We want the details.

Posted on April 5, 2012 by Margaret

Our Birgitta began drawing faces at age 3 and never stopped, so with all those years of practice, her portraits have become (I believe) quite good.

When she was little, though, she drew primitively like most children do. As her attention span lengthened and she focused on one piece of paper longer, she added more detail. This picture was drawn at age 4, and like all her creations, I loved asking her about it.

“Who’s this?” I said.

“It’s a girl. She’s thinking.”

“About what?”

“Cookies,” she said. “She loves cookies.”

“She has a pretty bow,” I said, noticing its three parts colored differently.

“For her curly hair.”

We talked about the elbow marks, the hairy eyebrows, the beautiful teeth, the dramatic makeup, and the curly bangs. I saw how she’d carefully colored the inside of her mouth red and put pupils in the eyes, nostrils on the nose.

Life’s important stuff is in the details. When we buy a new car, we want to know everything it can do. When we purchase a product at the grocery store, we flip it over to read its ingredients. When someone has a baby, we want the blow-by-blow of labor and delivery.

Our quest for detail is also true when we ponder the events of Good Friday, but God hasn’t told us everything we want to know. I’d like to know how much detail Jesus himself knew ahead of time about those last 48 hours.

When did he learn Judas was a traitor? Did he know it when he first chose him? What about the bogus trials he’d have to endure and the humiliation he would experience through the mocking of his captors? Did he know the extent of that ahead of time? Did he know his disciples would run when he needed them most? His words to Peter about betrayal hinted that he did.

Did he have an inkling of how brutal the Roman torture would be? And did he really believe his Father would turn away completely? Surely these details had all come clear by the time he was agonizing in the garden, face to the ground.

Tonight at our church we attempted to participate in some of the details of those last 48 hours as we walked The Stations of the Cross: tasting his salty tears, lifting his heavy cross, tearing fabric to represent his torn flesh. We think maybe if we knew more, we might be able to participate more in his suffering.

Though Scripture tells us much, a great deal is left unsaid. But just like the detail in Birgitta’s current drawings has become more complete (at left), I believe Jesus will one day let us know the particulars of his incredible sacrifice. It’ll happen when we’re living with him in paradise, and when we get the full knowledge of those last 48 hours, we’ll go flat on our faces before him, awed that he endured so much…

…for us.

“Grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life.” (2 Timothy 1:9,10)

Vandalism Forgiven

Posted on April 4, 2012 by Margaret

If we zone out while driving because we know our route backwards and forwards, we can miss all kinds of interesting sights. For example, the other day I drove under a viaduct and enjoyed an unexpected smile when I spotted a cheerful, rainbow-colored message: Happy B-day KJO

Two words came to mind: celebration and youth. With only a split second to study the artwork, I could only assume it was spelled out with disposable plastic drinking cups. I’d seen those kinds of messages pushed into chain link fences before, but only in white Styrofoam. This was something fresh and new.

The next underpass added more info: Happy B-day Kelli Jo

Without doubt this was the work of high school girls, and as I drove, I pictured a group of them giddily working on the bridge the night before, hurriedly pushing the cups into the fence before they got caught, maybe well after dark.

Some people would call those signs vandalism, or at least littering, both of which are against the law. They might describe them as “messes made by thoughtless youngsters who expect others to clean up after them.” But maybe such thinking is out of place.

Might this be a case for grace?

All of us know people who shine at giving grace to others. They look on the bright side of each situation and hunt for reasons to be thankful. We feel at ease around them, knowing these grace-based people are also non-judgmental. We’re free to be ourselves and can rest easy in the relationship, despite our failures and flaws.

And this is exactly how Jesus wants us to perceive him, as a grace-based Person. When we fall short of his high standards and failure hounds us, he immediately looks on the bright side, hoping we’ll do better next time. He also hunts for ways to hearten us when we’re disheartened and in the process looks for reasons to be thankful for us (hard to believe, but true). Although he’s also the ultimate Judge and has the power to act on all of his justice-based opinions, he often clears us instead, eliminating the blame and shame we deserve.

And he does it by his grace.

My name isn’t Kelli Jo, and it wasn’t my birthday the other day, but seeing those signs put a little sparkle into a boring expressway drive. And by the way, the accurate definition of vandalism is “deliberately malicious destruction or damage of property,” which this wasn’t. And the definition of littering is “rubbish strewn or scattered about,” which this wasn’t either.

Kelli Jo can continue to take pleasure in her birthday greetings… as long as she eventually climbs up on the bridge and collects all 264 of those pretty colored cups.

“From [Jesus Christ’s] abundance, we have all received one gracious blessing after another.” (John 1:16)

It’s time to flower.

Posted on April 3, 2012 by Margaret

For 63 years I lived in the Chicago metropolitan area and was accustomed to every possible convenience: endless shopping options, museums, convention centers, sports arenas, plentiful public transportation, theaters, and more. Life was fast-paced, if not sometimes over-full.

Then Nate and I relocated to a very small town in southwest Michigan, and a much simpler life came along with our move. He barely had time to adjust before he had to move again, but this time it was to a paradise unlike anything we’d known on earth. He had to leave me behind, though, and I’m still a resident of that tiny Midwestern town.

Small towns may not have the options of giant cities, but they do have their perks. Today I took advantage of one of them, pulling off the road in response to a sign inviting me to help myself to some blooming daffodils. An old-fashioned flower cart with cheery yellow wheels stood by itself, loaded with jonquils, daffodils, and hyacinth. The sign read, “SELF SERVE” for $1 a bunch. A slotted metal box directed my deposit, and I folded several dollars into the opening.

Buying gorgeous flowers on an honor system? Only in a small town.

Later a friend told me about the trusting woman behind the flower cart, a person who has similar carts in multiple locations throughout the area. She owns a flower farm out in the country and shares excess blooms with the public each year.

Looking through my camera I was struck by the beauty in the frame, not just the flowers themselves but the invitation to help myself, no questions asked.

During Holy Week we’re thinking about all Jesus had to go through to secure salvation for us, and the bottom line is much like the action of removing flowers from the cart: we have to reach out and take what’s being offered. I could drive past those flowers every day, admiring their beauty but never stopping to bring some home with me. If I don’t pull over, get out of the car, and make a personal choice, they’ll never be mine.

God extends his offer to everyone passing by and sincerely hopes each one of us will choose him. And though I was instructed to put dollar bills into the lock-box for my flowers, God asks nothing of us. Jesus already paid the bill, and the gift he extends to us cost him a sum we could never provide through our own effort.

Free to us, it cost Jesus everything.

And one last note. Although flower carts like the one I saw today might be found in small towns where buyers are faithful to the honor system, salvation is freely available all over the place: in giant cities, in rural areas, and everywhere in between.