“Let us rejoice and exult and give Him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and His Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.”
Little girls all over the world dream about their wedding day, but Jesus has been dreaming about His wedding day before the first little girl ever to walk the earth drew breath.
Obviously, there’s a throne. It was crafted at great length and with infinite care by the best of the warrior poets, gilded and gleaming and fairly bursting with anticipation as it waits to be occupied.
Drapes—two or three stories tall, stitched of crimson velvet and moonlight—tower up the walls like pillars of glory. Stately marble that radiates from within forms the arches that stretch so impossibly high only to meet, kiss, and plunge down again on the other side.
Dearly beloved, it is with deep sadness that we gather together in the shadow of Golgotha today. The brightest Light this world has ever known has been extinguished, and our hope has died with Him.
You might be one of the masses who called Jesus Rabbi, following His brief but explosive three-year ministry and teachings whenever He came to town. You may be among the crowds who knew Him as Healer, having experienced His incredible power personally. To you, He may have been your carpenter or classmate or friend. You could be a family member who had the great honor of calling Him Son, Brother, Cousin, or Uncle.
No matter what Jesus of Nazareth was to you, you must have felt the intense mark He left on every heart He encountered.
Red letter day: a day that is pleasantly noteworthy or memorable
English nerd that I am, I’m a sucker for double meanings, and I’ve been holding this series idea in for much too long. Over the next few posts, we’ll focus on the big days (red-letter ones) in the life of Jesus (who apparently spoke in scarlet, according to some Bible printing processes). Get it? Red letter days.
One of the most pleasant things about seasonal transitions is the chance to infuse our homes with fresh beauty. We join the Spirit in His strong work of bringing order to chaos and energizing lifeless places, reveling in the challenge of it all. As the gilded maples flirt with cooler breezes outside, let’s wrap our interiors in the splendor of fall.
Welcome to the adventure! We’ll be globetrotting through the gospel of John together, and I’m your guide. (Please keep all appendages in the vehicle at all times. And don’t trust the zebras; they have sneaky feet.) What better place to start out than the majestic Taj Mahal?
Sifting back through some old blog posts from when we first moved to New England, I ran across this gem and thought I’d share it with you lovely people.
No one laughs at God in a hospital; No one laughs at God in a war. (Regina Spektor)
Here’s something you might not know about me: I’m a recovering fraidy cat. Fear weighs down so many aspects of my life that it’s amazing I can walk upright. My list of dread includes (but is certainly not limited to) being murdered in my house, kidnapped, mauled by some strange animal, or driving off a bridge into the water below. Ever since childhood, though, my worst enemy has remained constant: the dark. (More specifically, what could be lurking in the dark.)
(This post was originally published on the Baptist Convention of New England’s blog on August 21, 2019. You can find it here.)
Martin Luther was a 16th century German cowboy with a one-trick pony called “Gospel.” Utterly obsessed with the subject, this firebrand monk once wrote that “the truth of the gospel is the principal article of all Christian doctrine . . . Most necessary is it that we know this article well, teach it to others, and beat it into their heads continually.” If you went to dinner with this guy, you could depend on coming away with a greater sense of why Jesus matters.
September has come, sweeping the first brave leaves from the tips of trees and heaving the scent of an approaching harvest into the gold-tinged air. Let’s gather gifts like a kid picking new pencils for the school year. As redemption seeps through the foam on every beverage in sight, infusing warmth into the deepest places of our hearts, we’re invited to join the blessing of offering ourselves to one another in grace and truth. I suspect Jesus has a special affection for surprising His people during this season. Shall we seek Him together?