I’m going to vent for a few moments.  So put on  your vent goggles, I don’t want anything to get in your eyes.  I’m venting about… responsibility — as in taking responsibility.  

My mom and dad were here for about 9 days including Easter weekend.  It was great having them here!  They flew into Pittsburgh, so I picked them up the Monday of Easter week and they flew back home this morning.  I had a fairly full day planned for today — so last week, through Priceline I reserved a car for them…a one way rental…so they could drive to Pittsburgh.   I had a reservation and a confirmation.  I had numbers that were official stating that I would have a car.  I printed out my -ations with numbers and headed to Alamo.

You may have heard Alamo’s motto?  “No Waiting for Check-ins.”  Little did I know how they would fulfill their motto.  We got to the car rental place at the appropriate time, -ations in hand…  only to be told, “Sorry we don’t have a car to give you.”

• “What?  You don’t have a car? I saw a whole lot of cars in the lot.”
• “Yes but we don’t have any that you can take to Pittsburgh.”
• “Oh you mean you don’t do one-way rentals?”
• “No we do one-way rentals, but we don’t have one that you can take.”
• “But I have a confirmation, reservation, numbers.”
• “Sorry.”
• “But how can you do that?  What are you going to do to make this right?”
• “Sorry there is nothing I can do.  It’s not our responsibility.”

Now the conversation went on longer than that because I really couldn’t believe what I was being told.  But the essence was, “It’s not my responsibility.”  So I called Priceline.  I received profuse apologies.  In fact I am certain that the customer service reps are trained to apologize at ever possible point.  But the apology was always followed by a “but” as in “but there is nothing we can do,” or “but it’s not our responsibility.”  I tried everything I could.  I even asked to speak to someone higher up.  The gentleman told me that I was as high as I could go.  I guess I was speaking to the owner.  :)

Now as an aside because it’s part of my story, but not part of my point — So I drove my parents to the airport this morning.  We left at 5:30am (I went to bed about 1:30am).  Then on the way home my car died on 22 between Murraysville and Johnstown.  So I called AAA, waited an hour, then he towed me to a little garage in Johnstown.  I missed two appointments, but had a nice ride home with a friend who rescued me from a night spent in Johnstown waiting for my car.)

So here is the point — when no one takes responsibility, relationships get broken.  If either Priceline or Alamo had taken even a small amount of responsibility, they would have retained a customer.   With a “I’m sorry, we messed up, could I give you a coupon for a future days rental — or a chocolate-dipped cone from Dairy Queen (where did that come from?) our relationship would have been saved.  I would’ve said, “Ah shucks we all make mistakes, this one is going to cost me, but I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility.  Don’t worry I’ll work something out.”

If you go back and read the first story (Genesis — Adam, Eve — Garden) you will see that Adam’s major miscue was that at some point he said, “she’s (Eve) not my responsibility.”  I wonder how many good relationships went bad because no one wanted to take responsibility?  On the other hand, great leaders are those who take responsibility — sometimes even for things they are not responsible for…  I sat with some friends the other day to work through some relational issues, the relational breakthroughs always come when someone takes responsibility.

But you have to take responsibility for the right things.  Take responsibility for your character.  Take responsibility for the other persons’s unmet needs.  Take responsibility to serve.   Take responsibility for your mistakes or failures.  Take responsibility to forgive and to apologize.  Don’t take responsibility to point out their junk.  That’s just a more active way of saying, “I’m not responsible.”

I want to share two different blogs with you…that last week dealt with the reality of the resurrection from two completely different angles.

 Steve Lutz writes a blog called “The Sentinel.”  He has a series of three great apologetic posts about the validity of the resurrection.  Click The Sentinel to go to the first one and then just click to the next two.

Heather Halleman has a somewhat different — in the moment — take on the reality of the resurrection at her blog entitled “Live with Flair.”  Just click The Flair Disaster to read her resurrection story.

Then if you weren’t able to join us for Easter weekend and you have another 35 minutes or so — our Resurrection Sunday message was on Hope.  You can listen to it here

I’m still basking in the hope of resurrection.

Belly flop into Easter?  No not a new liturgical tradition for the Easter season, but follow me for just a moment.  In Luke 24:1-5, a moment of the Easter Story is shared… Luke writes,

On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they didn’t find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightening stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

The last week of Jesus’ life is filled with questions, this is one of my favorites.  Why do you look for the living among the dead?  Why do you look for life in the land of death?  Why do you think your dreams have hit a dead-end in a cememtary?  Why do you seek the fulfillment of your dreams from things that die?

In the Centre Region, we talk alot about the good life.  It’s Happy Valley.  How could we live anything but the good life in a place called Happy Valley?   But talk to people in the Centre Region about the good life and before long you may discover a few little secrets that none of us like to talk about.  For example people are struggling with disappointment, discouragement, and even despair.

Saturday is the lonely day of the Easter weekend.  Good Friday has a purpose — we remember the death of Jesus.  Easter Sunday has  a  purpose — we celebrate the resurrection hope of Jesus.  What do we do in the in-between?  The in-between is that season between betrayal and hope.  It is the season of doubt, the season where we have been hit by the hurt of Friday but we don’t know if Sunday is coming.

Saturday is the season of choosing.  It is the season where we will choose to hang on to Good Friday hurts or belly flop into Easter Hope.

Yeah I chose the words belly flop for a reason.  If you really want to experience Easter hope you have to let go and dive in — but if you dive in, it’s going to leave a mark.  Belly Flop into Easter.

Nationwide church attendance is up about 25% on Easter Sunday.  Which leads to the question, “Why?”  What is it that draws us to church on Easter?  Is it the Easter egg hunts?  Is it the annual sing-along to the Hallelujah chorus?  Is it the cash incentives?  (Got your attention with that one right?  You’re thinking — where is that church?)

This weekend at Calvary we are looking at a Easter story that many know as the “Emmaus Road.”  The Emmaus Road symbolizes Good Friday Living — a place where dreams have died, discouragement is your companion and “what-if’s” season your conversation.  It’s the road of hard times, dark days, and confusion.  It’s also the road where we begin to wonder if God even has a clue.

So here is the essence of the Emmaus road story.  Two of Jesus followers are walking the seven mile stretch from Jerusalem to Emmaus. They are sad, discouraged, confused.  Their leader has died and with him their hope.  At some point the resurrected Jesus sneaks up on them, but they are “kept from recognizing” that it’s Jesus.  Jesus asks them, “What’s wrong?”   They answer… “Are you the only one  in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have happened there in these days?”

I think that is so hilariously ironic.  It makes me chuckle.  They think that the only one who REALLY knows what is going on — is REALLY the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.

I just wonder how often we still treat Jesus the same way?  In the midst of our tough times, we think Jesus is the only one in the world who doesn’t know what’s going on, when really he is the only one who really does know what’s going on.

So let me ask you this… if Jesus really does know what’s going on and he really does care… if you believe that, how will you view your particular “Good Friday” set of circumstances?

So this video from the “Skit Guys” has been making the mini-rounds.  It’s a parody of a couple of Christians reaching out to their neighbors.  It made me laugh…and it made me think.  It put me into a “what’s wrong with this picture?” evaluation.  So watch the video and then I’ll share my what’s-wrong thoughts.

1) He’s giving sweater-vests a bad name!  If you know me, you know I appreciate a good sweater-vest.  I’m really bummed thinking that people might assume that all sweater-vest wearers are like him.  :)

2) He has to introduce himself to his neighbor.  Jesus said that the second greatest commandment is to love our neighbors like we love ourselves.  Which is worse for a non-follower of Jesus to only show up at church on Christmas or Easter?  or  For a follower of Jesus to only talk to their neighbors the day before Christmas and Easter?   I realize sometimes evangelism is an on the spot encounter with someone I don’t know, but when it’s an actual geographical neighbor — shouldn’t relationship precede invitation?

3) Hypocrisy:  The pagan neighbors have trashy secular easter decorations, but it’s okay for the Christians to use easter eggs as an evangelistic strategy.  I’m just wondering who needs to hang on to that big ol’ sin egg?

4) Take a breath!  The Jesus-followers don’t listen much and when they finally do listen — they have no idea what to do next.  The most effective evangelism involves listening.  Listening to people and listening to God.

5) They missed a divine appointment.  He said yes.  God had prepared his heart so well that neither “easter eggs representing something you did wrong” nor smiles that show more than teeth, could stop him from saying yes.  But they missed it.  Good evangelism is a work of the Spirit of God, don’t miss the Spirit’s lead.

6) They didn’t expect a yes.  Jesus once said that the harvest (people interested in God) is plentiful but the workers are few.  We tend to believe that the harvest is small and there are plenty of workers.  Go to your neighbor with an expectation (it’s called faith in Jesus-book) that God is already at work.

7)  The one thing right with this picture?  Golf is a pagan game.  :)

I love this song by Phil Wickham.  It’s a good cross song.  Listen and ask God to amaze you with his love.

A few years ago, John Eldridge was on a business trip to Oregon.  He snuck away for some time alone with God, down to the beach where he walked and prayed and finally sat in the sand to watch the waves.   Then he saw it.  A huge plume of water shot up into the sky, and a massive humpback whale appeared before him, impossibly close to shore.

 No one else was near.  The time of the whale’s annual migration had long passed.  John knew immediately that this was a gift from God to his heart alone, a gift from the lover of his soul.

John told his wife Stasi, his story — and she was happy for him — but it made her hungry for a whale of her own.  Not long after this they were both in Northern California speaking at a couple’s retreat and one morning she snuck away for some alone-time — you guessed it — at the beach.  She sat on the sand and asked God for a whale.  She writes,

I felt a little silly in asking, for I knew the truth –that God had already proven his love for me.  He had sent his only Son Jesus to die for me.  He had rescued me.  He had given me all of creation…  He had given me the Word of God in all it’s depth and beauty and here I was asking for more.

But still she asked God for her whale.  I know you love John, she prayed, but Jesus do you love me too?  That much?   If you do,  may I have a whale too?  She waited awhile and then with no whale in sight got up to leave.  It was early spring, northern California, waves crashing on the rocky coast.  She picked her way around a outcropping of rocks and looked down to discover a solitary beautiful orange starfish. She knew immediately that it was God’s gift to her.  God’s kiss.

Not a whale, but something unique for her.  He had answered her question.  Yes I love you.  She said thank you as she rounded another outcropping of rock…to come upon the a sight she will never forget.  She writes,

There before me, behind me, surrounding me, were hundrerds of starfish.  Zillions of them.  There were purple ones, orange ones and blue ones, all sizes.  I burst into joyful laughter, my heart exploding inside me. God didn’t just love me.  He LOOOOOVED me!

Easter is a season to celebrate the LOOOOOVE of God for us.

Maybe right now you look at the cross and it’s enough for you, maybe you find yourself in a place where you would like a whale or a starfish of your own.  Ask Him and then watch and listen.  He LOOOOOVES you.

It was about 15 years ago, we — the Nold family — were on our way back from a conference and tomorrow would be Sarah’s birthday — July 4th. We were somewhere in Ohio, so we told Sarah it was her choice, we can spend the night in Ohio and go to Ceder’s Point on her birthday, or we can keep driving and go to the State College fireworks extravaganza on her birthday.

So there we are walking around the Bryce Jordan Center on July 4th. Sarah’s choice — the fireworks. The fireworks are a big deal in State College, lots of people. We sampled some of the festivities and towards evening we made our way to our mini-van parked in a nearby field. Our plan was to watch the fireworks from there. Lynn climbed into the van with Jake (about 3). She wrapped him in blankets so he couldn’t hear the fireworks — unfortunately earlier that evening we found that he was deathly afraid of fireworks. Sarah (about 7), Katy (about 5) and I climbed up on top of the mini-van with blankets to watch the display.

Sarah sat beside me. Katy sat on my lap. I was rubbing her ear (she had an ear ache) and holding her. The fireworks were incredible…choreographed to the music…and there off in the background… occasionally God got in on the act with a bolt of lightening and I’m thinking there’s a good illustration for a future sermon — no matter what we try to do, God can do more and better. But after awhile, I thought, “no…frankly God, the fireworks are producing more wonder and awe in me than those piddling little lightening strikes.

That bothered me…we shouldn’t be able to do anything better than God…It bothered me that the fireworks might produce more awe in me than something God could do.

And then I looked at Sarah, it’s her birthday and all day long I’ve been doing everything I can to make her day special — give her a birthday she will remember. And then I looked down…at Katy lying in me arms…her face was shillouted by the light of the fireworks… and as I looked at my daughters, God spoke in my heart. He said, “THIS IS WHAT I CAN DO…” and I said, “Awwwwh”

And in that moment I was just overwhelmed with love for my daughters. I sat there, watching Katy, and the fireworks, watching Sarah watch the fireworks. It was like a hallmark movie moment — background music, fireworks and this love-burst in my heart. We were having a moment. In between fireworks…I leaned down and whispered in Katy’s ear, I said, “Katy, oh Katy, I love you so much.”

And she looked up at me…with a Katy kind of look and in a lilting musical voice said………..”I don’t care.” :) And the hallmark moment dissolved. Oh but I’m convinced that if she would have known the intensity of the love that I felt for her in that moment. She never would have been able to look at me and say, “I don’t care.”

See the problem is we don’t know. We just don’t know how much we are loved by God. People don’t care about God, because very few people really believe that God loves them. But I am convinced that if we could experience the intensity and the reality of God’s love…we would not be able to look to the skies and whisper, I don’t care.

Have you ever been loved like that? I mean with great intensity, a strong, forever, maybe even reckless kind of love. When we’re loved like that it does something to us. You know? It’s exhilirating. To be loved like that gives you this kind of courageous self-confidence & contentment, like I think I can do anything, but I need nothing. I will fear no one, if I know you will love me like that forever.

That’s what I think of when I see the cross. God looking down at us and saying, “I love you so much.” How could I ever tell him that I don’t care?

As I said in a previous post (Passion of Christ) last week I was part of a panel discussing Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of Christ. One of the men on the panel — a wise, likeable guy — was Rabbi David Ostrich.  In the course of bringing a Jewish perspective to the movie he said words that I have been pondering ever since.  I can’t quote him exactly but my paraphrase is something like this…

To those of you who are Christians the crucifixion of Jesus is a horrific moment that became a core part of your faith.  To those of us who are Jews, the crucifixion of Jesus was one crucifixion among tens of thousands. This was one of the dark periods of Jewish history and  Jesus is one of many who Jewish men who died a horrific death on a cross.

In other words, the cross was not only a device of torture and death, it was common. It was as common then as it is now.  For example sometime between 73-71BC, a rebel slave revolt led in part by Spartacus resulted in the crucifixion of over 6000 slaves along the road between Capua and Rome — 125 miles filled with crosses.  The cross was common.

The scourging, the beating, the pain and suffering that Jesus experienced on the cross was common.  In fact in many cases, the pain and shame of a crucifixion could last for days.  The physical pain the Jesus experienced on the cross was common.

I needed to hear that.  I wonder — please don’t label me a heretic — if we have put so much emphasis on the suffering that Jesus experienced on the cross that we have missed what made a common cross — an UNcommon cross.  What makes Jesus’ cross an uncommon cross?

1) It was a sacrifice.  Freely given.  The Jews did not kill Jesus.  Pilate did not kill Jesus.  I did not kill Jesus.  Jesus did not deserve death. Jesus chose the cross. Jesus was a sacrifice.

2) It was for us.  He died for us.  He died the death we should have died so that we could have the life that he lives.

3) It was not the end.  In the case of every common cross experience up to the cross of Jesus, the cross was the end of the story.  In Jesus’ death was a “deeper magic” than the world had ever known.  I’m using a term from C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series.  In the first book (or movie) after Aslan — the representation of Christ — is killed on the great stone table, he rises from the dead.  When he appears, the stone table splits in two. Lucy and Susan ask Aslan what it all means.  Aslan says,

It means, that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge only goes back to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backwards.

Without the cross there is no resurrection, but without resurrection the cross is common.  Without Good Friday there is no Easter, but without Easter there is no hope.  Don’t dwell on the cross long — without letting your eyes be directed to the hope of an empty tomb.  He is risen.

One day Mark Mittleberg — then a pastor at Willow Creek Church in Chicago — was buying a few things at a grocery store, and decided to pick up some flowers for his wife, Heidi.  While waiting to pay, he struck up a conversation with an elderly woman who was waiting in line in front of him.   “I remember when my husband used to bring me flowers,” she said with a far-away look in her eyes and emotion in her voice.  “But he died many years ago.”

It was obvious to Mark how much she still missed her husband, even after all these years.  He tried to say something that would encourage her.  She made her purchases, said goodbye and left the store while his things were being rung up.  Suddenly, an idea hit him:  Go and give her your wife’s flowers!  He felt a mixture of excitement and embarrassment.  He quickly paid for his stuff, ran outside and found the woman walking across the parking lot.  He held out the bouqet to her and said,  “Your husband isn’t available to do this, so I’d like to give you these.”

It was just a little thing.  He didn’t throw himself in front of an oncoming car to save her life.  He didn’t hang on a cross.  They weren’t even great flowers — just your basic grocery store variety for goodness sake — but his gift made a deep impression.  In fact, she insisted that he come to her home for tea, and they had a great time of getting to know each other.

Since that day Mark and his family have lived in five different places.  Ten years later, they received a package in the mail with gifts for the children and a letter saying thank you.  The woman had gone to the effort of finding out where they now live.  In her letter she wrote, “Even now, ten years later, I still tell my friends about that act of kindness and how it encouraged me.”

It says something about our world when even the smallest of gifts become  the biggest of deals.  Do you want to be different?  Do you want to leave a mark?  Stand out in the crowded memories of someone’s heart?  Be kind.  Be selfless.  Be a giver.  Be generous like Jesus.  In fact you know what?  You won’t just be different.  You will be sought out.  You will be remembered by people you touch long after you leave their lives.

That is the nature of grace.  True grace is remembered.  The greater the generosity, the longer you will be remembered.

Which is why the world will never forget the cross — amazing grace.