Hope Within the Emptiness

Posted by RJ Thesman

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, we focus on gifts, decorations, activities, and family gatherings. Many denominations make Christmas the most ‘wonderful time of the year.’ Yet for Jesus followers, our focus should be that empty tomb. The Lenten season leads up to the hosannas of Palm Sunday, the tragedy of Good Friday, and the silence of a grief-filled Saturday.

But Easter Sunday is much more than a smoked ham, deviled eggs, and children searching for hidden treasure all over the yard.

The reason we celebrate Easter is because it represents the most amazing and highest form of miracle we can imagine. Death loses. Life wins.

I have often wondered how the Resurrection of Jesus actually happened. Did Father God come down and peer at the bedraggled and bruised body of his son? Then breathe life into him like he did for the first Adam?

Did Jesus begin to feel each cell take on energy and warmth, wake from his stupor, and climb out of his grave clothes? Or was it truly like what is often depicted in pageants and films?

The huge stone rolls away and SHAZAM! Out pops the actor who plays Jesus. No longer bloodied and battered. Clothed in a startingly white robe with a cheesy smile on his face.

Did the real Jesus jump up and run around, so glad to be out of that cold sepulcher? Or did he quietly emerge, notice Mary Magdalene’s sobs, and slowly approach to comfort her?

The point, of course, is not how but Who. Of all the religious leaders throughout history, Jesus is the only one who came back to life. The only one who even dared to prophecy that he would be raised after three days (Mark 9:31).

If it wasn’t true, surely by this time, someone would have traced down his DNA and speculated where his body lies. But for those of us who have experienced the soul-saving love of God, we are certain of the facts. The baby of Bethlehem’s Christmas became the Savior on the cross and the resurrected Jesus who is still alive.

But an even greater truth brings me pause. The same power that brought those cells back to life lives in each of his followers (Ephesians 1:19,20). We, too, can look forward to a stunning resurrection, to leaving our fragile bodies behind, and springing forward into eternity. SHAZAM!

On the hard days when life’s chaos seems too heavy to bear, I think about that truth. Sometimes, I even speak it out loud, “The same power that catapulted Jesus out of that tomb lives in me. In the end, life wins.”

So let’s celebrate the eternal hope that the empty tomb offers. Let’s spend Easter as a day of gratitude. A day when we remember that because of Jesus — we live.

He paved the way. He made it possible for us to live in freedom. He offers eternal life to anyone who dares to believe.

While you’re waiting for that final resurrection, find encouragement in Day by Day: Hope for Senior Wisdom.

Hope in the Humanity

Posted by RJ Thesman

We do not focus a great deal of theology on the humanity of Jesus. Yet we know he lived and died as a human being.

The television series, The Chosen, has brought more of the human physical and emotional characteristics of Jesus to the forefront. Maybe this series has become so popular because we needed to experience and understand that Jesus was more than the Son of God.

As we move through the Lenten Season, let’s focus on some of the main themes in the humanity of Jesus.

Family. Jesus lived in Nazareth in the middle of a family unit. Scholars believe his step-father, Joseph, died young which would mean Jesus was raised by a single mom, Mary. He was the firstborn which carries a heavy load of responsibility, especially if he took on the role of man of the house after Joseph died.

Did Jesus teach his brothers, James and Jude, about the craftsman trade? Did he make toys for his sisters and tease them like brothers often do? I like to think he acted like a normal boy, adolescent, and teen.

What were the family dynamics he experienced? A normal family deals with arguments about who does the chores, teasing siblings that turns ugly, laughter and sorrow, visits with cousins and other family, holiday celebrations especially the many Jewish traditions such as Rosh Hashanah and Passover. Jesus would have experienced all these and more.

We know his family did not readily accept him as God’s Son nor follow him as disciples (John 7:5), which brings us to another aspect of his humanity.

Rejection. Most of us have experienced rejection of some sort. The bullies who tormented us at school. Not feeling ‘in’ with the popular crowd. The date for prom that never happened. The rejection slip from a publisher after years of effort crafting our words. Divorce. Downsizing at the job. Children who turn away from our kisses as we drop them at school.

Rejection hurts and can result in emotional scar tissue.

What did Jesus do with those moments of rejection, especially the final betrayal of disciples not brave enough to follow their Master to the cross? And because he was considered an illegitimate child, he experienced the rejection of his community, especially the religious leaders (John 8:41).

I’m sure rejection hurt his heart. Like us, he had to learn how to deal with rejection and not let it change his authentic nature. He had to learn how to hold his own when others betrayed him. How to be who God created him to be. How to move past the deep hurt and not let it sway him from his mission.

Was there another human who could speak into his hurt and help him deal with it? Or did he have to struggle alone?

Loneliness. Multiple scriptures underscore the isolation of Jesus. Alone in the wilderness with Satan’s constant attacks. The times Jesus left the crowd to be alone and pray. The loneliness of the garden when his buddies could not stay awake and pray with him.

The fact that he was a maverick with a different agenda fostered the loneliness. No one quite understood what he was all about and what he was trying to do. He was alone in his commitment to follow God’s will. Being alone, whether physically or philosophically, fosters loneliness.

His plaintive cry shows evidence of that loneliness during the last supper. “Remember me,” he pleaded with his friends.

Jesus becomes more of a personal Savior when we realize he suffered like we do. He lived as a human, so he surely struggled with childhood illnesses. Growing through the hormonal ups and downs of puberty. Struggling to breathe as the sepsis of crucifixion took its toll.

God did not rescue Jesus from the ravages of being human. In fact, Jesus was perfected because he suffered as a human, experienced the hurts, and completed his mission.

Before we can understand the totality of his sacrifice, we need to realize how fully human Jesus was.

Then it brings our relationship with him into greater focus. He understands us. He gets us. As fully human, he chose to live with us and become brother, cousin, friend, son, and craftsman. To place himself under the tutelage of Joseph and Mary. To be trained as a creative artist in wood, stone, and clay. To endure the same things we are asked to endure simply by being human.

This human Jesus willingly chose to spend 33 years on earth so that we could experience the expanse of God’s love.

For a simple way to examine faith topics, check out Uploading Faith: What It Means to Believe.

Hope in the Ashes

Posted by RJ Thesman

Ash Wednesday this year, 2023, was the first time I wore the ashes cross on my forehead. It was deeply meaningful.

I did not grow up in a religious tradition that included the ashes-on-the-forehead practice. In the buckle of the Bible belt, it was considered too ‘Catholic.’ But many of those traditionally legalistic beliefs have changed, recognized for what they were — a type of judgment and spiritual abuse.

Now that I attend a more liturgical and inclusive community of Jesus followers, I am open to accepting new ways of growing my faith. So I attended the Ash Wednesday service with my son and found it to be spiritually uplifting while at the same time a poignant reminder of what the day means.

Our service was filled with beautiful music and a sense of emotional loss. We were, after all, entering the season when that incredible God/Man died a brutal death so that we could be accepted into God’s loving arms.

Then toward the end of the evening, each of us walked forward to receive the ashes. The gentle touch of my pastor’s thumb pressing into my forehead. The warmth of her flesh against mine. Her soft voice, “From dust you came. To dust you will return.” My imagination of what the cross must look like on my skin. The tears that caught in my throat.

Then later, looking at the reflection of the cross of ashes in my bathroom mirror. Accepting the truth about the final state of my body. Having just completed all the paperwork for where and how my own ashes will be buried, this cross was a visual of my final act.

A reminder that death precedes eternal life. But ashes can also evoke a positive response. Used as mulch to produce new life. Beauty from dust. The ending and the beginning. Alpha and Omega.

Still, the writer in me wanted to know more. What was the origin of this practice? What is this visual and sensory act intended to mean for Jesus followers?

With a bit of research, I learned the following:

The practice of a cross of ashes on the forehead began in the 8^th century with the Gregorians, a community of Anglican friars.
It did not become a widespread part of American religious tradition until the 1970s.
The ashes symbolize penitence, being sorry for how we have ignored God and mistreated others — the basics of sin.
They are also a reminder of the brevity of our lives, of our mortality. We are not self-sufficient enough to forgive our own misdeeds. Jesus alone owns the power to transform us.
The ashes are made from the previous year’s Palm Sunday branches. Oil is often added to make the ashes stay on the forehead longer.
For many people, the ashes are an outward sign of their faith walk. An organic method of exhibiting our beliefs. A bit more meaningful than random cross jewelry or cross tattoos.
People often begin religious conversations when they see someone with the ash cross on foreheads.
The practice has become a symbol of the beginning of Lent. A time to remember what Jesus did for us. How much he gave up for us. What the cross truly symbolizes.

We should never look at a cross without remembering how it represents a brutality of torture unacceptable in our world of civil rights. The ashes bring us into the Lenten season as a more gentle reminder of what Christ’s sacrifice means.

And for me, that cross of ashes on my forehead represented a type of spiritual growth. Of accepting one of the more traditional practices within a modern world. Of opening my soul even more to consider the liturgies of other denominations.

Of expanding my intention to make this year’s Lenten season a time to remember Jesus.

Consider the women who loved Jesus and followed him to the cross. The Women of Passion Week

Hope Finds a Treasure

Posted by RJ Thesman

At various events during one week’s time, three people told me, “You are a treasure.”

I knew this was a compliment, and I truly appreciated the sentiment. At the same time, I was a bit nonplussed to be described as such.

When I think of treasure, my first impression is an antiquity. The movie National Treasure comes to mind as Nicholas Gage tries to find the lost treasure his Masonic ancestors hid. Gage, of course, succeeds and manages to fall in love at the same time, which spawns the second movie in the series.

What does a treasure represent in my practical life? How might I practice more gratitude for those treasures I hold dear?

My treasures do not represent stuff, because I know eventually most of my stuff will end up at Goodwill. In fact, I continue to declutter each week and give away things that no longer give me joy.

The true treasures of my life involve people and memories — those happenings and experiences with flesh and blood folks that cannot be replaced.

My relationship with my son is a treasure. Something especially sweet happens when our children mature. We move into an easy friendship instead of strictly a parent and child rapport. I no longer need to train him. Instead, we have great discussions about life, politics, sports and how to set up the wifi. We express our opinions about world systems and how we fit into them, our goals and how we can move toward our dreams.

I so desperately want my son’s dreams to become reality. Now that would be a treasure!

Another treasure involves my growing up on the farm. Although my world now exists in the city, nothing can take from me the memory of climbing my tree, perching in its generous limbs and scribbling my first stories.

Watching the massive Oklahoma sunsets change colors, celebrating the waving wheat “that smells so sweet” and digging my hands into fresh garden earth. Planting seeds that would later produce our supper. These treasures make me long for those hard-working blessed days without the stress of internet surfing and spammed emails.

The people I have known is one of my collective treasures. Students who traveled from various countries and learned English in my classes. Women who enriched my life through their nurturing hearts. Clients who shared their words with me and trusted me to edit their work. Ministers of both genders who spoke into my life. The myriads of writers who blessed me with their thought-provoking words.

People are a treasure, walking and talking receptacles of divine cells God has pronounced, “Very good.” My life has been enriched by meeting these folks, spending time with them, developing relationships, disagreeing with them and praying together.

So I gladly accept the moniker of “treasure,” as I hope to somehow speak into the lives of others. May the hope of making a difference keep me breathing and living in joy, making an impact every day in the life of another treasure.

Check out my newest book, perfect for your Lenten season. The Women of Passion Week

Hope Realigns

Posted by RJ Thesman

A pastor began his introduction into the Communion Service with a call for confession. “This is the time to realign our hearts,” he said, “to make sure we are ready to receive the bread and cup together.”

Realigning our hearts to God – I had never considered that viewpoint but I liked it. As I bowed my head and confessed sins and errors of judgment, prideful thoughts of the week and the taking of offenses that did not belong to me – I was grateful for moments of contemplative confession.

Sometimes phrases and words stay with me for a long time. I ponder them, journal about them, pray fervently for clarity.

As I thought about the topic of realignment and pondered this blog post, I saw the need for realignment in many areas of life.

My last post centered on the topic of release as I linger in God’s waiting room.

How can I realign my soul as I wait and release?

As I work on necessary patience, I realign my heart to accept whatever God’s answers might be. Bringing my heart back to the correct focus is a constant soul work and a spiritual discipline I want to conquer.

When we have struggles in relationships, we might consider the idea of realignment. How can we be mutually submissive so that compromise works and love scores a win?

How can we set healthy boundaries in our lives and realign our hearts with what is truly important? We might try less productivity for the sake of dollars; more reaching out to the needy.

As a writer, my creative mind constantly sparks with new ideas – another book I yearn to write, articles and blog posts to reach the masses through cyberspace, another website focused on my coaching outreach.

But in this season of active ministry, my time to construct paragraphs and plots, characters and resolutions is limited. The achievement of polished manuscripts lies dormant.

I must realign my goals with reality and wait for the time when ideas bring a harvest. God is glorified even in the waiting.

Especially during this Lenten season, I seek to realign my soul with the important rather than the urgent, to find my joy in the simple pleasure of God’s presence and the divine whisper that sings lullabies at night.

Then when resurrection comes – whether it is Easter Sunday, resolutions within relationships or the birth of a new book – I will know hope has preceded me.

Realignment will have succeeded and once again – I will journey on the right path.

RJThesman.net

Author | Coach | Speaker | Editor

lenten season

Hope Within the Emptiness

Hope in the Humanity

Hope in the Ashes

Hope Finds a Treasure

Hope Realigns