hope that’s real

beauty in darkness: what’s good about “Good Friday”

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 4 Comments

I had skimmed over the verse countless times in the 30+ years I’ve read and meditated and studied this familiar account. Good Friday is the time to read the crucifixion story. A story of horror turned beautiful. Yet if you’re like me, too often I jump to the “turned beautiful” part without staying with the horror of what Jesus endured. It’s uncomfortable to sit with the events that culminated in the most gruesome of deaths on a Roman cross. But this week – this Holy Week – asks us to do just that. To sit. To see. To hear. Because in the horror, we are saved. We are deserving of all that the King of Glory endured innocently. And we who bear his name are called to endure similar suffering for the sake of love. Love enters into the messy, the broken, even the so-gruesome-you-can’t-bear-to-hear-it and Love takes it. Love endures. It does not run away. It stays. It shows up.

What feels impossible for you to endure today (and yet you must because of Love)? How can Good Friday become truly “good” for you today? What brokenness do you run from in your own heart and in the lives of those around you?

In my calling as a counselor, I often sit with those who have endured stories of abuse that are too difficult to name. And to think that what I have a hard time hearing is what they lived through. Well, that causes you to pause. To pray. To beg for redemption, for healing, for a Justice to make it all right. 

On Good Friday, we are given just that. Not only in the cross, but in the events leading up to the cross. Here’s the verse that stopped me in my tracks this morning (from Matthew 27:27):

Then the soldiers of the governor took Jesus into the governor’s headquarters, and they gathered the whole battalion before him.

Do you know how many soldiers are in a battalion? I didn’t either, so I checked the footnote and saw that a battalion is “a tenth of a Roman legion; usually about 600 men.” 600 men. Quite different than movies who portray this portion of the scene with a couple soldiers kicking Jesus around. That’s bad enough, but this has an arena quality to it. 600 soldiers. That’s a very full auditorium hall. And what did they gather to do? Well, read on:

And they stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on his head and put a reed in his right hand. And kneeling before him, they mocked him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ And they spit on him and took the reed and struck him on the head. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him and led him away to crucify him.

Utterly shameful. Shameful if it’s an audience of one, but for these horrors to happen before an arena-size audience of 600? Shame magnified. Shame too great for words. Twice he was stripped of his clothes. In addition to the emotional abuse of this mockery, there was the physical abuse of being “crowned” with thorns and beat on the head with a reed. What is striking is Jesus’ response. Nothing. The one who was God incarnate – who could have called down fire from heaven to devour these fools – stayed still and endured. That is the miracle. The miracle that turns bad into good, abuse into redemption, mockery into honor.

Centuries before, a prophet called Isaiah wrote about this and puts words to the what and the why of all that Jesus endured on “Good” Friday:

Surely he has borne our grief
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed. …
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth …

Because Jesus did not open his mouth when enduring abuse, we can open our mouths and beg for healing and redemption. Healing from our own abuse and from the ways we have abused and oppressed others through our sin – through our brokenness seeking false healings.

In the place of your abuse, there is healing. Because he took the shame for you.

In the place of my sin, there is peace. Because he carried the guilt for me.

In the places where you and I have been silenced, our voice is restored. Because his was silenced this Good Friday.

So go. Walk as one who is healed, who is at peace, who can speak up and speak out and speak of darkness turned beautiful on this most good of Fridays. 

out with ’08, in with ’09

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 1 Comment

I was chatting with a friend over tea this afternoon, and she’s had one heck of a 2008. Many different layers of difficulties and trials. She said that she’s ready for 2008 to go. And then we were imagining together what it would be like if truly every bad part of the old year really did go out with the flip of the calendar. Old wounds instantly healed; chronic health problems solved; broken families put back together; destructive consequences of our sin and brokenness erased. Imagine … isn’t that an almost too-good-to-be-true thought?

And it is too good to be true while we yet remain on the earth. Tomorrow might actually feel new for a few minutes, hours, perhaps even days (certainly when my gym is crowded again with the “new year’s resolution crowd”). The calendar will display a new set of pictures. I’ll still be enjoying my new computer (I’m a big fan of MacBooks now). Reflecting on 2008 will bring new insights for 2009. And dreaming/wishing/hoping about 2009 will bring new energy to my focus, goals, and endeavors.

But I’ll still be struggling with how to love the unlovable, how to worry less about what I can’t control anyway, how to be more balanced in work and rest, how to be content with what wears on me.

And I think that might be part of why Revelation was written in the Bible. For when I open these pages, I find promises that seem too good to be true — yet they come from the God who never lies. And they tell about a world to come for those who believe in Christ who is bringing it into being. I hope you’ll be in awe with me, and that this gives you real hope for what’s new in 2009 … and beyond.

“They shall hunger no more; neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” (Revelation 7:15-17)

home for Christmas

/ Heather Davis Nelson / 1 Comment

As I write this post, the fire is crackling in the fireplace at my parents’ home in SC, I’ve got my comfortable LLBean img_3111slippers on (thanks, Mom & Dad Nelson!), and I am finally relaxed. Our “Christmas break” is well underway, which began wiimg_31181th a wonderful three days spent with the Nelsons in New Jersey. We went to NYC to see the “Rockettes” at Radio City Music Hall, ate at Seth’s favorite Italian family-style restaurant, Carmine’s, and then had “Christmas” on Friday. Snow came down all day — it truly felt like we were in a winter wonderland. We ate, opened presents, ate, slept, and ate some more … truly a relaxing and celebratory day!

There is really nothing quite like home for Christmas — whether it’s Millington, NJ (for Seth) or Greenville, SC, for me. It was great last night to be greeted by the “Davis family elves” last night at the airport (a.k.a. my brothers and sister-in-law); to attend church at the place that’s nurtured my faith in Christ since I was a child; and to be surrounded by the family I love so much and who lives so far away. There’s just something so comforting about knowing you belong and that you’re known. I loved that when Seth, Bryan, and I walked in just before Sunday evening’s church service, the usher at the back immediately directed us to the pew where the Davis family was sitting. I didn’t have to ask or explain — he just knew us. As much as I love new places and exploration, I equally love the comfort of the familiar. Of the rest that comes from this … like an inward sigh of relief.img_3140

And the complication of our journey to get here last night only makes us appreciate it all the more. Bear with me as a I recount another of my traveling adventures (I’ve had more than my share — in my opinion — but the others will be for another post). We were scheduled to fly out with Northwest Airlines through Memphis, TN, to arrive into Greenville (GSP from this point forward) at 9:30 p.m. However, they oversold our flight from Philly to Memphis, and they asked us if we would volunteer to move to a different flight for travel vouchers. Perhaps we’re mercenaries, but we figured it would be worth it and wouldn’t be that inconvenient. It even promised to be better than the original one since the flight they re-booked us for was a direct flight into GSP arriving around the same time. However, it was with USAirways (and my litany of bad travel has been with them historically). And each time we checked the board over the next few hours, the flight was delayed more and more …. until it was canceled at 7:00 pm. So we stood in line and waited … and waited … and waited … and were able to be rebooked … for a flight going into Charlotte, NC (1.5 hours away from GSP). We were thrilled to be arriving last night. And my family was willing to make the trek in their “sleigh” to pick us up. So a very happy and very tired Seth and Heather were greeted by “elves” around 11:00 pm last night — and finally made our way to home sweet home by 1:00 a.m.! (of course, our luggage wasn’t so fortunate to make the trip with us — but it did follow only a day later and we now have it in our possession — again, not unusual since my bags have not made it with me over the past several flights to GSP I’ve taken over the past few years)

Isn’t Christmas and being home better because of the journey? And isn’t it much better because of the journey that img_31222God made, coming to earth as a baby to be born in a manger, to be called Jesus, our Savior and Redeemer? The journey that God took which would guarantee that one day all of those who believe in Christ would be able to journey Home to the place where we are fully known … that is worth dreaming of, hoping in, and celebrating this Christmas. A home that makes the best earthly homes pale in comparison and which gives hope to those who have had homes which were a far cry from any place lovely or familiar or comfortable. May the One whose birth we celebrate be the One whose Home we long for and anticipate this Christmas!

true hope in a troubled time

/ Heather Davis Nelson / Leave a comment

As an American in tune with the news of the day (and often the hour thanks to news radio), I find it inescapable to realize that life as we’ve known it is undergoing a drastic change. People are losing their assets, their jobs, their homes, and with all of it their hope.  Or are they?

It seems as if we as a culture are experiencing the reality that hope cannot be stored in money. It’s a truth we try not to live by as Americans who are wealthy by the world’s standards. We buy what we do not need with money we do not have. And at some point, the security promised by money and material possessions evaporates. Yet that fits with ancient wisdom. Listen to this, penned centuries ago by a Biblical writer: “Those who love money will never have enough. How meaningless to think that wealth brings true happiness!” And see if this doesn’t sound like it was written just for us today: “There is another serious problem I have seen under the sun. Hoarding riches harms the saver. Money is put into risky investments that turn sour, and everything is lost.” Both are from the book of Ecclesiastes, found in the Old Testament (chapter 5, verses 10, 13, 14).

The question before us today is similar to the one that confronted the philosopher of Ecclesiastes. What is worth living for and hoping in? Our American answer for troubled times is quite different than that of Ecclesiastes. It’s as if we’ve shifted our hope from Wall Street to the White House. The new President will be our savior. He will bolster the economy with his proposed tax cuts (and raises), reform healthcare in the U.S. either through a tax credit or by offering a universal plan, bail out bad mortgages, bring peace to the Middle East. Really? All of that power will be held by one man?

I beg to differ. I think our hopes are misguided if we think either Obama or McCain can do all that’s promised. On November 4th, I will be going to the polls to cast my vote as a responsible citizen, but I have a hope that transcends the outcome of the election (one way or the other). God is King over all, and His Kingdom is one that can’t be shaken (regardless of how much my earthly kingdom is shaken). It will be realized one day.

I don’t know when, but I am hoping because I see evidence of that Kingdom already breaking in on earth. My life has been changed by Jesus Christ. And it is being changed by Jesus Christ. I am not yet what I will be, but there are glimpses and hints. Seth and I don’t fight as often or as tenaciously as we did in our first year of marriage. I give in more often (and so does he). I don’t say everything that pops into my head. I think before speaking (amazing concept, I know). When I inevitably screw up, I am slightly quicker to ask forgiveness from him. And I could go on. If I am being changed, and I see others’ lives who are being changed in similar ways through a relationship with Christ. Through Cresheim Valley Church and my job as a counselor at Chelten Baptist Church, I am part of communities of people whose lives are being transformed (and I get to watch and sometimes be part of that!). There is hope that transcends our shaky economy and uncertain politics.

And the writer of Ecclesiastes agrees. He sums it up as follows: “That’s the whole story. Here’s my final conclusion: Fear God and obey his commands, for this is everyone’s duty.” (chapter 12, verse 13)