who killed Jesus?

Who killed Jesus? The Jews? The Romans? Our sin?

Here's a little something Max Lucado wrote that really hit me hard:

"Not once did Christ use his supernatural powers for personal comfort. With one word he could've transformed the hard earth into a soft bed, but he didn't. With a wave of his hand, he could've bommeranged the spit of his accusers back into their faces, but he didn't. With an arch of his brow, he could've paralyzed the hand of the soldiers as he braided the crown of thorns. But he didn't."

Jesus allowed himself to be killed.

speechless

Just got home, after seeing PASSION at the cinemas this morning. I went with my friends, and all of us were hooting and hollering and having a good time before the lights darkened. We sunk into our seats, giddy and playful. The scene unfolded, the movie played out. The curtains fell. All of us were quiet--we stood, and quietly walked out the door. Crying everywhere. Tissues being wiped across faces. Heads low. Eyes distant. I looked at one of my friends, and he seemed completely out of it, staring into space. The entire movie flashed back and forth in my mind, from the gruesome scenes to those that touched my heart. I'd always known about how gruesome the torture and crucifixion had really been, quite contrary to those little, placid tidbits played out on earlier Jesus movies. I'd read many books detailing the torture and crucifixion. But not till today had I seen it in my own mind, and atop all of that was a higher plateau I had ventured to, almost a new reality--a quiet, serene tranquility that coursed through my soul, never forgetting the ultimate price Jesus paid for our sins. I stumbled out of that theatre, and my friends and I piled into the car, and headed for home. On the way there, we talked and were joking around; now it was silent; I stared out the window, the horrid images flashing through my mind, everything he endured, at his own choosing.

Heid it for me.

And for you.

See this movie, it's simply astounding.

on "the passion of the christ"

I go to see the Passion of the Christ Saturday, and I am PUMPED. Absorbing everything I can about it from the newspaper, TV, people who have seen it. My church has rented three theaters, I believe, to show the film, and lots of people have invited friends. I am not one of those who did, and for a very important reason (in my mind). As a friend stated on his own blog, the movie is a piece of art detailing Jesus' last days. I have to say, though, that I don't think this movie will be a very good witnessing tool to those who are searching for the truth, for God. For one, as an unbelieving friend of mine said, who would want to join a religion where the main guy was beaten and murdered? Two, the movie doesn't really pack a lot of the Message into it (this is all from reading and hearing the words of those who have seen it; I have not). And three, just because many of the unbelievers at my school who saw it thought it was a really sad story, but were turned off by it; after all, what kind of man goes through stuff like that and rises from the dead? The connection just--in their opinions--isn't there. And the last thing I want to do is hinder a friend from accepting Jesus. However, once I see the movie, maybe my views will change, and I'll take a friend to see it. As I said, I haven't seen the movie; if you have, please drop a line and tell me if you agree, disagree, whether or not you liked the movie, I'm fascinated!

week 8

and so it begins...

Monday. I didn't sleep well last night, tossing and turning and bothered by nightmares. I was glad to wake up. I napped on the couch before school with Doogie roaming around the living room. After school I worked a busy 4-8:00. I went to Chris & Lee's when I got off. Chris was there alone, and he wanted to show me a clip from a movie he'd seen, and it was the church clip from 28 Days Later. I really wanted to see but I also really wanted to eat, so I went home and watched Jurassic Park while eating dinner: steak, herb mashed potatoes, and sauteed mushrooms. Mom wants to put me on depression medicine.

Tuesday. Last night I dreamt that I was alone in the woods on a bike path. A bunch of people in wheel chairs started coming at me down the path, and they were dead and bloodied. They knocked me into a pit, and when I landed piercing claws stabbed me in my back and in my legs, and it felt like a needle was shoved into my groin and poison injected. I woke up shaking, with one thought: Was I just abducted?! It was probably because of the zombie movie. When I fell back asleep I had another dream, where I was being hunted by a tyrannosaurus wearing a trench-coat and carrying an umbrella. After school Amanda, Ashley, and I went over to Chris & Lee's to watch 28 Days Later, some zombie movie they're really into. I really liked it. We left their place around 6:00 for bible study at Zach and Kristen's. On our way we swung by the house to get some bibles, and then through McDonald's for a quick bite to eat. The crowd was rowdy, but then everyone got serious. Lee's running the bible study, and I'm helping him out. We put the DVD in the computer, and Lee had me run the discussion group. I really liked that, too. 

Wednesday. We got out of school early today, and I took Ams to the health food store. Chris came over; Lee' was working on his history project--on dinosaurs!--and Pat D. was out with Carly. Ron picked Chris up later in the evening for their small group, and I ran by work to pick up some food and drinks. I said hi to everyone working there--Kelly, who's a guy; and Linda, Wanda, Michelle, and Vicki. Supper at the house was Doritos drenched in melted cheese and laced with pepperoni. Jared taught me how to do it.

Thursday. Chris and Pat D. came over after school, and we had a pretty great time: we hung a monkey from my fan and hit it with belts; we dug through the crawlspace (no stitches this time!) and explored the attic; Chris ripped open my pants; I made videos of Pat D. and Doogie on the computer; and Mom and Dad had small group. Amanda had her friend Aly over, and I burned lots of Pat D.'s Nirvana CDs. He's a fanatic. And, of course, Pat D. played lots of Bf1942.

Friday the 13th. We had the faculty/student basketball game at school today, but I skipped it. Why would anyone care about that? I got my paycheck from I.G.A., said Hi to Ricky, Ryan and Payton. The family loaded up and shipped out down to Kentucky. Amanda had to poop the whole time, so we kept stopping at exits and rest stops. Mike Savage was on the radio talking about the "filthy perverts who are taking over America", namely "the queers". He was talking about it because of all the Gay Marriage debates going on right now, specifically in Massachusetts, Ohio and California. I'm completely against it, and I don't care what you say. We stopped for dinner at Arby's, and we got to Grandma's around 9:11 (a number that will live in infamy!). I folded out Grandma's living room and lied in bed watching Morning with Bonnie with Dad, and I fell asleep watching The Cosby Show.

Valentine's Day. I woke up around [or, rather, exactly at] 8:18. I had toast, rice krispies, and bacon for breakfast. I listened to Nirvana's Unplugged while I ate. Grandma likes the album. I played video games with Dad, and Mom gave me a Valentine's Day card with ten bucks in it. Score! I watched a show on ancient oceans, and then Jesse and Jared picked me up, and we grabbed lunch at Wendy's. We went to Borders to read magazines, and I browsed the deals. The place was packed. We went back to their house, and we all took naps before going back to Grandma's. For Grandma and Grandpa's birthday we had Dominoes pizza. Jesse, Jared, Ams and I watched some weird Japanese shows on MXC, and we watched an interview with Howard Stern on dating the girl from the American Pie movies. Jesse, Jared and I fell asleep on the foldout bed.

Sunday. Grandma fixed an awesome breakfast: bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, with sparkling white grape juice. I joined Aunt Teri and all them for some afternoon shopping, and she spent hundreds of dollars on ridiculous stuff to put in Jesse and Jared's upcoming house. When we got back home from Kentucky, and I ran Media-Shout for Student Revolution. Jeff spoke on the 412 problems and how they need to change. He even quoted some stuff from an email I sent him sometime last week. He encouraged us to confess how we've wronged one another, and people were surprisingly open and honest. It was a pretty good experience.

sick & healthy

Had a teeny revelation in the Jeep on my drive home from school. A sick person does would not know he is sick unless he has been healthy, or seen someone else who is healthy. In the same way, there would be no right or wrong--no morality, no set of universal moral laws--unless there was a greater morality, a morality-maker (God). And someone wouldn't know the full extent of how sinful or terrible he or she is until they see God face-to-face, until they dwell in God's presence.

I'm no theologian, so if I've made any mistakes in my ideas (in your opinion), please let me know.

me: a sanhedrin

Ashamed

Sanhedrin.

Myself.

Connection? Yes. I am much like the Sanhedrin, griping about other peoples' problems and sins, ignoring my own. I criticize the splinter in another's eyes, all-together blinded by the plank in my own. I deeply struggle with hypocrisy, and it tears me apart. Jesus' way is not condemning, but I have made my own way--using Jesus as a footstool--to do exactly that: condemn. Jesus didn't come to earth to send people to hell, but give them a route to heaven. I have confused a key aspect of the Savior I love, and it has reflected--harshly--in my writings. I am ashamed and guilt-ridden that I have done this; just as I yearn to rid of lust, pride, gossip, I wish to rid of this fatal killer, too, that being hypocrisy, a thing that turns many people against Christianity--what will I say to God when someone doesn't accept Jesus because of my snapping words?

I pray that if I have offended you in any of my writings, you will forgive me.

Lord, please forgive me for being such a hypocrite, and save me from this plague, and all others. In Jesus' name, amen.

on small groups

I was talking to God about the apparently mishapen small groups last night, and it seemed he threw me three ways I--amd others--could get more out of such a "dysfunctional" small group, than if it went perfectly as planned:

1) Prompts us to dance in the river with God, with Jesus, not only as a community, but on a personal level; it may inspire quiet time, or deep devotions, or simple yet awesome 'down-time' with God.

2) Helps seekers discover God in a friendly, laid-back, non-demanding atmosphere

3) Forces us to seek deeper, more personal, caring relationships with other believers (better to have one really good friend that a million friendly acquaintances). Relationships where we can find love, acceptance, comfort, mercy, grace, accountability, where we can discuss problems, temptation, where we can go to for help and a caring ear. Such relationships are definitely needed, and the need is hammered into us by God Himself.