“I Have Seen the Lord” (John 20:10-18)

The story of Mary Magdalene meeting Jesus at the empty tomb is found only in John’s Gospel. Everything about it corresponds to human nature as we know it. A weeping woman lingers by an empty tomb, wondering what has happened to the body of the one she loved. When Jesus appears on site, she doesn’t recognize that it’s him. After she does realize it’s the Lord, she grips his feet so tightly that he needs to tell her to let him go. The scene ends with the mourner becoming a missionary—running to tell others that she has seen Jesus alive.

In many ways, Mary represents all of us. The risen Christ cares about our pain. He’s present even in our darkest hour, and he doesn’t let our despair go unchallenged. The risen Christ also knows us personally. He calls us by name and always gives us what we need the most, including hope beyond the grave. Finally, the risen Christ redirects our priorities. He wants us to share him with others, not keep him to ourselves. He also cares more about grace than our status in the world.

It’s often been said that Mary Magdalene was last at the cross and first at the tomb. That’s a high honor that can’t be said about any of the men who followed Jesus. She was the first to see Jesus alive and the first to hear his voice, thus becoming an apostle to the apostles. A formerly demonized woman, Mary had been changed by Jesus. You can be, too. Indeed, the story of the risen Christ can change your story—forever.

Sermon Resources:

His Only Son

Here’s how we opened our Easter service this morning at Christ Community Church in Myerstown, Pennsylvania. As has become our tradition, it’s a dark-to-light presentation that culminates in a choir processional of exuberant voices declaring the joy of Christ’s resurrection, with the congregation joining in on the last verse. This year’s presentation was called “His Only Son,” from Genesis 22 and the Gospels. Enjoy.

Click on the image to access the video:

His Only Son

An Original Production by
Christ Community Church

Written by
Tim Valentino

Narrated by
Ken Hunkins

Produced and Edited by
Tim Valentino

Artwork by
Maureen Logan

Choir Directors
Sonya Valentino
Shirley Long

Processional
Christ Community Church Easter Choir

Jen Danielson, Lisa Dreibelbis, Stacey Espenschied, Kaye Focht, Marcy Garman, Shawn Garman, Ginny Hauer, Ken Hunkins, Faye Hipkiss, Bonnie Hunkins, Carol Keller, Kirby Keller, Maureen Logan, Shirley Long, Claude Petrie, Jan Petrie, Dawn Sharp, Pat Shroff, Sonya Valentino, and Tim Valentino.

Music by

“Adagio for Strings,” String Quartet, Op. 11 by Samuel Barber, performed by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Leonard Bernstein, Sony Music, 1971.

“Prelude” by Scott Brasher and J. A. C. Redford on Unveiled Hope by Michael Card, performed by the London Session Orchestra, featuring Hunter Lee, conducted by J. A. C. Redford, Myrrh, 1977.

“Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee,” lyrics by Henry Van Dyke, music by Ludwig van Beethoven, Ode to Joy: from Symphony No. 9, performed by the Grace Community Church Orchestra, Sun Valley, CA, 2024.

Video by

His Only Son, directed by David Helling, starring Nicolas Mouawad as Abraham, Sara Seyed as Sarah, Edaan Moskowitz as Isaac, and Dan da Silva as the Lord, Angel Studios, 2023.

Jesus of Nazareth, directed by Franco Zeffirelli, starring Robert Powell as Jesus, Olivia Hussey as Mary, Yorgo Voyagis as Joseph, and Michael York as John the Baptist, ITC Entertainment, 1977.

The Passion of the Christ, directed by Mel Gibson, starring Jim Caviezel as Jesus, Icon Productions/Newmarket Films, 2004.

Risen, directed by Kevin Reynolds, starring Joseph Fiennes as Clavius Aquila Valerius Niger, Antonio Gil as Joseph of Arimathea, and Victor Trapani as Nicodemus, Affirm Films/Columbia Pictures, 2016.

Licensed By

Christian Copyright Licensing International No. 21229380

Christian Video Licensing International No. 21-03851831

Never without Hope

It was a sad weekend in our neck of the woods. First, we got news that one of our parishioners, who was recently diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia, will need a second (and more aggressive) round of chemotherapy to reach remission before her care team will do any bone marrow treatments. We feel horrible on her behalf, but we are not without hope.

Second, a parishioner from a previous church had her ashes spread on Saturday. Her husband and sons are in deep grief for this wife and mother who died all too young. “For dust you are, and to dust you will return” (Genesis 3:19). She knew Christ as her Lord and Savior, so here again, we are not without hope.

Finally, we got news yesterday that my sister-in-law had to put her dog Buddy down. We would dog sit him whenever she and her husband went on vacation. Rescued out of a horrible situation nine years ago, Buddy was the kindest, most chill creature we’ve ever known. Yet even here we are not without hope. Apparently, all dogs go to heaven. (Except for Puffy, the demon-possessed Pomeranian.)

All this came on the heels of a hellish news week, one featuring terrorism and death around the world and here at home. Again. (And some of it was done in the name of the twisting of one of the world’s major religions.) Who cannot sympathize with the ancient lament, “How long, O Lord?”

But through all the hard times of life, God cares for his people. That’s why he came to us on that first Christmas. God in Christ didn’t avoid the miseries of this world. Rather, he entered into those miseries, experienced them firsthand, and then swallowed them up. He’s coming again someday to make all things new. In the meantime, we can count on his lavishing love to carry us through the hard times.

Bethany told me a while back that she won’t be able to attend a Christmas Eve service when I’m gone. I said to my precious little girl, “You need to be brave and go light those candles like you always do. The light they hold represents all that gives us hope beyond the grave.”

Mild he lays his glory by,
Born that man no more may die,
Born to raise the sons of earth,
Born to give them second birth.

Christmas Eve—and all that it represents—is everything. Everything.

Have a good cry if you need to when life is hard. “Blessed are those who mourn,” said Jesus. He should know. Christ had tears streaming down his own cheeks on more than one occasion, too. He was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” So you’re in good company if you “lose it” once in a while. It’s o.k. to not be o.k. for a season. After all, it’s only a season. “Joy comes in the morning.”

So, dare to cling to hope. And let Hope himself cling to you. The Christmas manger leads to an empty tomb. It’s still a Christ-kissed earth that we live on, so we are never without hope.

‘Torn Veil in the Temple’: My Dissertation Title, Thesis, and Outline

The title of my second doctoral dissertation is “Torn Veil in the Temple: God’s Commentary on the Death of His Son and Epicenter of His New Creation in Christ.” My thesis is as follows:

“The torn veil in the temple is God’s commentary on the death of his Son and the epicenter of his new creation in Christ. It is visual theology from heaven signaling the start of the promised new covenant era through a dramatic display of divine vandalism. The paradoxical result of this token judgment on the temple is universal access to God’s relational presence and the restoration of Edenic shalom for those who embrace the Son, as the cherubim guarding the tree of life have been dismissed from their post. Humanity can walk with God again freely, undefiled by the ravages of guilt, shame, and despair. Because the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom at the precise moment of Jesus’s death on the cross—the world’s final purification offering—one may be confident that the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord.”

Though I’ve never met him, I’d like to offer a word of thanks to Dr. Daniel M. Gurtner, whose work on this subject has inspired my own. In his dissertation, Gurtner suggests no less than ten areas of additional research for helping the church better understand what the torn veil signifies. He wants to “prompt scholars to rearrange the pieces of this puzzle in a different yet coherent manner.”

My dissertation seeks to build on his estimable work and rearrange some of the pieces. In short, it seeks to create a biblical theology of the veil using a historical-contextual approach. It’s truly a labor of love on a topic that has tantalized me more than any other since I first met Jesus Christ by faith back when I was a freshman swimmer at West Virginia University.

More to come later. (At this rate, much later, though I’m working on it!) Anyway, here is the outline:

Artistic conception of the original tabernacle veil according to Exodus 26:31–33 (Courtesy of Andrew Valentino)

Next Up: Thanksgiving and Christmess

You may have heard of that tea called “Sleepytime,” the caffeine-free herbal blend by Celestial Seasonings designed to help folks relax and unwind before bedtime. Well, I must have been drinking a new flavor this week called “Weepytime,” as the tears have begun to flow a little more freely these days. How come?

The temperatures outside are plunging, and the turkey inside awaits a good smoking. The leaves on the ground are rustling around and painting the landscape with perfection. Tthe holly berries out back have erupted, stippling their way across the massive green backdrop that pricks all who come near. That can only mean Thanksgiving is close at hand—the wonderful American holiday in November where we push the pause button on life and celebrate the goodness of God to us. “Count your many blessings, name them ton by ton.”

My sister has been safely resting in Jesus for a year now, and that touches the heart. So does the thought of receiving a new daughter-in-law next year. Samuel and Levi, of course, continue to delight my soul, as do the growth and expanded ministries of our church, which is motivated to follow hard after Jesus. (God gave us a Christian preschool out of the blue this year after a time of fasting and prayer.) There’s been good progress on a massive dissertation, which is turning out to be my life’s work and the best of all I know about God and his ways from Scripture. Food, clothing, shelter, family—the list of things for which I can be thankful is long and lovely.

But the floodgates opened in earnest a few days ago when I unpacked our new Nativity scene. I’ve been wanting to get a replacement for several years now because the one we’ve been using is a bit too antiseptic for my taste. The new one is much more rustic and realistic. It’s earthy and crude, which I like because the first Christmas was really a Christmess.

God came down. All the way down. And landed in a manger—right on top of cow spit and barnyard bacteria. Right on top of King Herod’s royal bombast and bluster, thus inflaming his rage and insecurities. Yes, Jesus came a long way to save us. Two thousand years ago, the eternal Son of God stepped across the stars of the universe to become a zygote in the womb of Mary, a teenage girl from a tiny town no one esteemed. And then he was born like one of us. Did he suck his thumb that first night in the feeding trough?

The Prince of Peace came in peace. Nothing is more disarming and unthreatening than a baby. But how is this possible? This is Almighty God we’re talking about here. The one who fills the universe is now filling his diaper? I still can’t fully get my mind around the incarnation. No worries, though; it has captured my heart and unleashed my imagination, and that’s good enough for me. It reduces me to a puddle every single year, whether I want it to or not. I suspect that’s because I believe it with the totality of my being.

We won’t display the new Nativity scene until the last dish is dried from the Thanksgiving feast. After all, we’re not decoration heretics. But even then, it won’t contain the newborn Christ until Christmas morning. Advent comes first, and we’re taking Samuel and Levi on an Advent-ure of anticipation, helping them learn to wait for the good things God has for them. (That’s a good lesson for big kids, too.) So, every time we walk past the crèche, we look for baby Jesus and say, “He’s not here yet, but he’s coming.”

Yes, he’s coming again, friends. Jesus is coming back to the planet he made and the people he loves. That, too, is a good lesson for big kids. Are you ready?

The local Home Depot has a series of workshops for the little ones.
Samuel is focused on the task at hand.
Brothers at the Pretzel Hut on Papa-Gaga Day.
Levi snuggling in his pizza blanket.
Samuel loves his daddy’s hat.
Levi loves going down the slide backwards.
Samuel’s love of books has begun.
Love and cuddles from mama.
The boys love the indoor playground at Ephrata Community Church.
“And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall” (Malachi 4:2b).
Levi going all the way to the top for the big slide.
Playing is hard work.
The trees at our church have been stunning this fall.
Not one but two “burning bushes” off the church parking lot.
The tree-lined walkway out the front of the church.
The shifting sounds of fall to winter.

A True Turning Point, USA

He spoke more than he knew.

And then, with an eerie prescience, he had his finger on the pulse of the nation.

And yet he pressed on in faith and courage. Until he was silenced by an assassin’s bullet.

Jesus said, “A time is coming when anyone who kills you will think he is offering a service to God. They will do such things because they have not known the Father or me. I have told you this, so that when the time comes you will remember that I warned you.” (John 16:2-4)

Thank God for Easter.

Three Hearts on Calvary

For years now, I’ve been creating “dark-to-light” media presentations to open the Easter services at the churches I’ve been privileged to serve. Past presentations have included: “The Passion & the Glory”; “On My Cross”; “Shine, Jesus, Shine”; “Sunday’s Coming;” “After Darkness, Light”; and several others. Some years they’re tied to the Lenten sermon series we just completed. Other years they’re stand-alone presentations simply designed to fit the occasion.

This morning’s presentation was called, “Three Hearts on Calvary,” based on the story of the repentant thief on the cross next to Jesus. It features Don Francisco’s story-song, “Too Small a Price.” I’ve been wanting to do this one for a couple decades, but I never had the right tools or technology. Thankfully, this year I was able to take the plunge. I must have cried a river of tears pulling it together. It was an exhausting but exhilarating labor of love.

Two things made this year’s presentation extra special for me, personally. First, Francisco came to do a concert for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes at West Virginia University back when I was a student on campus. That was right around the time God was awakening me to his gospel of grace in Christ, and Don was instrumental in my own conversion. (That may explain the river of tears during the creative process.) Second, our Easter Choir processed into the sanctuary during the choral climax of the song, triumphantly singing along with Francisco, which sent our spirits soaring:

Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
We have been redeemed!

Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
We have been redeemed!

Joy!
Joy!
Joy!

Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
Jesus is the Lord of all!
We have been redeemed!

We then declared in unison, as believers all over the world are doing today, “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!” After that we worshiped the Lord with Charles Wesley’s “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today,” and then we continued with the rest of the worship service.

I hope you enjoy “Three Hearts on Calvary,” and I hope you have a triumphant Easter as well. Shoot me a note if you’d like to talk about the risen Christ and what he’s come to do for you.

Be blessed.

Post Photo Credit: Pixers

Christus Victor (Amen)

Our congregation has enjoyed singing “Christus Victor (Amen)” by Matt Boswell, Bryan Fowler, Keith Getty, Kristyn Getty, and Matt Papa. The phrase refers to one of the more prominent images of the atonement theologians have proposed over the years to explain why the cross “works” (along with the cross as ransom, satisfaction, substitution, etc.). Thankfully, we need not know how the cross accomplished our salvation, only that it does, and that God the Father regards the redemptive work of God the Son as “saving.”

I’ve had the privilege of seeing the Gettys in concert, and their work is always food for the soul. This 2024 release is another feast from their heart to ours. Enjoy!

VERSE 1
O Most High King of the ages
Great I AM God of wonders
By the blood You have redeemed us
Led us through mighty waters
Our strength our song our sure salvation

CHORUS 1
Now to the Lamb upon the throne
Be blessing honor glory power
For the battle You have won
Hallelujah Amen

VERSE 2
O Most High dwelling among us
Son of man sent for sinners
By Your blood You have redeemed us
Spotless Lamb mighty Savior
Who lived who died who rose victorious

CHORUS 2
Now to the Lamb upon the throne
Be blessing honor glory power
For the battle You have won
Hallelujah
With every tribe and every tongue
We join the anthem of the angels
In the triumph of the Son
Hallelujah Amen

VERSE 3
O Most High King of the nations
Robed in praise crowned with splendor
On that day who will not tremble
When You stand Christ the Victor
Who was and is and is forever

BRIDGE
Amen amen amen
Amen amen amen
Amen amen amen

TAG
Sing the victory of the Lamb
Hallelujah Amen Amen

Redeemed by God and for God (Revelation 5:9-10)

In Revelation 5, the Apostle John becomes part of the vision he receives from heaven. He weeps bitterly because a universal search is made for someone who is worthy to open the Scroll of Destiny held in God’s right hand. Alas, no one is found who can do so. That means God’s good plans for the world will be thwarted. His vision for human redemption and cosmic restoration cannot be realized. In the end, evil wins, and all hope is lost. John is devastated. But then he’s invited to see that the Lion from the tribe of Judah is able to open the scroll. He turns to look, but instead of seeing a lion, he sees a lamb—slain yet risen—who is worthy to open the scroll. The message is clear: only Jesus can bring history to its rightful conclusion. That’s why all the hosts of heaven give Jesus the same response they give to Almighty God—exuberant praise and heartfelt worship. Indeed, God’s redemption in Christ transforms our outlook from despair to worship. Thanks to Jesus, the human race is never without hope because history itself will be redeemed.

Sermon Resources:

Contact This New Life directly for the sermon audio file.

Nativity

When Sonya and I were doing our undergraduate work at West Virginia University, we had the privilege of writing a few songs with Jon Swerens, my college roommate from Ohio. He was a wonderful keyboardist, and he had a Yamaha DX7 synthesizer with a multi-track recorder on it. That device enabled him to orchestrate our songs right there in the dorm.

During the Advent season of our junior year, the three of us were thinking deeply about the mystery of the Incarnation. I was a relatively new believer at the time, but I was eager to study, learn, and “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (2 Peter 3:18). Others who were in the faith before I was, including Jon, taught me a lot about Christian orthodoxy and orthopraxy. Those days in the dorm with Jon were magical, and I was blessed to serve as the best man in his wedding after graduation.

In November-December of our junior year, we wound up writing a Christmas song titled, “Fully Human, Fully God.” It was our best attempt to express all that we understood to be true of the enfleshment of God in Christ in Bethlehem two millennia ago. We tried to make the song as majestic as we could, pushing it to crescendo like most other power ballads of the day, something fit for a king. Something fit for the King.

The lyrics were thick, and the instrumentation was heavy. The message was lofty, and Sonya did it justice with her operatic pipes. Sandi Patty couldn’t have done it better. In the end, it wasn’t a great piece, but we thought it was a respectable effort for a couple of novice songwriters. We gave it B/B+.

The project wore us out. All that study. All that theology. All that writing and re-writing. All that struggle to capture the mystery and majesty of God becoming one of us in the person of Christ. We were physically and emotionally drained—right at the time we were supposed to be gearing up for finals.

One night as we were reflecting on the project, we quickly agreed that we had missed something. We were all a bit unsatisfied with what we had produced, and yet it was hard to put our finger on exactly why. At one point I said something along the lines of: “You know, for all that complex theology and soaring orchestration, we dare not ever miss the simplicity of Christmas—and the humble, childlike response we’re supposed to have to it.”

As it turns out, that was the missing piece. Jon quietly processed our postmortem, stilled himself before the Lord over the next few days, and then started writing again. After sharing with me his nascent thoughts and simple melody, I suggested a few lines and rhymes, along with a title for the new composition. We called it, “Nativity.”

Musically, Jon nailed it. It was so simple. So gentle. So light. So peaceful. Neither the instrumentation nor the theology was heavy or profound, but as Oswald Chambers once said, “Beware of posing as a profound person—God became a baby.” Quite significantly, we were much more satisfied with this second attempt. The first song touched our minds, but the second one touched our hearts.

I wish I still had the original soundtrack, but the recording is lost to history. I can reproduce the basic melody and chord structure on a keyboard, but Jon’s expert orchestration is gone, except in our memories. Consequently, I’ll just share the lyrics below. They came to mind last week while I was playing with Samuel and Levi.

Those beautiful boys make my heart overflow with love and gratitude on a regular basis—not unlike what happens to me when I ponder the Incarnation each December. They remind me of the childlike response we’re supposed to have to “Emmanual,” God with us—even after we’ve long since grown up.

Nativity

Let me be your angel singing loud and clear
“Jesus Christ is born”
Let me be your shepherd leaving flocks behind
Just to see the Lord
I owned an inn before
I shrugged and closed the door
Help me leave the world behind
Let me worship you

Let me be your star burning bright and far
For all to see
Let me be your swaddling clothes
Warm your heart in me
O let me be that night
When all was calm and bright
Let me be your manger, Lord
Come and rest in me

Floating through Life (Updated)

Much of my time involves trying to paint pictures with words. Such is the nature of sermon writing—and even certain kinds of academic papers. But I also get to help generate flyers, postcards, PowerPoint slides, and other printed or digital material with graphical components. The mix is enjoyable, and I love being able to do both in my line of work.

For the past couple months, I’ve been collaborating with a few artistic folks in our church to create a float for the upcoming holiday parade in our town. It’s a simple Nativity scene design, but it’s one that will rise to about 11 feet off the ground—12 when it’s placed on the trailer.

Jesus said when he is lifted up, he would draw all people to himself, which is why we’re doing this in the first place. We want our neighbors to come to know him. His life-changing love is for everyone. The irony is that the float will be lifting him up at the moment of his shocking descent, which we call “Christmas,” when the second Person of the divine Trinity stepped across the stars of the universe and enfleshed himself to become one of us. It’s the miracle of all miracles, and it is as disarming as it is profound.

The sides of the elevation platform will feature signs with our church’s name and public tagline, “Christ Community Church: A Place to Hope, a Place to Heal.” Walkers will be passing out candy canes to the crowd, with invitations to the Christmas Eve candlelight service, my favorite worship experience of the church year.

Today we started the painting phase. All components have been primed, and tomorrow we will try to add the colors. Our small team of “elves” is having a blast. As we work, I silently pray that Jesus will do some widespread “drawing” on parade day, Saturday, November 30. Atter all, the greatest Christmas present people could ever receive is Jesus himself.

Float creation in the church garage.

Progress Update

My friend Dan is helping with the carpentry.

Totally unrelated: I may need to post a picture of myself (which I hate to do) because I grew a goatee for No-Shave November. Most people are saying I should keep it. Maybe I should take an online poll. 🙂

The Hand-off

I told my sister recently that I remember driving with my parents to go pick her up in Allentown many years ago, though the precise location is one I cannot recall. Our parents, Carl and Cherie Valentino, of Reading, had already adopted my brother Bobby and me (from Bethlehem and Philadelphia, respectively), and they were now adding a girl to the mix.

That girl turned out to be a vivacious little spitfire they called, “Ronni Sue,” a name with connections to good friends of theirs. The nice agency folks in Allentown handed her off to us, and then we took her home. (As far as I was concerned, that’s where babies came from. You just go somewhere, pick them up, and bring them home.)

On the drive back to our house, Bobby and I let Ronni Sue sit between us so we could both talk to her and get to know her. She smiled a lot and spoke the language of a toddler. We were off to a good start, no doubt because Mom and Dad had prepared us for such a unique encounter.

Many handoffs would follow. We handed Ronni off to kindergarten, then to middle school, and then to high school. We handed her off to a variety of dates and duds over the years, and then to marriage and motherhood. We handed her off to various locations and occupations taking her to numerous cities, towns, residences, and even a houseboat.

This morning at a care facility in Baltimore, I took Ronni’s hand, sensing her journey on earth was nearing its completion. At 8:23 a.m., she took her last breath, with her hand still in mine. It was a sacred moment. And it was my honor to hand her off to Jesus.

Though still scarred, the hands of Jesus are gentle, loving, strong, and pulsating with life.

Forever.

What a hope we have in the risen Christ.

So, good night, dear sister.

Because of Easter, I know our hands will touch again.

Grave Errors: What Not to Miss at the Empty Tomb (Luke 24:1-8)

Three friends were talking in a restaurant one day when the conversation turned to dying. They asked each other what they would like said about them at their funerals. The first man said, “I’d like someone to talk about my career success and all the good things I did for people during my life.” The second man said, “I’d like someone to talk about what a great husband and father I was, and how much I loved my family and took care of them.” The third man said, “I’d like someone to say, ‘Look! He’s moving!’”


That’s the story of Easter. Jesus was dead on Friday, but on Sunday morning he was moving again. In fact, the Greek word for resurrection is anastasia, which literally means “to stand again.” Unfortunately, it’s sometimes hard to see what’s right in front of our face. That’s the story of the women who come to Jesus’s tomb on that first Easter Sunday. There’s a vitally important truth staring them in the face, but they can’t see it yet. We might not have seen it, either.

The women come on Sunday morning to finish the burial they had started Friday afternoon. The Sabbath was approaching, so they had to cut short their preparations. Consequently, they come back the following day to finish the job. When they get there, they find that the stone had been rolled away, and the tomb is now empty. Jesus’ body is gone. Verse 4 tells us they started “wondering” about this. (Who wouldn’t have?)

The good news is they don’t stay in the dark very long. God tells them directly what happened. Two men in radiant garments give them the explanation. According to the other gospels, these men are “angels” or “messengers” from God. The whole scene reminds us that Christian faith rests entirely on hearing, believing, and resting in what God has spoken.

Without divine revelation, these women would have stared at the empty tomb for hours and debated what it could possibly mean. That’s what happens when we think Jesus is still dead. We miss it completely. Specifically, there are three things these women miss—and they’re the same things people often miss today. They miss the miracle of the resurrection; they miss the meaning of the resurrection; and they miss the marvel of the resurrection. They make three “grave errors,” but in all three cases, the gift of divine revelation gets them back on track. Specifically:

  • They see Jesus as a good man but not the God-man.
  • They see Jesus as a prophet but not the fulfillment of prophecy.
  • They see Jesus as a religious duty but not a real-life delight.

In love, God corrects their fuzzy vision with lenses of truth. In time, they come to see the grand reality that the resurrection of Jesus changes everything—from here to eternity. They come to see that Easter really happened, Easter really matters, and Easter really transforms. We can see it, too, for Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.

Sermon Resources:

Contact This New Life directly for the sermon audio file.

Thank God It’s Friday, Part 2: The Word of Assurance (Luke 23:35-43)

There’s a saint and a sinner on Mount Calvary. What separates them is Jesus. In Luke 23:35-43, we find Jesus hanging between two criminals—one a scoffer and one a brand-new believer. Having mocked Jesus earlier during the crucifixion (Mark 15:32), this “repentant thief” has a change of heart at some point, asking Jesus to remember him when he comes into his kingdom. Jesus responds with memorable words of grace and assurance: “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

With death approaching, the repentant thief begins to fear God and take responsibility for his own wrongdoing. Perhaps his heart was softened by the prayer of forgiveness that Jesus had prayed earlier (Luke 23:34). Showing both courage and confidence, he takes a public stand for Jesus, expressing his belief that Jesus would have a life beyond the cross. As a result, the man learns he would be spending eternity with Jesus in heaven. Nowhere in Scripture is it clearer that salvation is by grace through faith.

Throughout this series, we’re looking for both the “good news” and the “good life” in each of these sayings from the cross. That is, each statement has in it divine grace for us to receive (1 Corinthians 15:1-4) and a divine example for us to follow (1 Peter 2:21). Practical applications, then, abound from this second saying of Christ from the cross:

  • Jesus dies in the company of unbelievers, attracting them to God. 
  • Believers should live in the company of unbelievers, attracting them to God.
  • Jesus dies refusing to retaliate for the insults and injuries inflicted on him.
  • Believers should live refusing to retaliate for the insults and injuries inflicted on him.
  • Jesus dies submitting to God’s agenda rather than to the world’s agenda.
  • Believers should live submitting to God’s agenda rather than to the world’s agenda.
  • Jesus dies speaking words of hope and encouragement to the hurting.
  • Believers should live speaking words of hope and encouragement to the hurting.
  • Jesus dies helping someone in a similar predicament as himself. 
  • Believers should live helping someone in a similar predicament as themselves.
  • Jesus dies serving someone who is totally unable to return the favor. 
  • Believers should live serving someone who is totally unable to return the favor.
  • Jesus dies joining God where he is at work, sharing the good news. 
  • Believers should live joining God where he is at work, sharing the good news.

In short, the message of this second saying from the cross is twofold: Humble yourself to receive the gift of Jesus, and pattern your life after the death of JesusIt’s still true today—what separates saints and sinners is Jesus. Thankfully, God in Christ can respond to the faintest cry in the last moments of a person’s life (cf. Rom 10:13). Including ours.

On a Personal Note

Don Francisco used to sing a gospel folk song called “Too Small a Price,” told from the vantage point of this repentant thief on the cross. Francisco came to a meeting of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes in the Towers 3 dormitory at West Virginia University back in the day when the Lord was pursuing me big time. This song, more than all the others he sang that night, bore deep into my soul, and it was instrumental in my own conversion to Christ. I’ll place a recording of it below for those who may not have heard it.

Though the agony continued there it was still too small a price
To be allowed to hear those words, and to die beside the Christ.
Don Francisco

Sermon Resources:

“Too Small a Price” by Don Francisco

Contact This New Life directly for the sermon audio file.

Thank God It’s Friday, Part 1: The Word of Forgiveness (Luke 23:32-37)

The first statement of Jesus from the cross is, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). One can hardly think of a more unlikely thing for Jesus to say, given the circumstances in which he says it. Crucifixion was designed to be maximally painful. As the ancients said, to be crucified was to “die a thousand deaths.”

As such, this gracious prayer is spoken from inside the vortex of a living hell on earth. Jesus does not defend his innocence or curse his enemies; rather, he prays for those who are torturing him. Indeed, he is practicing what he preached about forgiveness, which is noteworthy because he has the power to stop the entire ordeal. But the removal of our sin is more important to Jesus than the removal of his own suffering, so he endures the pain. 

Mercifully, a great exchange is taking place here at Calvary (1 Peter 3:18; 2 Corinthians 5:21). “Bearing shame and scoffing rude / In my place condemned he stood.” God didn’t sweep our sins under the rug; he swept them onto Christ. Jesus takes our place and dies our death. What Jesus is really praying here is, “Father, forgive them, and condemn me. Charge their wrongdoing to my account, and I will pay the cost.” In the cross of Christ, then, we see what God has done about what we have done. For God to take our part, he had to take our place. And he does so in Christ. 

Moreover, though immersed in agony, Jesus died believing in the goodness of God despite the wickedness of man—as revealed by the fact that his first word from the cross is, “Father.” His steadfast faith is the kind of faith we need to extend forgiveness to others, too, which is always difficult. We tend to attribute other people’s faults to their character, and our own faults to our environment. The cross challenges that perspective, for as Jesus himself taught us to pray, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.” When we don’t forgive others, we tear down the very bridge we need to walk on to connect with God. Forgiving those who’ve wronged us is actually the key to not being victimized or controlled by them any longer.

In the end, if the murder of the Son of God is forgivable, then your sin—whatever it may be—is forgivable, too. So, accept your acceptance from God, and then forgive others as Christ forgave you—gracefully and extravagantly.

Sermon Resources:

Series: Thank God It’s Friday: Living Words from Our Dying Savior

Contact This New Life directly for the sermon audio file.