our best interests at heart. These programs have an impact on real people in our churches, but sometimes it seems like “The Conference” can remain at a comfortable distance from that reality. When it comes to implementing these kinds of programs what works well in one church may not work well in another. But it is easier for the Conference to track “success” or “failure” of the Program when everyone is “scored” the same way.

The problem with that approach is that Christian spiritual formation (a.k.a., discipleship) was never intended to be a one-size-fits-all-Program but rather an organic movement of the Holy Spirit unique to every time and place.

So given all that, the skeptical reaction that some may have to the Call to Action is understandable. This is certainly not the first effort we’ve seen toward the noble-sounding goal of “revitalizing” the denomination and making us more “relevant”. In fact, to seasoned veterans of Annual Conference, this may just seem like the latest, greatest plan to recreate Acts 2 in our modern context and see the Spirit move powerfully in our churches like it did back then. Those who have been around have seen these initiatives come and go. The fanfare, energy, and enthusiasm at the beginning are usually hard to sustain in the face of the realities of our local churches.

The inertia of how we’ve always done things is one of the most difficult forces in the universe to overcome, and at times, it makes implementing anything more than incremental change and “band aid fixes” in our churches a near impossibility.

Another reason that these initiatives have struggled is that we’ve been seeking the wrong objective. I don’t think our quest should be for “relevancy” so much as it should be “making disciples for the transformation of the world”. (And I hope and pray “making disciples” is what ultimately motivates the Call to Action.)

In my mind, the biggest crisis facing not only United Methodists, but the Church Universal is not relevancy but rather discipleship.

Consider the Gospel of Matthew’s take on Jesus’ final words to his disciples before his Ascension—known as the Great Commission.

All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always even to the end of the age. —Matthew 28:18-20

We are called to reach out to all nations[1], and once we invite them into our midst, we encourage them to be baptized. Here, they make public what has already happened to them on the inside, commit to following the radical and counter-cultural Jesus Way, and seek the support of a community of believers.

You’ll notice the Great Commission doesn’t end with baptism. Sadly, though, it seems that in many cases our churches have forgotten the rest of Jesus’ command with perilous consequences for both church and society. If we do manage to add a few new members, they aren’t provided with enough opportunities to grow spiritually. They either stagnate or leave our church looking for a place that better “meets their needs”. The result is that we don’t grow our numbers, but more importantly, we don’t produce enough mature believers who in turn can train others to take their place and carry on the work of the Church in future generations.

Dallas Willard calls this phenomenon the Great Omission from the Great Commission and argues that the crisis of relevancy is really just a symptom of the deeper crisis of discipleship[2].

Baptism is meant to be the beginning of our life following Jesus—or at least it is our “coming out” party when we go public with our intentions. From there we have be taught to obey, which implies that it doesn’t just “come naturally”. We have to learn to live the Jesus Way in a world that is decidedly not living that way, and that’s nearly impossible to do alone. Left to our own devices we will surely drift toward the ways of the world around us. We human beings have a remarkable capacity to rationalize our self-centered existence, especially when we isolate ourselves from contact with others. When we enter into a community, we’re challenged to live with more awareness of the “others” in our lives.

This is why, in my humble opinion, the being part of a local church is so vital to our lives. We need our faith community to help sustain us. We’re dead meat if we try and live the Jesus Way on our own! Our churches should serve as places where we gather together for mutual support and encouragement in living the Jesus Way, and where we can practice living this way together—we might think of them as spiritual training academies. As we progress, we reach a point where doing what Jesus did—e.g., loving our enemies, blessing those who persecute us—starts to come more naturally to us. With practice responding as Jesus did to circumstances in our lives becomes easier—the “impossible” starts to become possible.

I hope that The Call to Action will help to make this vision of discipleship and Church more tangible and real in our world. As we begin to fulfill Christ’s Great Commission and make disciples of all nations, baptize them, and teach them to obey, the relevancy we seek will surely come.

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[1] To me, the modern interpretation of nations would mean crossing all “boundaries” to invite people of all ages, races, sexes, sexual preferences, political leanings, etc.

[2] The Discipleship Adventure that our Annual Conference has embarked on for the past seven years has been an attempt to respond to this deeper crisis.

Where I Have Seen Jesus Lately?

Some day you’ll come, darkness will cease.

True light will dawn, everyone will then see.

Everything new, we’ll finally see you.

Awaiting that day, searching for more.

While all along you are

found with the poor.

Help me to see that you’re all around me…

Our praises arise.

As we come to recognize.

Jesus is near.

Glory is here.

—“Glory is Here”, Michael Gungor Band

I ask myself in light of what I wrote in my previous post on the Ascension and "seeing" in new ways: Where have I seen Jesus lately? Recently I took some time to search for thin places where the veil between heaven and earth thins and God seems close to me. I came up with a few.

Holy Moments With My Wife. It was an extremely busy week for my family. A longtime member of one of our churches passed away, which meant that on top of all the normal activities, Laurie had a funeral to plan and participate in this week. But despite our business Laurie and I managed to get some good time together this week. Sometimes I think I see Jesus most clearly when I see him through my wife’s beautiful eyes.

Entering Into My Children’s Worlds. I’ve enjoyed playing baseball with my son Brady—who is playing T-ball this year. My getting down and entering into his world means a lot to him and—here’s the surprise—it means a lot to me too. I can tend to get caught up in all the tasks that have to get done around the house and disconnect from the people that actually live in the house. Growing up, this was what my parents tended to do; I won’t say they never entered my world, but it was less frequent then I would have liked. So I didn’t have a particularly good model of how to enter in to my children’s lives and my natural tendency is to do what comes natural: i.e., stay aloof. But I hope and pray that God my Heavenly Parent will supply what I lack and help me to enter in. Perhaps, in some strange way, there is healing for me in being able to supply for my son and daughter what I was not given.

And the effort must be working on some level and having a positive impact on my son. At practice the other night some of the adults were hitting balls to the kids. Brady was out in the field but when it came time for me to hit he said to his friends, “You better watch it. My dad can hit it very far!” While his sense of my athletic prowess is quite distorted, it’s nevertheless good affirmation for me, and it shows that the effort to enter his world is bearing fruit.

Simple Joys of Parenting. After T-ball practice last Wednesday I had what you might call a God-moment. Brady and Becca were playing at a playground with two other girls. At one point they were running through across one of the baseball fields and making piles of the freshly mown grass. They ran ahead of me enjoying the lovely May evening. As I watched them play without a trace of fear or concern, it felt really good—a little sliver of heaven making itself visible in this moment for my enjoyment. As the Sun set over that field, I found myself aware of the presence of God and thankful for the opportunity to be a parent. I think moments of clarity like the one I experienced that night help sustain me throughout the long stretches of mundane day-to-day parenting—and in life in general—that don’t seem particularly “holy” at all. Parenting is a very large responsibility; I won’t deny it tires me out and stretches me out of my comfort zone an sometimes I don’t respond all that well to being stretched. But then there are the moments when I am reminded of the incredible privilege God has given me to help him co-create two young lives.

In the Garden. One of our churches has a nice flower garden outside. Some people at the church offer their service to keep it maintained throughout the year. It is a true labor of love and a great gift for our church; the beauty of the place is a true blessing to me each time I walk past it. Beginning with the hardiest perennials popping through as soon as the snow melts (if not before), progressing through the summer, and lasting to the first killing frost, the garden offers up a place of ever-changing natural beauty. For the past couple of months I have made a practice of spending some time outside in the garden between Sunday School and worship. I sit on one of the marble benches and enjoy the natural beauty of the place and reflect, pray, journal, etc. I think it has been good discipline just to have some quiet time to reflect and prepare for worship. I think it makes my experience during “formal” worship more impactful when I have spent time ahead of it. Perhaps it “creates space” for God to enter my conscience when I go into the sanctuary inside. God is always there, but like a radio improperly tuned to receive the broadcast, I can miss the Presence if I am not tuned in.

At an Outdoor Chapel. We live in a parsonage—but not one owned by our two churches; we rent from a Lutheran church in our community. There is what I would describe as a small “open air chapel” at the rear of the church property. There is a little brick patio with two benches positioned facing a simple wooden altar and three stone statues showing different depictions of Jesus. If I stand at the altar I literally look into the eyes of Jesus on the cross adorned in flowing robes. Though the road is only a few hundred feet away, the chapel faces the woods and it feels somehow secluded—and sacred. You can see and hear the natural beauty of creation as you pray—the trees, the birds, etc. In the stillness this place I find that I connect with God. Here in this simple sanctuary, I can come and quiet the “noise” of my life long enough to at least give myself a chance to hear God’s “still small voice” when God tries to get my attention during the remainder of my day.

How about you? Where have you seen Jesus lately? Where are the thin places in your life?

I'm sure that some of us can answer this question more easily than others. If you find it easy to "see" Jesus now, be thankful for the gift of intimacy with God. If you are struggling to "see" right now, take heart. Scripture gives us the calm assurance that God is always near and promises us that if we seek him we will find him; God is eager to have fellowship with us. If we still ourselves, and train ourselves to listen, and look, we might realize that Jesus was in the places, faces, and spaces of our lives all along; we just didn't have eyes to see; we didn't expect to see him in those places. I hope that as we become increasingly aware of the presence of God permeating all of our lives and our world it will impact the way we live our lives. May "our praises rise, as we come to recognize: Jesus is near... and glory is here!"

Ascending With Jesus: Seeing With Different Eyes

As we continue our journey through the Church’s liturgical year, Easter and the resurrection fades in the rear-view mirror, and we pass onto the road less travelled. If you are Orthodox or Catholic, chances are you have some familiarity with this part of the year, but on the whole, Protestants do not. If we follow the trail-map laid out in the lectionary, we find that the next mile-marker to be aware of is an event that takes place 40 days after the resurrection (June 2 this year, and observed in church on June 5) called the Ascension. It marks the day when Jesus was taken up from the disciples[1]. So far as we know, it’s the last time the disciples or anyone—with the possible exception of Paul—ever saw Jesus “in the flesh”. (Ten days after that, on the day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit descends on a group of Jewish believers in Jerusalem, and ushers in a whole new chapter of God’s Story as the Church is born and becomes the means through which the Message of Jesus will spread around the world.)

Despite what the Gospels say, I can’t help but think that for the earthbound disciples, the Ascension was probably a bittersweet day. I mean think about it, they are just beginning to wrap their brains around the astonishing fact that there friend and master has risen from the dead—a feat no other person had accomplished before nor has been repeated sense—and now they have to say good bye all over again. It had to feel like emotional whiplash.

Jesus tried over and over again when he was alive to explain to them what was going to happen. He told his followers, and showed them by his example, that it is better for them, and more importantly, for the world, that he departs from them. He has also assured them that he will not leave them alone to face the world. On some level, the disciples may have been beginning to understand this, but keep in mind we’re only talking about a little over a month since the resurrection. If it were me, I think I would still be a little dazed and confused after all that had happened recently. I would think they still would feel a sense of loss as they stood on that mountain and watched Jesus disappear. Did they really believe the promises that Jesus had made? Could they possibly have fully understood them at that point? Maybe… but I think it’s more true to life to assume that they were probably were still struggling with quite a bit of unbelief and uncertainty about what was going on.

These men and women have become intimate friends of Jesus; hey literally did life together for the past three years. Up until now, whenever any of them wanted to talk to Jesus, they went to him and spoke with him face-to-face, the way you and I converse with our friends—remember, no e-mails, texting, or Facebook back then! Now, all of a sudden, Christ is no longer with them in bodily form. The physical separation had to be difficult at first. It might not be unlike what you and I feel when we lose a loved one to death.

Of course Jesus wasn’t dead; he was very much alive. In fact, he’s now more alive than ever! For a time the Second Person of the Trinity voluntarily chose to limit himself to a human body so that he could set us free to be all we were created to be as human beings. Now, however, that time has past! The Ascension marks the moment in time when Jesus returns to his rightful place in heaven and resumes the form he has had since the Beginning. Jesus now exists as he always existed; he reigns over Creation as Spirit, and spirit is every bit as real as the physical body.

The problem is that, like most human beings, the disciples aren’t used to interacting with a Spirit. We typically interact with other human beings who also have bodies just like us. But now they have to learn to cultivate a relationship with a real Person that they cannot see with their eyes. I can imagine that it might have been difficult at first. They had to adjust their vision to a new reality. It took time… and practice but eventually they began to see—in fact they came to “see” Jesus with clarity they never had before.

This, more than any other fact, probably accounts for the transformation we see in the disciples between the Gospels and Acts. We see disciples who denied, betrayed, and abandoned Jesus changed into bold and courageous preachers and evangelists who spread the Gospel all around the Ancient World.

As we begin to see and experience the fullness of who Jesus really is, we can begin to “see” and experience the fullness of all we have been created to be.

In your Ascension,

May I also ascend,

To give my full attention,

As your servant and your friend.

— “In Your Crucifixion”, Brian McLaren

I certainly seek to experience that “fullness” in my life but if I am honest, at times it seems elusive. I think I relate a little bit to what these men and women must have felt after the Ascension. It’s fair to say that I too have been struggling to “see “ Jesus lately. All that we have lived through over the past few years has taken its toll on me. Life experience and theological reflection have converged and resulted in soul-searching in recent days. I’ve been challenged to think about what I really believe. I have changed and while it’s not necessarily a bad thing, it has certainly impacted my faith and my experience of the divine. I don’t feel blind to God’s presence, so much as I feel like my vision has been blurred. I find myself in a new place (both theologically and experientially) and I am still adjusting my vision to the new reality.

Some of the old ways I used to connect with God don’t seem as effective as they once were and I seek to discover new ones that work in the place I now find myself.

I do see glimpses of new things God may be doing in my life but I struggle to gain clarity about my specific role in the process. I try to move forward hoping to gain clarity as I journey and it’s happening but it’s not a fast process. It takes time… it takes patience… it takes practice. And like the disciples in the presence of the risen Lord, I don’t think I always trust what I’m seeing.

As I have wrestled with my beliefs and struggled at times to “see” God, a song has spoken to my spirit. Perhaps the words that resonate the most are from its second verse and chorus.

In oceans and hills, and in ancient skies;

Hidden in faces and pain and delight; glory is here,

And I get a glimpse of You.

In silence and prayer; in bread and wine;

Somehow the common become the divine.

You’re making me new.

I’m starting to see You.

Our praises arise.

As we come to recognize.

Jesus is near.

Glory is here.

—“Glory is Here”, Michael Gungor Band

I like the song because it challenges me to see God in places where I might not be accustomed to looking for God’s presence… but it also lifts up some places and spaces where I have often sensed the divine presence—e.g., nature, other people, contemplation. It affirms that God is in all things, not an impersonal force of nature, but a brooding Spirit that enlivens all living things and equips them for their specific role in the ongoing drama of Creation. My challenge is to learn to “see” God in all the places, faces, and spaces along my journey where his Spirit dwells.

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[1] The Synoptic (meaning they are similar) Gospels all briefly mention this event [Matthew 28:16-20; Mark 16:19-20 (the longer ending of Mark); Luke 24:50-53] as does Acts 1:6-11. Interestingly John’s Gospel doesn’t really mention the Ascension per se.

Can it Be?! Becca is Three!

I passed by … and I said to you, “Live!” —Ezekiel 16:6

Can she really be three already!? Impossible! It seems like just a moment ago I held her in my arms for the first time and now she’s a beautiful little girl twirling around in her pretty Easter dress.

This milestone is always a bittersweet one for her mother and me. By now most of you know the story of our girls. You know that two girls celebrate a birthday this day, but we only get to have a party for one of them. (Though I suspect Hope Marie is having one heck of a party where she is today—where she is maybe the celebration never ends, and perhaps every day is your birthday J.) We wouldn’t be honest if we didn't say: “Happy birthday Hope. Mommy and daddy miss you today...”

But on this day we choose to focus on celebrating of the gift of Rebecca May…

It’s so amazing to watch her grow up! Sometimes raising two small children whilst juggling jobs and ministry is not easy—but it is always good. The bond between my son and I is neat, but the daddy–daughter bond is really special—you dads of daughters will no doubt know what I mean. Every time I bend down to Becca and she gives me a hug and a little peck on the cheek when I drop her off at daycare, or when she runs to me in the afternoon and says “Daddy!”, my heart sings. It can have been a long and tiring day, but her smile lifts me up and energizes me. Every time we flutter about our house together doing our silly little “Rebecca dance” together and she smiles, I like it as much or more than she does. Even when I struggle to get her to go to bed some nights, I rejoice on some level that she has such spirit within her that it’s sometimes hard to settle her down. When the day comes she doesn’t want to do those things with her daddy anymore, it will surely be gut-wrenching for me. You want your child to find their wings—but please God not too soon J.

The name Rebecca means “to bind” and I find that meaning fitting, for surely her presence in our lives has been a healing balm, a touch of grace, a focus on life and on resurrection, that helped bind together our wounded hearts and souls these past few years. Hope means “expectation and belief” and after our experience I would say that we seek to live each day with honest hope. We don’t deny that life is hard and at times difficult to understand, but because of our faith in Jesus we also believe that life as it was “meant to be” is good and beautiful, and we are meant to be the ones who work with God to make that goodness and beauty visible in our world. With God’s help, we truly expect that the “best” really is yet to come—for all of creation.

We will never forget Hope; she is forever part of our story, but because Becca lives—and most of all because Jesus lives—we live fully in the present and stand ready to face whatever tomorrow brings. Because He lives—our Hope endures…

When Resurrection Seems Impossible

The first Easter was that wondrous moment in history when the empty tomb was discovered and, in an instant, “everything changed” for the followers of Jesus… and for the world as we know it. But as amazing and wondrous as it was, it took a while for Jesus’ closest friends and followers to figure it out… Why?

Frankly, I think it was because, after the events of Friday and Saturday, resurrection would have probably been the furthest thing from their minds. At that moment, seized by grief and despair, resurrection seemed impossible.

When the women set off for the tomb in the wee hours of Sunday it is clear that they are going to visit a dead body and prepare it for proper burial. When they arrive at the tomb, they are completely shocked to find that the rather large stone in front of the tomb has been rolled away and even more astonished to discover that Jesus’ body is missing. They are seized with fear and amazement as they scurry about trying to figure out who moved the stone, and more importantly, what has become of Jesus’ body. Some of these women had stood and watched Jesus die on the cross; they witnessed the brutality of the Romans firsthand and looked Jesus square in the eye as he breathed his last. They certainly didn’t equate seeing the tomb empty with any notion that Jesus was somehow alive—that would’ve seemed impossible.

Even once the men learn about the empty tomb, they don’t immediately think of resurrection. Peter and John go to the tomb to see what is going on with their own eyes. They are as amazed by the news as the women are, and are trying to figure out what in the world is going on, and what has happened to Jesus’ body. (John’s Gospel suggests that upon entering the empty tomb, John believed, as if to suggest he figured out what had happened in that moment. I personally think that may be a bit of hyperbole on the part of the author—to make him look good.)

For these grieving, distraught disciples, it had to seem like adding insult to injury to have the body of Jesus missing and not know what had happened to it. Somebody might have vaguely remembered Jesus saying something about “rising again”, but then quickly dismissed the thought as impossible. They knew that no one—and I do mean no one—endured the kind of torture Jesus endured at the hands of Rome and lived to tell about it. They knew that crucifixion was permanent!

This might help us understand why, later, when the Risen Lord stood right in front of them, resurrection still seemed impossible for them to believe.

We know that in time, however, this view changed dramatically. Scholars debate the exact nature of the disciple’s experiences when they “saw” Jesus on a number of occasions after the resurrection, but none debate that these encounters with Jesus impacted all of them profoundly and convinced them that he was in fact risen.

We see that profound change on display in the continuation of the Story in Acts— the second volume of Luke’s two-volume account of the story of Jesus and the Early Church. Acts focuses on the birth and spread of the Church. Here we see that:

· a band of confused, scared, and grieving disciples have—in a fairly short amount of time—become focused and fearless advocates of the Kingdom of God thoroughly convinced that though Jesus is no longer present bodily, he is very much alive and active in the world.

· God uses rather ordinary people—very much like you and me—to do amazing things and uses these signs and wonders (and their preaching!) to proclaim the present availability of the Kingdom to the world.

· empowered by the Holy Spirit, these ordinary men and women—some of whom failed Jesus so utterly—are now the means through which the Message of Jesus spreads around the Ancient World.

· these same men and women—once too afraid to stay with Jesus to the end—have now become so utterly convinced of the reality of Jesus and the “truth” of his counter-cultural message of love and justice that they are now willing to die for what they believe.

· Peter—a man who struggled mightily the past three years to understand who Jesus was, even at one point going so far as to deny he was a follower of Jesus to protect his own well-being—now begins to fulfill his own destiny as The Rock on which Jesus will build his church. J

· Paul—a “righteous” Jew who spent his life zealously persecuting the young Church—has his own unique encounter with the Risen Lord and becomes one of the most passionate advocates of the Church—and the one uniquely gifted to bring the message of Jesus to the Gentiles.

If on that Saturday after Jesus died, you had told those disciples huddled in that room fearing for their lives all that lay ahead for them, they would have probably thought you were crazy. But a funny thing happens when Jesus enters our lives: Suddenly the impossible becomes possible.

Resurrection doesn’t seem possible; we can’t explain how it worked. (And not being able to explain it makes some of us seek to discredit it.) And yet, it’s the very thing on which our faith as followers of Christ hinges. If it didn’t happen, as Paul say in 1 Corinthians 15 our faith is futile (v17)… and we are to be pitied more than anyone (v19). But Paul is convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that resurrection did happen (v20), and that fact fuels his passion for proclaiming the Message. He has seen his own life profoundly changed and believes that kind of change is possible for all who choose to follow the Way of Jesus.

But what about you? Do you believe what Paul says—and what Jesus says?

One of my favorite lines of Scripture is: “Lord I want to believe help me with my unbelief.” I have been a follower of Christ for years, and I know what I ought to believe about the resurrection: With God, the impossible becomes possible…

But have I actually experienced this reality in my life the way the Apostles did?

The most honest answer I can give to that question is: “yes and no”. I look back over the trajectory of my life and see God making things that at one point seemed impossible, possible.

· There was a point when I seriously doubted that I would finish graduate school… I now have a Masters of Science hanging on my wall.

· There was a point when I seriously doubted that I would find a spouse… In July I will celebrate eight years of marriage to my wonderful wife Laurie.

· There was a point where Laurie and I weren’t sure we could have any biological children… I now have a five-year old son and a three-year old daughter.

But then there are areas of my life where if you looked back over my journals and could eavesdrop on my prayers and conversations with friends, you’d see me wrestling with the same things over and over again. The specific circumstances change over the years, but the “core issues” remain the same. These are the addictions I can’t seem to break, the habits and behaviors I just can’t seem to change no matter what impact it has on others around me—whether it be family, friends, coworkers, etc. These are the things the Enemy uses to hold me back from feeling “fully alive”!

These are the “tombs” in my heart with “stones” in front that seem so large that I sometimes wonder if even God can roll them away.

And to be honest, I’m not always sure I want the “stones” rolled away. Some “stones” I keep around to “protect” me from being exposed to the wiles of the world. They have been around so long that I can’t imagine life without them.

But until I let Jesus into my “tombs”, I fear that so many things I long for in this life—perhaps none greater than the experience of true joy—will continue to elude me. Jesus raised Lazarus to life and he offers me—and all of us—the same gift. He wants us to come out of our “tombs” and experience the fullness of the resurrection in every aspect of life. He calls to me saying: “ Alan, come out!”…

But Jesus will never force me to come out; that choice is mine. Will I come out or will I remain in the safe, familiar, and comfortable “tomb” I have been hiding in for so long? Will I put aside my fears and finally believe that with God the impossible really is possible—yes, even for me.