faith

Life is Worth Living in Jesus

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on April 26, 2014.

A friend shared with me her personal story of anguish … and of hope.  For the benefit of others who may struggle in depression, she graciously has permitted the posting of her story here.

From Darkness to Light

Author’s name withheld by request

It started like every other morning.  The alarm went off earlier than I really wanted, but I pulled myself out of my bed anyway.  I went to the bathroom and started getting ready, the whole time waiting for my phone to buzz to let me know that he was thinking about me; but it never came.  I left the house just after 9:00 to make the commute to a school 45 minutes away.  Sitting through class, I never stopped thinking about the text that never came.  “Why do I still get so surprised when he does this?” I remembered thinking to myself.  The reality was that this was becoming normal, going days without speaking.  And still, sadness overwhelmed me.  When class finally finished, I decided I wouldn’t go to my other classes.  After all, what was the point?  I got back in my car and drove home, allowing that deep depression to overwhelm again.

By the time I got back home, I could barely hold myself together.  Collapsing on my bed, I wept for too long.  Looking back, I know that something so trivial shouldn’t have gotten to me, but after months of the same ritual the pain never really went away.  I started to think, again, about all the bottles stored in the medicine cabinet.  I remember thinking, “If you’re going to do it, stop thinking about it and just do it!”  Gripped with sadness, I went and got a bottle of pain killers (to stop the ‘pain’) and a bottle of sleeping pills (to put me to ‘sleep’). I took every last pill in those almost brand new bottles.  I sent a text to my mother, who was at work, telling her I was sorry, but that I just couldn’t stand the pain anymore.  Then, I curled up in bed to let myself die.

I know you’re probably thinking: Isn’t that a little dramatic when she was only being ignored by some guy? And yes, I would agree with you.  The problem is, though, that these thoughts had been racing through my mind for about 7 years.  I had been able to ignore them, but the six months before this had been an especially trying time.  It may have not gotten so bad if I had just talked to someone about it, but I was trying so hard to be the perfect child and I didn’t want anyone to know my dark thoughts.  What’s funny, though, is my parents never put any pressure on me to be ‘perfect.’  They have always been very clear that as long as I try my best, they will be proud of me.  I was the one putting the pressure on myself.

Until now, I haven’t mentioned prayer, or church, or anything about God or my faith.  And no, this isn’t the story of my coming to faith after sinking to such a low place.  You see, I was raised in a Christian family.  I went to church my whole life, and am still a member of the church today.  I went to a Christian elementary school and high school.  I even enrolled at a Christian college upon my high school graduation.  God was not foreign to me, but unfortunately he was not as important to me as he should have been.  I was allowing my depression to lead me through life, rather than praying for strength and guidance.

Thankfully, after lying in my bed for only 10 minutes, I realized the foolishness of what I had done and got help.  The embarrassment of having so many people know those dark thoughts combined with seeing my mom cry for only the second time in my life kept me from trying anything again, even though the sadness continued.  I realized that doing nothing and hoping it would get better (my previous way of thinking) was not going to work.  I started making a few simple changes saw tremendous results.  I accepted that I had a problem and stopped trying to hide it from everyone; I sought counseling and was prescribed anti-depressants; I cut negative people out of my life; and I finally started going to God for help.  I went to church and actually paid attention to what was being said.  I prayed that he would take the deep sorrow away and help me to rely more on him.  And you know what?  He did.  He reminded me that he gave his own Son, Jesus, to die for me, to make my life worth living, to give me life with him that will never end.   Imagine that; my loving Father answering my prayers like he promised so many times in his Word.  Crazy concept, I know.   So next time you have a problem, no matter how big or small, try talking to God about it.  He has told us to come to him with everything (Philippians 4:6).  And he gives us life in Jesus as the answer to our anxieties.

Posted by Electric Gospel

In the Hour of Denial

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on April 18, 2014.

The following message was written as one part of a seven-part series of messages delivered by various clergy members during Good Friday worship hours. The traditional Three Hour Service followed “The Hours of Jesus’ Passion.”   My section looked at “The Hour of Denial” — when Peter repeatedly insisted he did not know Jesus.
– David Sellnow

Jesus Turns and Looks at Us

by David Sellnow


Disciples of Jesus, who live in the courtyard of this world:

Joe worked on a road construction crew with a pretty rough group of guys.  Joe was a religious man, but didn’t want to be hassled for his faith.  So he just did his job, earned his pay, kept to himself, didn’t talk much.

Gina went to college at a major university.  There wasn’t much evidence of faith in the people living up and down the hall in Gina’s dorm.  Gina was a Christian, but didn’t really advertise that.  She wanted to fit in and didn’t want to be criticized or challenged.

Sam was single and looking.  He went to a speed dating event, hoping to meet interesting women.  He decided in advance he wasn’t going to say anything about his religion.  He only had five minutes to meet each person.  He didn’t want to put up any obstacles that might keep someone from wanting to get to know him.  And he didn’t want anyone to think his faith was the main thing that defined him.

As Christ’s followers, we act like that sometimes.  We want a connection to Christ, but we don’t want to be hassled about it.  We want Christ to be with us, but we’re not always eager to let others know we’re with him.  We may be bold and loud when we’re in here (in church), among ourselves, where we can sing our hymns and say our prayers without hesitation.  But when we’re out there, rubbing shoulders with persons who’ve given a cold shoulder to Jesus, we grow timid.  We get quiet.    We claim—like Simon Peter claimed—to be ardent followers of Jesus, but when the pressure is on we are more prone to deny him than to identify ourselves with him.

Let’s look at Peter’s denial—and in it see our own failure to stand strong in faith, but also see our Savior loving us and calling us back to him.   Let’s look at Luke’s account of the events, since Luke notes an important detail about what happened just as Peter’s denial reached its loudest point.

Seizing Jesus, they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance.  And when some there had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them.  A servant girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, “This man was with him.”

But he denied it. “Woman, I don’t know him,” he said.

A little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.”

“Man, I am not!” Peter replied.

About an hour later another asserted, “Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.”

Peter replied, “Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed.  The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.”   And he went outside and wept bitterly.

(Luke 22:54-62)

We can understand Peter’s fear, why denial spilled from his lips instead of confession – because we get scared like that.  But did he need to be afraid?  What would they have done with him if he’d said, “Yes, I was with him; yes, I know him; yes, I am one of his disciples”?  Probably they’d just have ridiculed him and mocked Jesus.  If they were going to arrest Peter and do him bodily harm, they’d have grabbed him in Gethsemane.  There he was full of bravado and slashed an ear off one of the high priest’s men.  But Jesus had put an end to the swordplay.  And the authorities weren’t interested in Peter.  They were after Jesus.  Peter’s safety wasn’t really in jeopardy as he stood in the priest’s courtyard.

But Peter was afraid the way we get afraid, even when our personal safety isn’t at risk.  If we are open and transparent about our relationship with Jesus in the midst of people who are not Jesus’ disciples, what’s the worst we usually have to fear?  Ridicule.  Scoffing.  Verbal abuse.   And yet, like Peter, we become weak.   We are cowardly instead of confident.   While we may make brave proclamations about Jesus in the safety of our own gatherings, when we’re face to face with Jesus’ enemies in the world we are likely to hide our relationship with him.

But then comes that look.   Luke tells us that just as Peter was denying Jesus for the third time, just when a rooster crowed (just as Jesus had predicted), Jesus turned and looked straight at Peter.  I suppose you might have difficulty imagining how that could happen.  Wasn’t Jesus inside the high priest’s residence and Peter was standing out in the courtyard, by the fire?   I don’t want to spend too much time here on details, but renowned archaeological architect Leen Ritmeyer’s reconstruction of the Palatial Mansion of the high priest in Jerusalem shows how the layout of the building and the courtyard was such that there was a clear line of sight from the edge of the courtyard through a doorway into the main reception room where Jesus stood before the high priest.  We were told (by Matthew) that after a servant girl had pegged Peter as a follower of Jesus, Peter had moved over toward the gateway (Matthew 26:71).  It seems that with each confrontation Peter edged further toward the edge of the courtyard, closer to the exit.  And from that spot there was a view through another archway right into the center of the reception room.  And so as Peter was confronted a third time … and with even more forceful words than before he swore he did not know Jesus … and the rooster crowed … Jesus was able to look out, through the doorway, and look directly at Peter.  “Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times’” (Luke 22:61).

That look of Jesus – what did that look look like?   Luke only tells us that Jesus looked at Peter, he doesn’t specify how he looked at him.  But from what has been revealed to us about Jesus, we can know something about that look.

It could not have been a look of shock or outrage.  Jesus knew exactly what Peter was going to do that night.  He had told Peter in advance about how he would deny his Lord three times.  Everything was playing out just as Jesus had said it would go.  So Jesus was not taken aback by what Peter was doing.  His look at Peter was a reminder.  His eyes said what he had already told Peter in words earlier that night:  “You will deny me.”  Jesus didn’t have to say anything further.  Peter knew Jesus had spoken the truth.  Peter was reminded that Jesus is the Truth.

It could not have been a look of spite or hatred.  Jesus was not doing what he was doing because he hated Peter or anyone involved in what was happening.  Jesus came into this world because God so loved the world.  Jesus “loved his own who were in the world; he loved them to the end” (John 13:1). And he demonstrated his love for us in that “while we were sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). While Peter was sinning against him, denying him with curses, Jesus still loved Peter and was reaching out to him.  When Jesus looked at Peter, it could not have been a look of indignation.

It could not have been a look of rejection or condemnation.  “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:17).  And specifically toward Peter, Jesus had shown his constant love and care.  Earlier that night, before telling Peter the prophecy about how he would fall into denial, Jesus had said to him:  “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat.   But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32).  Jesus was not intent on condemning Peter; his overriding concern was to preserve Peter, to save him.  Even if we are faithless in our actions, Jesus “remains faithful, for he cannot disown himself” (2 Timothy 2:13).   So says the promise of Scripture.  And Jesus made good on that promise to Peter.  Satan sifted him like wheat, that’s for sure.  But Jesus held on to Peter.  With just one look, through the doorway, out into the dim light of the outer court, Jesus grabbed hold of Peter’s eyes and his heart.  And Peter ran out and wept bitterly.  He was ashamed.  He was acutely aware of his failure.  But he had hope.  He had a Savior who had told him he was going to fail but that he would be brought back.  He had a Savior who led him to hear the rooster’s crow as a warning.  He had a Savior who in the darkest moment looked at his friend with a look that showed that he knew Peter, that he loved Peter, that he was seeking Peter’s soul.

We also have our failures, our cowardice, our weakness of faith.  But as with Peter, our Lord does not look at us with outrage or hatred or condemnation.  The look in Jesus’ eyes is the look of the eternal God who stooped down from heaven to stand trial in our place, the look of someone who was willing to suffer unimaginable pain and horror for our sake, the look of a Savior who was willing to give himself up completely in order to win us back to God.  And we have been turned back to Jesus, again and again.  So with renewed strength, forgiven of our denials—like Peter—we can strengthen one another, strengthen our brothers and sisters.

Posted by Electric Gospel