Remember Me

This is Holy Week. The week we remember exactly what it means to be a Christian; to be a follower of Christ. The week starts with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem riding on the colt of a donkey, while the Passover crowds celebrate him as a king. Towards the end of the week, these same crowds either called for Jesus’ crucifixion or remained silent when others demanded his death. At the very end, they lined the streets as Jesus carried his cross to Golgotha.

Many other things happened that week as well, the most meaningful to me are the ones that didn’t occur in the presence of the fickle crowds – the Last Supper, Jesus’ time in the Garden of Gethsemane, and what we learn on the walk from one to the other.

At the Last Supper we witness Jesus the servant as he washes the disciples’ feet. In that act, we learn the importance of being a servant, not only to the world around us, but also to the people we love the most. We also learn that it takes humility to follow Jesus – we have to let him touch us where we are dirty. We need him to wash us of our filth. We cannot wash ourselves; we have to let him do it.

At the Last Supper, we receive one the most precious commandments of Christ – “Do this in remembrance of me.” In communion, we remember the life, death and promised return of our Lord Jesus. We remember that he is a gift to us – a body broken and shared. We remember that by his blood, we have a new covenant; a covenant of forgiveness for all who will receive it. And what means so much to me – we remember all of this as we share communion together with our family of believers. Communion is not just about our individual relationship with Jesus – it’s also about our relationship with our brothers and sisters in Christ.

At the Last Supper, we receive the promise of one day actually sitting at a table with Jesus and breaking bread. More often than not we share our meals with those we love and cherish. I can’t wait to share a meal with Jesus.

Fresh Air

I cook fish sometimes. Every so often, I leave the garbage in the house one day too long. After being cooped up in the house for awhile, the atmosphere can just be stale. The problem is that I don’t realize it, until after I’ve gone out to the mailbox to get the mail and come back inside. Then I know very well that my house smells. Until then though, I live with smelly, stale air without realizing it because I grow accustomed to it. But once I do, up go the windows – some upstairs, some down; some in the front and others in the back – all in an effort to create a cross breeze that will blow the stinky, stale air right on out. My house just feels better.

That’s what I feel like has happened to my spirit recently. The year 2009 was difficult and those difficulties forced me to realize that the atmosphere in my spirit was stale and musty. The issue is that I’d learned to live with the staleness. It took God moving within those situations for me to realize that I needed to open the windows of my soul and allow the fresh, cleansing breeze of the Holy Spirit to blow the stuffiness out. My spirit just feels better.

I feel like I’ve been dormant for awhile now – not living a life of sin, but certainly not living a life of adventure and challenge. I’ve been in a rut on my journey on the narrow road. I’ve stopped looking around to see what points-of-interest God wants me to see. I’ve been passing by those on the road who are struggling with their journey. I’ve stopped trying to share the joy of the journey on the narrow road with those lost in the crowds, bright lights and false promises of the broad road that will only lead them to despair.

But God, (one of my most favorite phrases) doesn’t want me let me stay in my musty, stuffy life. He has more for me to do, He has better plans than I do, and He has challenges I may shrink from, but are so worth facing. For the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to see what’s next.