Resurrection - Aron Smith

Dear Reader, Aron let me know that he wrote this piece with Bob Carlisle's song "We Fall Down" in mind.  If you'd like to hear that song, you can watch the official video HERE. -Chris

If you’ve read my recent piece on hospitality, you are aware of my tendency to make a bee line for the dictionary before I start in on a topic.  This time is no exception.

The word resurrection is derived from two Latin words, the prefix re- and the verb surgere, to rise again.  As such, it is identical in origin to the word resurgence.  Both words carry the implication of bringing something/someone back to life after he/she/it was thought to be dead, either literally or figuratively.

To go a step further with the etymology, the word resurrection contains the Latin root rect-, meaning “right.”  Something that had fallen down (dead) is being righted, or restored to the upright position, not unlike the tray tables on a commercial jetliner when it’s time to descend for a landing.

The idea of restoring to life that which was thought to be lost forever is, of course, a highly romantic notion.  We get all wistful and misty-eyed over things lost, be they youth, money, ideals, faith or that one argyle sock that went into the dryer but never came out, lost forever among the lint balls.

We view all these things as being gone for good, irretrievably lost, perdido in Spanish or fafaln in the Yiddish that I grew up with.  The Yiddish word literally means “fallen”; in both the Yiddish and the Spanish, there is the implication of “damned,” or “lost to a place from which there is no return.”  So this is not just any fall, but the Fall, as in Adam and Eve.

The idea of resurrection seems to cancel out all that.  It is a word infused with hope to its very core; the concept implies that nothing is so lost that, under the right circumstances, it cannot be brought back to life.  The Bible teaches us that the right circumstance for rescue of lost causes is an extreme measure of faith.

Most of us associate “resurrection” with the events immediately following the death of Jesus.  However, the concept is first established in the Old Testament.

Arguably the best known incidents of resurrection are Jesus’ raising of Lazarus in John Chapter 11 and the prophet Elijah’s revival of the son of the widow of Zarephath in 1 Kings 17:17-24.  Interestingly, the Hebrew names of Elijah and Lazarus are very similar, the former being Eliyahu (“my God is Jehovah”) and the latter being Eliezer (“God is my help”).  Elijah himself had no need of resurrection, as he was transported to heaven alive in a whirlwind by a chariot of fire.  2 Kings 2:11  His protégé, Elisha, performs a resurrection upon the son of a Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 4:31-37.

The “never say die” ethic inherent in the concept of resurrection implies that there is always hope, that nothing is impossible.  Occurring in the spring of the year, Easter and Passover are festivals celebrating renewal at a season marked by the “rebirth” of plants upon the warming of the frozen earth as well as the appearance of a new generation of animals.  The egg, which figures prominently in the customs of both holidays, is the very symbol of fertility and regeneration.

However, resurrection implies not only a physical renewal, but a spiritual one as well.  This time of year can be viewed as an opportunity for second chances born of self-examination.  If we take a good, hard look in the mirror and do not see the person we had hoped for, there is no time like the present to make changes.  If we have veered off the path, now is the time to make corrections and return to the right road.

This is a good time not only to count our blessings, but also to make a renewed effort to bestow them on others.  Let us not forget those who are more unfortunate than us, as inconvenient as it may seem to give of our time and financial resources.  If we have become jaded by the vicissitudes of life, now is the time to resurrect our ideals.

Just as our prophets did in the Bible, we too can perform resurrections by providing the gift of hope to the hopeless.

Twins, Summer and Resurrection - James Harrison

Summer is coming! It's true, it's only April, but it's (mostly) warm and sunny and there's no looking back! Before adulthood, summer was easily the best time of the year. No school; what more could you ask for? Besides chores, my sunny seasons were spent riding bikes, playing basketball, and hanging out with friends. But after I finished school and entered Youth With A Mission, moving to Alberta, Canada, the summers merely meant that the sun would still be in the sky after work was over, as opposed to seeing stars come out at 5 pm. But besides work, the June, July, and August months meant occasionally visiting good ol' California to see my family.

Now, I have a twin sister. Before you ask, we are indeed identical twins, both in facial appearance and height. Yes, throughout our lives, most people can't tell who was James and who was Julie. It led to all kinds of problems. Julie would dress like me and get into all kinds of trouble, and the next thing I knew, I was being punished! It was tragic. But as adults, we've reconciled our conflicts and get along just fine. Mostly. 

Joking aside, one thing about my twin is this: she is summer. She embodies it, from her bubbly personality that cannot be eclipsed to her shining face filled with excitement. If you're around her, you know what she's feeling. If she's happy and laughing, you will be too! The sun is a ball of light and energy, never ceasing. And my sister is just as hard to shadow if she has set her mind to something. Once when we were seven, Julie got a hold of some flower seeds and started digging a hole. When I found her she was reading the bag of seeds and asked me what 6" meant. Intelligently, I told her, "It means six feet." (Whoops) She said, "How big is that?" "Julie, you'll have to dig for as tall as Jacob!" Sitting in the dirt with her wild, brown, curly hair, she thought for a moment then said, "Okay," and went back to work with the shovel.

She is persistent, loving, and full of life. Like the sun. Like summertime, that time of year I'm accustomed to seeing her. So when I think of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I think of a special time of the year, lasting the entire year! Seasons disappear and it's summer all year around. The atmosphere is energetic and life is the air we breathe. Our Creator is persistent to plant seeds that don't stop growing, and he will never withhold his Spirit that waters us each day, until the sun stops shining.

Hosanna - Beth Morgan

Last week I was trying to think of what songs to lead for Palm Sunday at church and naturally started thinking through all of the “Hosanna” repertoire.  I started to reflect on the 80’s number, “Hosanna Hosanna Hosanna in the highest…Lord we lift up Your name with hearts full of praise.  Be exalted, oh Lord our God. Hosanna in the highest” and I was reminded of the first time I remember hearing it and the realized it’s an interesting and befitting story.

The first time I heard this song was the German version, “Hosanna in der Höhe“.  I remember thinking how cool it was that in German, “Hosanna” was the same and that the rest of the line sounded funny, but cool.  I was 8.  My big brother had just returned from a trip to East Germany.  He, with a group of teenagers plus a couple of group leaders, managed to get into East Germany and I remember him telling me that they brought a keyboard to a secret group of Christians that were meeting.

The other day when I was remembering this, I started to imagine a windowless room full of East Germans singing with hearts full of praise and hopeful that the King would come and rescue them from a dark, difficult and oppressive time.  I started to think about Jesus riding his donkey into Jerusalem before crowds of Jews so weary and longing for the promised King to rescue them from the oppression of the Romans.  The parallels were obvious and my heart did a little leap with the realization that in my lifetime, many believer’s prayers were answered and that I possess a piece of that infamous dividing wall that was brought down.

My thoughts turned to “far-off” lands today where I imagine there to be secret churches praying with hearts full of praise and with expectant hope of the intervention of the just and good King.  Oh that we would join with them more in prayer and solidarity, rejoicing that the King has come and praying that His kingdom would come on earth as it is in heaven.  Hosanna.

The Gardener - Aaron Alford

The two men had run off, as they were so prone to do, never giving the stranger in the garden a second glance.  The woman who was with them had followed.  He was alone now.  He stretched wide and took in the morning sun as it fell warmly on his face, his hands, and on the garden’s green leaves.  The air was cool, and smelled of the freshness of a newborn day.  A morning song sprang suddenly from the sky above him, and the singer lighted gently on a branch just a few feet away.  He stood there, watching her preen her wings, and he marveled at such a small and elegant creature.  She cocked her head and puzzled at him for a moment.  She sang once more, as if to ask who he might be.  He smiled in response, and the singer hopped into the sky in a flutter.

He heard footsteps approaching, and not wishing to be noticed, he hunkered down on his haunches, and busied himself with the patch of little yellow flowers beside him.

The woman had returned.  She was visibly distraught, sniffling, speaking to herself in whispers and sobs.  He kept to his flowers as she approached the great rock that stood behind him.  He glanced her way, but her eyes did not meet his.  She paused at the sight of the open rock face, and peered into the barren tomb.  He could hear her sharp breaths, and quietly watched as she stepped trembling into the tomb. 

He returned to his flowers with a pensive brow.  He knew what she was thinking.  ‘They’ve taken him!  Oh God!  They’ve taken him!  Hadn’t he suffered enough?  Why strip him even of the dignity of a grave?’  He heard her sobs from the inside of the sepulcher.  The yellow faces of the flowers stared back at him, as if pleading to him, “Say something!” 

Convulsions of sorrow were coming upon her now, and she turned from the open grave, steadying herself against the stone that should have sealed the tomb.  Her fingers caressed her lips as she looked to the empty blue sky in despair, and with a last great sob, she buried her face in her hands, and wept.

He stood to face her, and stepped slowly toward her.

“Ma’am?  Why are you crying?”

“Please!” she said between gasps, her hands pressed mournfully to her face. “Please, if you’ve taken him... If you know where they took him, tell me!  I’ll take him!  Please!”

She fell into the stranger’s arms and wept.  “Please.”

He took her into his embrace, standing silently.  The two of them stood there in the cool of the morning, her head nestled into his chest, both of them aglow with the still rising sun.  He smiled when the breeze caught her unkempt hair, tickling his neck so softly.  He put his lips close to her ear and whispered a single word.  

“Mary.”

Her eyes shot open in recognition, and she pushed herself away to see his face.

“Teacher!” she screamed, and took him into her arms so tightly he began to laugh.

“Oh God!  It’s you!  It’s you!” she cried, her heart barely believing what she was holding in her arms.

“It’s me,” he said.

“Oh, let me hold on to you forever!” she cried.

“Not yet, Mary.  But soon.”

The One Here With Me - Chris Whitler

 A song for Good Friday
 

The Raven Welcomes Dave - Dave Skene

Hospitality - Aron Smith

As an amateur etymologist, I can’t help noticing that the word hospitality contains the word hospital.  Checking my big, unabridged dictionary, I see that both words come from the Latin hostis, which may refer to a guest, stranger or enemy.  This Latin word is the root of both host and hostile.  Could it be that all strangers were once seen as enemies, and those who entertained them viewed with suspicion?

The dictionary also tells us that while a “guest” is always “welcomed,” this may be either “gratuitously” or “for a fee.”  So one may be a guest at a hotel (same Latin root as above), in our homes or even in a hospital (although today we would use the word patient), but in all cases, hospitality is offered in that we are taken in to an establishment belonging to another, and to which we would have no right but for the owner’s largesse or desire to make money.

My immediate association with the word hospitality is the story of Abraham in Genesis 18:1-8. As the curtain goes up on this drama, we see Abraham sitting at the entrance of his tent in the heat of the day.  I’ve always wondered why he was sitting out in the heat, in the middle of the desert, rather than staying inside the tent with Sarah, where the shade must have been cooler.  And why wasn’t he working?  Was it his day off?  Was he so wealthy that he didn’t have to work?  We know that he had many servants and flocks and wells, so perhaps he got to relax while his employees did the work.

I don’t imagine that many people came traipsing through the burning sand, so it must have been something special when three men approached, seemingly out of nowhere.  They may have been strangers, but Abraham wasn’t afraid of them.  He welcomed them without having any idea who they were or where they came from.

Looking up, he saw three men standing near him.  As soon as he saw them, he

ran from the entrance of the tent to greet them and, bowing to the ground, he

said, “My lords, if it please you, do not go on past your servant.  Let a little

water be brought, bathe your feet and recline under the tree.  And let me fetch

a morsel of bread that you may refresh yourselves, then go on — seeing that

you have come your servant’s way.”  They replied, “Do as you have said.”

What can we learn from this?  To be sure, Abraham did the normal things that we associate with hospitality:  He provided food, water and a place to rest.  But Abraham went far beyond the provision of these basic necessities.  His actions speak volumes about his attitude.

We are told that Abraham “ran…to greet them.”  Imagine that!  He actually ran to greet them.    These travelers were no mere curiosity to Abraham.  He must have felt a deep compulsion to be of assistance to them.  He welcomed these visitors not grudgingly, nor out of a mere sense of duty, but with joy.  It is obvious that he had great respect for these people who he had never met before, as he bowed down to them and referred to himself as their servant.

So what did Abraham offer his guests to eat?  No mere crust of bread, no peanut butter and jelly sandwich for them.  Oh no, Abraham provided these strangers with the best and finest that he had to offer.

Abraham hastened into the tent to Sarah, and said, “Quick, three seahs of

choice flour!  Knead and make cakes!”  Then Abraham ran to the herd,

took a calf, tender and choice, and gave it to a servant-boy, who

hastened to prepare it.  He took curds and milk and the calf that had been

prepared and set those before them; and he waited on them under the

tree as they ate.

Instead of serving everyday bread, Abraham had Sarah use choice flour while he himself especially picked out a calf that was tender and choice.  Also, curds (similar to yogurt) and milk were considered rich foods fit for special occasions.  And Abraham did all this at a moment’s notice, without giving a second thought to the cost.

The theme of urgency pervades these verses.  Abraham hastened, he told his wife to be quick, he ran to the herd and the servant boy hastened to butcher and cook the calf.  It seems that Abraham’s conception of appropriate hospitality involved not requiring the travelers to wait for anything.

Finally, we are told that Abraham waited on the travelers while they ate.  Perhaps this means that he kept out of sight so that the visitors could take their time.  But I don’t think so.  I believe the scriptural reference is to “waiting” in the sense of a restaurant waiter or that of one who is “waited on hand and foot.”  In other words, Abraham was attentive to his guests, refilling their plates and water and generally seeing to it that they wanted for nothing.

Did Abraham know he was providing hospitality to angels?  That is a question that has been debated for thousands of years.  Ultimately, however, I don’t think it mattered.  I believe Abraham would have extended the same courtesy to any travelers who came his way, no questions asked.  In other words, Abraham saw a need and he filled it.

Why is it so hard for us to emulate Abraham’s sense of hospitality in the 21^st century?  I thought about this recently on a lazy Sunday when my wife and I were enjoying a late lunch in Denny’s down by the freeway.  As we were leaving, she told me that she noticed three young kids sitting at the table behind us and that she’d like us to pay for their meals.  I quickly agreed; we have often performed such random acts of kindness, and Donna has an uncanny discernment of those in need that has always eluded me.  After paying their bill, she walked over to their table and gave each of the three of a ten-dollar bill.  She reported that they just stared at her as if they couldn’t believe their amazing good luck.  One of them had ordered a cup of coffee; the rest drank water.  They had shared a sandwich among them.  My wife expressed her opinion that they were probably traveling, most likely on foot.  They may have been hitchhiking along the freeway, or they could have been homeless, perhaps preparing to spend the night in one of the makeshift camps beneath a bridge abutment or in an alley between abandoned storefronts.  The oldest of them couldn’t have been more than 21 or 22.

We never did find out what their circumstances were.  Donna told me that she wished we could have taken them into our home, let them bathe and wash their clothes, give them a good meal and a cozy place to sleep.  How wonderful, I thought.  But, she reminded me that, in this day and age, it is unsafe to allow strangers into one’s home.  We must help others from a distance, at arm’s length, for who knows if they will harm us, rob us, destroy our home.  Sadly, I had to agree.

I believe that the spirit of Abraham is alive and well, but the realities of modern life have thrown up barriers to properly performing this act of good will.  Was the world really so different in Abraham’s time?  I like to think not.  I don’t believe people have changed that much.  Abraham did not know that the strangers traipsing across the sand were not robbers who intended to murder him and Sarah and ravage his herds.  He had no idea what their intent was, where they had come from or where they were going.  None of that mattered to him.  All he knew was that they had arrived and that hospitality was therefore in order.

Perhaps we need to take a sledgehammer and break down the barriers that stand between us and loving our neighbors as ourselves.  Or at least take a chisel and chip away at it, one person at a time.  All it takes is one or two people to provide an example to others, to demonstrate that there is nothing to fear but our own prejudices.  I only hope I can go out on a limb and be the kind of person I really want to be.  I don’t know that I’ll ever get there, but I pray that I will learn to open my heart fully, willingly and without fear, just as our patriarch Abraham did so many centuries ago.