In the dream, I see myself in different scenarios. In one, I am preaching. In another, I am in a prayer meeting. In one more, I am having a conversation with my children. In each of them, I repeatedly hear the phrase, “Resting place. Resting place. Resting place.” I know it’s the voice of the Lord communicating His desire in each situation to find a resting place where He can dwell.

The interesting thing about this dream is the third scenario I saw: family conversations. Of course, I’m aware of the Lord’s presence when I preach and when I pray. But, how aware am I of His presence in the casual moments of everyday life? Do I seek to make Him as comfortable at my dinner table as I do in a church service? In the dream, He not only wanted to rest upon the sermons and prayers, but also upon the conversations I had with my kids.

This dream reminds me of a scripture in Malachi 3:16–18. In verse 16, it refers to those “who feared the Lord.” In the next two verses, these people move God’s heart to such a degree that He promises He will “make them My jewels” and that through them “you shall again discern between the righteous and the wicked, between one who serves God and one who does not serve Him.” What quality does the group possess that invokes these promises? How does their fear of the Lord manifest itself?

It reveals itself through their daily conversations: “Then those who feared the LORD spoke to one another, and the LORD listened and heard them; so a book of remembrance was written before Him for those who fear the LORD and who meditate on His name” (emphasis added). After God listened to their conversations with one another, He decided to write their names in a book of remembrance. It wasn’t their sermons or their prayers that invoked His promises. It was the casual moments in life when they probably were not aware that God was listening.

This scripture and this dream call us to a fresh place of daily awareness concerning God’s presence. Yes, you should expect to meet with Him at church and when you pray. However, don’t limit your interactions with God to only those spiritual activities. God is looking for a resting place in your life. May He be as comfortable in your conversations as He is anywhere else. He is looking for a resting place, and He wants to find it in you.

I was in a meeting with a handful of vibrant young adults. They had just graduated from either high school or college. They not only had a sense of possibility as their lives lay before them, but they also had a sense of responsibility. One of them asked me, “How do we invest back into Alabama?” I knew they loved the state that had raised them, and they want to use their time well, investing into their communities. It’s likely they would become leaders within local governments or members of important social committees.

I liked this question so much that I got the whole group’s attention and repeated it, preparing them to hear my response. I then answered, “Strengthen the churches.” I went on to summarize a key idea from Ben Shapiro, describing how the “social fabric” is not held together by government institutions, but by the churches. I also explained that if they asked current community leaders the same question, those leaders would give the same response as me.

As the dream is ending, I’m about to give them practical action steps, calling them to volunteer in their churches by signing up for a team. I know that if they do this, it’s a strategy that will not only strengthen Alabama, but any state or community to which God calls them. As I am about to tell them this, the dream ends.

I wanted to share this dream with you because it captures a simple truth that many have forgotten: Strong churches create strong communities. When marriages and families are built upon the word of God, then people inevitably become healthy, responsible, proactive citizens. When people are a part of a faith-centric community, every area of their lives grows strong, thus strengthening society as a whole.

Many characterize America as a post-Christian society. In doing so, they view the church as a private institution, only relevant to people with private religious beliefs. They do not see the church as playing any serious role in the public world, beyond an occasional charitable deed for the poor. However, when you rip church out of American life, you rip the heart out of American life. Everything else starts to decay. A government program will not fix what God intended the church to solve.

If you re-read the Book of Acts, you may be surprised at how often this idea shows up. Most of my life, I’ve envisioned Paul, the apostle, exclusively as a pioneering missionary. As a child, I would study the maps in the back of my Bible that charted his travels. While Paul certainly pioneered missions, that’s not all he did. Strengthening churches was one of his most frequent activities. Once a church was planted, he would then spend his time and energy “strengthening the souls of the disciples” (see Acts 14:22; 15:41; 18:23). Furthermore, when Paul was not on a missionary expedition, he was an active part of his home church in Antioch, serving on a team alongside other leaders (see Acts 15:35; 13:1). What is the application for us?

If we want communities in America to grow stronger, it’s not enough to inspire personal achievement within our young people. It’s not enough to call them to pioneer something in the career field of their choice. Nor is it enough to call them to civic responsibility alone. We must call them to spiritual responsibility. Investing time, energy, and resources into Christian community produces long-term results. Without it, government agencies and social institutions may look like a functioning body, but they have no heart. Eventually, they will collapse.

Since I initially heard this in reference to an offering, let’s start there. Too often, we judge something’s value based upon its quantity. A large offering we cherish, but a small offering we don’t. However, Jesus teaches His disciples a different way. In Mark 12:41–44, He overlooks the large donations from the wealthy, and instead, He focuses upon the small donation from the poor widow. Her sacrifice, though insignificant in the eyes of man, moves His heart. What others probably despised, He esteemed.

Or consider the way in which Jesus interacts with children. In Mark 10:13–16, His disciples see children as nothing more than an inconvenience, not worthy of Jesus’ time or attention. They even “rebuked those who brought them.” Does Jesus agree with their assessment? Absolutely not. Instead, Jesus is “greatly displeased” with His disciples and invites the children to come unto Him. Then, He invests His time with them in a personal way: “And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.” While the disciples devalued these little ones, they were “precious in His sight.”

Another example is found in Mark 14:3–9. In that passage, you find the woman with the “alabaster flask of very costly oil of spikenard.” What does she do with this expensive possession? She pours every last drop upon Jesus. How do the disciples respond? Scripture says they were “indignant among themselves” and “criticized her sharply.” They despise her sacrifice. What does Jesus think about it, though? Jesus thinks so highly of her action that He promises it will always be remembered: “Assuredly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is preached in the whole world, what this woman has done will also be told as a memorial to her.” Apparently, her “wasted” oil was precious to Him.

Over and over again, scripture testifies that man has a tendency to despise what God considers precious. Man has a tendency to value only what can be quantified or leveraged for gain. For God, it goes much deeper than the size or scale of something. He looks upon the qualities man does not see. He values what man may scorn.

This statement from God (“Do not despise what is precious to Me”) carries two things within it. First, a rebuke. It rebukes our worldly way of assessing worth, and it calls us to repent. Secondly, it carries an affirmation. It affirms how precious you are to God. Regardless of whether or not man despises you, God’s value system is the one that matters. And you move His heart.

In one particular meeting, Joe led us through an exercise to identify our personal core values. He explained that a core value is not an aspiration. It is a reality. It’s not something you hope to achieve. It is a description of something that is already in place. For example, my wife, Delana, values honest vulnerability in relationships. That’s not something she wants to arrive at some day. She already values that, and it guides the way she interacts with the world. This core value exercise deeply impacted me, but it didn’t stop with me. Eventually, I took this exercise and collaborated with Joe to identify the core values of the Ramp on a organizational level.

One of the core values of the Ramp is “growing in truth.” Truth is so immense that it can’t be exhausted by the human mind during one lifetime. Truth is eternal, and you will never reach the end of it. No individual can fully probe the depths of truth. It is unfathomable.

This doesn’t mean, though, you can never have certainties. There are certainties and absolutes, but those do not erase the mysteries. God reveals truth to stabilize us, but, at the same time, He conceals truth to beckon us. “Growing in truth” does not mean that truth is subject to change, constantly altering with the trends of time. “Growing in truth” means that humans are subject to change, constantly maturing in perspective. God gives fresh insight not to displace prior understanding, but to enlarge it.

Hunger for revelation is one of the results of this core value at the Ramp. This hunger expresses itself in different ways. One of them is body language. We sit on the edge of our seats, leaning in while the message is being preached. There is an overarching sense that God wants to speak something fresh to us, and when He does, it will change us.

This sense of hunger helps protect your heart from intellectual arrogance. Without it, you’re tempted to feel you’ve arrived at a place of complete understanding. However, if truth is something in which you grow, then you must always remain pliable as the Lord continues to teach.

Jesus Himself told the disciples they didn’t know it all, but they would continue to grow in truth in the future. In John 16:12, Jesus tells them, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth . . . .” If anyone was tempted to feel as though they had intellectually arrived, it must have been the disciples. They spent years walking with Wisdom Himself. However, Jesus taught them to remain humble, knowing God would instruct them further as they were able to handle it.

This core value for the Ramp is also a personal value for me. I want to continue growing in truth as the Holy Spirit leads me. The purpose of my blog is to simply share that journey with you. According to 1 Corinthians 13, each of us know in part. I’d like to share some of my part here so we can continue to grow together.

First, the overall context of the dream is the global assignment we have as the church. Though God plants each of us in specific locations (I minister primarily in the United States as a pastor in Alabama), God wants to activate His people to be more globally minded, simultaneously juggling nations and continents. Also, it’s important we do not associate missions exclusively with third world nations where there are obvious financial needs. We must be led by His Spirit to engage the spiritual needs found even in the most prosperous nations on earth.

Secondly, God is training us for this global assignment through personal calamity. The situation God showed me is something I have asked Him to resolve over and over again. Most of the time, He is very quiet and does not give me answers. In this dream, though, He gave me specific clarity. He affirmed that He knows about it and that He is specifically using it to train me to handle larger chaotic situations. The implication was not only global missions, but also future calamity on a global scale, perhaps connected to end-time events. If I can learn to manage raging emotions and shifting circumstances now, then I will be prepared to lead in the midst of them later.

Lastly, I knew that Calamity Jane is a name (perhaps a nickname) that God wants to give the church. What does that mean? Calamity Jane lived during the late 1800’s as a frontierswoman. She did not have a strong moral reputation (sometimes she earned a living through prostitution), but she did prove useful in chaotic situations. While it’s hard to separate fact from fiction, she evidently gained the nickname by saving a military captain after being shot in battle. In other words, Calamity Jane did not succumb to storms. Instead, she knew how to ride them and intervene on behalf of others.

As we each learn how to handle calamity on a personal level, it empowers us corporately to navigate global storms and intervene of behalf of others. Like Calamity Jane, God wants us to have an unconquerable spirit (though, He also wants us to have a sound moral reputation, too). Rather than cowering at difficulty, we rise to the occasion and step into a fresh expression of our global assignment.

Do not forget that any circumstantial challenge in front of you is not random. God works all things together for good, and He is preparing you in more ways than you can imagine.

Do not answer a fool according to his folly,

Lest you also be like him.

Answer a fool according to his folly,

Lest he be wise in his own eyes. (Proverbs 26:4, 5)

First, Proverbs teaches you not to answer a fool. Then, it teaches you to answer a fool. Which one is it?? How can both of these verses be truth?

Rather than untangling that knot, I simply wanted to use these verses to demonstrate my point. At times, truth speaks in opposite directions. With that principle in mind, I want to share with you a proverb of my own:

Your spiritual health can not depend on your environment.

Your spiritual health depends on your environment.

Though opposing each other, both of these statements are true.

First, your spiritual health can not depend on your environment. If your geographical location determines the level of your fervency and commitment to God, then your fervency and commitment to God may be an illusion. If lack of access to a church building or social gathering causes detriment to your devotional life, then your devotional life doesn’t have the appropriate level of fortitude. Unhealthy dependence upon the right environment leaves you spiritually immature and limits the degree to which God can use you. If you need the right place, the right people, and the right situation in order to seek God, then God can’t send you to a spiritually bleak environment as an emissary of the kingdom. He knows it will endanger you too much. He knows it will change you rather than you being a catalyst of change.

At the same time, you can not escape the reality that your spiritual health depends on your environment. The seed of God’s word within your heart needs the atmosphere of His presence in order to produce maximum fruitfulness. What do you do, then, if your circumstances do not offer access to a presence-rich environment? You learn to create one around you. You learn to surround yourself with things that release life into the soil of your heart. With technology at your fingertips, that is easier than ever to accomplish; however, I’m not just talking about using someone else’s ministry as a crutch. You must learn to find His presence personally through prayer, worship, and scripture. As you create that personal environment of presence, you’ll find your walk with God maturing and doors of destiny opening.

Do not depend exclusively on your geographical, circumstantial environment to be spiritually healthy. Instead, cultivate a personal atmosphere of presence where your heart can thrive in God.

On the Monday after Easter, I was asking myself this question and sensed the Holy Spirit answering me with this phrase: “infallible proofs.” That phrase didn’t pop out of thin air, though. It comes from Luke’s introduction to the book of Acts.

Luke begins this crucial book in the New Testament by describing the forty day period between the resurrection of Jesus and the ascension of Jesus. He writes that Jesus “presented Himself alive after His suffering by many infallible proofs, being seen by them during forty days and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of God” (Acts 1:3 emphasis added). The living Jesus would just show up, surprising the disciples and confirming the reality of His resurrection during that forty day interval. Can you imagine how exciting that must of been for the disciples!?

On that Monday-after-Easter, I continued to meditate on their experience and Luke’s introduction. It seemed cleared to me what the Holy Spirit was saying: After Easter, God wants to manifest the living Jesus with infallible proofs.

This idea challenges my internal view of Easter. As I described earlier, Easter seems like a climax. You build everything to the point of declaring, “Jesus is alive,” then you move on to something else. However, in Acts, Easter is not a climax. It is a catapult. The tension of the Gospels does not build to the resurrection and then lose its steam. The tension builds to resurrection and then catapults the church forward with greater force than ever.

This is evident in the way Luke describes his Gospel: “The former account I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and teach . . .” (Acts 1:1 emphasis added). Luke describes his Gospel as a beginning–not an ending. The Gospel according to Luke was the introduction to the ministry of Jesus continued through the church in Acts and throughout history.

Therefore, what do we do after Easter? We anticipate the living Jesus showing up in surprising ways. We anticipate life-transforming moments in His presence and miracles in our midst. “Jesus is alive” is not just a sermon for Easter Sunday. It’s a reality, a lifestyle into which Easter catapults you.

It’s interesting to me that the original Easter Sunday had a lot of running. After Mary sees the empty tomb, she runs. When Peter and John hear her report, they run. As they are on their way to the tomb, John runs a little faster. Why so much running? Could it be that after the shockwave of Friday and the heaviness of Saturday, Sunday lightened their hearts enough to run? Could it be they felt like hounds with the scent of hope again and they couldn’t contain themselves any longer?

Friday had been devastating. Saturday had seemed endless. Sunday brought something unexpected.

As I think about those early moments on Sunday, it brings Job 14:7–9 to my mind:

“For there is hope for a tree,

If it is cut down, that it will sprout again,

And that its tender shoots will not cease.

Though its roots may grow old in the earth,

And its stop may die in the ground,

Yet at the scent of water it will bud

And bring forth branches like a plant.”

A stump that seems hopeless will reawakened just at the scent of water. It doesn’t take a full downpour. Just a scent. Even before the disciples saw the living Jesus on Easter, they began to run. Why? The scent of life, of hope, of promise called forth their joy.

One of my favorite scriptures is Psalm 119: 32: “I will run the course of your commandments, for You shall enlarge my heart.” When Mary first traveled to the garden tomb, she was in dire straits, confined within her own sorrow. However, when she saw the empty tomb, something within her enlarged. Her heart beat with new possibilities, and the open space within her empowered her to run.

What does it look like for you to run? What does it look like for you to operate in sheer, simple joy? What does it look like to escape the confinement of sorrow and break into the open spaces of hosanna? Perhaps it is time for you to answer these questions and get that image into your mind. Why? Because Easter always brings something new and unexpected. Howevrer, it’s not just a scent, drizzle, or shower. Easter is a deluge of hope, and it makes all things new.

A few years ago, I picked up an N. T. Wright devotional from a used bookstore, titled Christians at the Cross. It actually inspired this short devotional series as it also walks through each day of Passion Week with suggested reading accompanied by short sermons. For Holy Saturday, he simply entitled the chapter “Waiting.” While reading that, it all became clear.

The great theme of Holy Saturday is simply this: silence.

As difficult as Good Friday was, can you imagine waking up on Saturday? Your eyes open, and in layers of dread, fear, and sadness, you review what happened the day before. Faintly, vainly, you hope it was all a dream, but that hope only makes the grim reality surge in your emotions with greater force. You can’t find comfort in the other disciples huddled in the house. They are on the same roller coaster ride. Wet eyes. Suffocating fear. Singeing anger. And the one, overwhelming question, gnawing at your heart and mind: Where is God?

To say the disciples had lived in a flurry of God-activity is an understatement. From the moment they followed Jesus, it was one miracle after another. In fact, John wrote, “And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21:25). What a stark contrast to their experience on Holy Saturday. They had assumed His miracles would crescendo into His crowning as King in Jerusalem. Instead, they abruptly ended on a bloody cross. And now, on Saturday, as the dark sky turned gray before dawn, they awoke to questions without answers.

Had they reviewed the scriptures, they would have found language to express their sorrow. In Psalms such as Psalm 89, they would have found prior examples of disappointment and pain and crying out to a God who seemed utterly silent. The Psalmist recounts God’s promises and then compares them to his circumstances that are completely the opposite. With anguish, he asks, “How long? Where are you? When will you do something, anything?” The Psalmist doesn’t record a response from God.

Have you ever had a Holy Saturday moment? Perhaps you’re living in one right now. Waiting. Listening. Praying. Asking. Believing. But hearing nothing.

The disciples left all to follow Jesus. There was nothing to go back to. There was nothing left to do, but wait. And somehow, some way, hope. Again, if they had reviewed the scriptures, they would have found language for their sorrow, and they would have found something else, too: promise. They would have read Jeremiah write, “It is good the one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (Lamentations 3:26). Sometimes, it feels foolish to keeping waiting when everything is silent, but Holy Saturday teaches us something different. It brings into reality Lamentations 3:26. When you’re waiting in the silence, quietly, it is good. Because a new day will always dawn.

And yet, we must gaze at the details, for in beholding them we find salvation. The picture certainly isn’t pretty (to say the least), but somehow the gore brings healing and life. Isaiah prophesied this paradox, saying, “He has no form or comeliness; and when we see Him, there is no beauty that we should desire Him . . . and we hid, as it were, our faces from Him . . .” (53:2, 3). Then, Isaiah declares the outcome: “By His knowledge My righteous Servant shall justify many . . .” (53:11). The reality of Jesus’ crucifixion is too horrific for us to behold. In response, we hide our faces. However, if we will choose to look upon what repulses us, the result is unexpected: justification, salvation, eternal life.

Jesus also prophesied this paradox: “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:14, 15). When Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, it was an odd gesture. It was not the most obvious cure to Israel’s plague. In response to their sin, God had “sent fiery serpents among the people” (Numbers 21:6). As they were dying, God also gave Moses the remedy: “Make a fiery serpent, and set it on a pole; and it shall be that everyone who is bitten, when he looks at it, shall live” (21:8). By looking upon the consequence of their sin, somehow they are forgiven of their sins and healed of the poison. Jesus used this story as the template for His crucifixion.

On the cross, the world beholds the consequence of its sin. Death. However, the result is eternal life to those who behold and believe.

Ironically, the vocation of the church is to herald the most tragic event in human history as “good news.” We compel the world to see God’s beauty by describing an event void of all beauty. Jesus promised, “And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all peoples to Myself” (John 12:32). We typically apply this verse to worship songs and church services where we magnify the name of Jesus (which is not a bad application). However, John explains Jesus’s original meaning in the next verse: “This He said, signifying by what death He would die” (12:33). By “lifted up,” Jesus meant death on a cross. Somehow, that death would draw all peoples.

Here’s a question each of us can ask ourselves: Do I shy away from the darker bits of my story? When I tell others what God has done for me, do I include the cross moments or do I only tell the resurrection moments?

If we only tell the world about the garden of resurrection and leave out the garden of anguish, then we’re doing them a disservice. It’s the cross, the betrayal, the hypocrisy, the pain of Good Friday that makes it good. It’s the bad parts that make it beautiful. Let God’s story and your story speak to others in ways that may be counterintuitive, but, in the end, they release life.

Though all of us remember this moment, I want to highlight something we do often forget about that night: Judas was still in the room.

Before Judas Iscariot became known as the one who betrayed Jesus, he was one of the disciples, right there alongside Peter, James, John, and all the others. Though we can see treacherous tendencies in him as we read the Gospels today, his fellow disciples didn’t see them. They were shocked, dumbfounded when Jesus said, “One of you will betray Me” (John 13:21). They didn’t all look at Judas in suspicion. They all looked at themselves, knowing their own weaknesses.

The disciples didn’t know Judas’s treachery, but Jesus did. And He still washed his feet.

Before Jesus girds Himself as a servant, John writes that the devil had “already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray Him” (John 13:2). He continues to write, “[Jesus] knew who would betray Him; therefore He said, ‘You are not all clean” (13:11). After this, you would expect John to explain how Jesus skipped Judas in the foot-washing ceremony. You would expect Jesus to wait until Judas left the room before He continued to serve everyone. But that isn’t the next verse. Instead, John tells us that Jesus “washed their feet” (13:12). “Their feet” would included Judas’s feet.

When Jesus modeled servanthood to others, He didn’t just model servanthood to His friends. He model servanthood to the man who would betray Him. In fact, Judas, within his heart, had already betrayed Him. Still, Jesus served.

Of course, there are larger, Gospel implications here for all of us. Paul tells us in Romans 5:8 that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Each of us is Judas. Each of us has the treachery and betrayal that led Jesus to the cross. Rather than dismissing us from the room in judgment, Jesus humble Himself on the cross and washed us clean.

As glorious as this is, Maundy Thursday has implication not only for what God has done for us, but also it has application for what God wants to do through us. Just as Jesus serve others, God has called us to serve. But not just our employees, friends, or friendly acquaintances. He has called us to serve those who think, speak, and act viciously toward us. “A servant is not greater than his master” (John 13:16). If He washed the feet of Judas, who betrayed Him to death for a few pieces of silver, surely we can serve those who oppose us.

This Maundy Thursday, let’s ask ourselves these two questions: Who do I want to avoid serving? How do serve them in love, in spite of my hesitation?

Therefore, every detail of Passover is significant. Exodus 12 is a treasury of insight and revelation. From the month of the year to the day of the week to the process of preparation to the ensuing feast––all of it has purpose. However, rather than trying to bite off more than we can chew in one devotional, let’s look at just one detail.

“And thus you shall eat [the lamb]; with a belt on our waist, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand. So you shall eat it in haste . . .” (Exodus 12:11).

Years ago, I heard Pastor Casey Doss preach a message about this verse, and I want to summarize some of it. God instructs the children of Israel to eat in a peculiar way. Rather than eating reclined at table, enjoying their meal, He tells them to eat with their belt, sandals, and staff in place, as though they are about to leave. He tells them in eat “in haste.”

Why?

Of course, in hindsight, it’s easy to know why. They are about to leave Egypt so quickly that they will not have time to prepare themselves and pack. God will do such a “suddenly” that they will need to eat expectantly, ready for it to happen. Like I mentioned, in hindsight it is easy to see this. However, think about it from Israel’s perspective. You have been waiting for years, groaning in slavery. Now, God tells you to eat your dinner quickly because deliverance will happen faster than you can imagine. It took a large amount of faith to obey God in this Passover detail!

What is the application for us?

At times, it’s easy to recline and get comfortable in certain areas because of how long we’ve been waiting on a miracle to happen. What if this Passover, though, God’s telling you to shake yourself? What if He wants to act in a way that your natural mind can not comprehend? Would you be ready for that?

Here are some further questions you can ask yourself as you process Exodus 12: Where am I comfortable when I should be expectant? Where am I unprepared if God moved suddenly? What steps do I need to take in order to be ready for a quick deliverance?

Israel obeyed God by eating in haste, and they walked out of Egypt. What will God do in us as we bring our expectation into alignment with His will?

God prepares the way for our sake–not for His. He doesn’t need the way prepared. We do. If God reveals Himself to a people unprepared to meet Him, then they could ignorantly discard and dishonor the only One who is able to save them. In His mercy, God sends forerunners to prepare the hearts of men to perceive and receive the beauty of God. He restrains revelation until we are able to respond appropriately.

Consider what Jesus told the disciples in John 16:12, 13: “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. However, when He, the Spirit of truth, has come, He will guide you into all truth . . . .” Jesus wanted to give them more revelation, but He restrained it because they were not ready to receive it. He then promised that the Holy Spirit would prepare their hearts, guiding them into truth as they were able to handle it.

How does this fit into your world during Passion Week? Well, Easter is a season where each of us heeds the words of John the Baptist: “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). We gaze afresh at the cross of Jesus Christ. Different people do this in different ways. Some read devotionals like this one. Most churches put strong emphasis on Communion. Others annually watch Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. In our similar and different ways, we endeavor to behold the Lamb.

Here are my questions to you: This year, what will you see? Will you see Jesus with eyes of revelation or will you see Him with eyes of familiarity? Are you prepared to receive something new?

Before John the Baptist said, “Behold,” he said, “Prepare.” Before John identified the Lamb to the multitudes, he prepared the multitudes for the Lamb. In other words, John the Baptist knew that if the people of Israel were going to see Jesus correctly, then they needed to prepare themselves to see Jesus correctly. How did they do this? By confessing and repenting of any sin that could obstruct their vision. The multitudes not only came to hear John preach, but they “were baptized by him in the Jordan, confessing their sins” (Matthew 3:6). Through confession, repentance, and baptism, they prepared their hearts to meet the Lamb.

How do you prepare your heart this Easter season? Simply ask God if there is anything obstructing your vision. Ask God to bring awareness to any areas that grieve the Holy Spirit. As you acknowledge, repent, and release those, it clears your eyes and prepares your heart. And God will not restrain Himself when our hearts are ready to meet Him.

While it is true that crowds laud Jesus as “the King who comes in the name of the LORD,” it is also true that the majority within the city of Jerusalem do not know Him. In fact, when Matthew writes his account, he describes Jerusalem’s reaction like this: “And when [Jesus] had come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, ‘Who is this?’” (Matthew 21:10). The inhabitants of the city had to ask other people the identify of their own King.

If you consider the prophetic history and destiny of Jerusalem, this ought to be a shocking moment. According to scripture, Jerusalem is the city from which God will rule the nations through His appointed King, Jesus (see Psalm 2). Jerusalem is the city to which the nations will flow as they seek wisdom and counsel from God (see Isaiah 2). However, the city from which God will flood the earth with glory and to which the nation will ascend in worship––that city does not recognize her own King when He comes. According to John’s gospel, it was the people who saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead who actually praised Him as He entered the city. Those people would have primarily been from Bethany–not Jerusalem (compare John 12:1 and 12:17).

This explains why Jesus weeps as He rides toward Jerusalem (Luke 19:41). Though He receives the praises from Bethany, His destiny is to be enthroned in Jerusalem. However, the city is unprepared to receive Him as King. Perhaps, this is why Jesus not only enters the city, but He also visits the Temple and drives out those who bought and sold, re-establishing it as a house of prayer. He judges one activity and establishes another. He judges the merchandise-activity that left Jerusalem unprepared. He establishes prayer as the activity that will prepare the way for His return as King.

What application does this have for each of us?

It has enormous, multi-faceted application. Let me identify just one key point, though: the necessity of prayer. It’s easy to assume that when God acts we’ll be able to “jump in.” When God moves, we’ll be able to enjoy the movement and receive the benefits. However, without prayer, we could find ourselves in the same condition as Jerusalem at the “triumphal entry.” We could find ourselves calloused through carnal activity rather than sensitive, alert, and aware through prayer. Therefore, this Easter season, may each of us find a resurgence of prayer in our lives. May we quiet the noise around us, and allow the Holy Spirit to draw us closer to God’s heart as we prepare the way for Jesus the King.

If you are like me, a lot of good, Biblical words have simply become invisible. Through familiarity, I stop seeing them or thinking about them. I can hear them, but not experience their full meaning. This is certainly true of “hosanna.” From infancy, I’ve been attending Palm Sunday services, hearing this word, but not thinking about its definition. However, if this word is entrusted to bring Jesus into Jerusalem, it’s probably worthy of deeper consideration.

According to Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance, “hosanna” is a compound word, originating from two Hebrew words. One of them means “I pray.” The other means “to be open, wide, or free” or to have “ample space.” When you put them together, “hosanna” is a prayer, asking God to bring us into an open space where we have ample room.

Gesenius’ Hebrew-Chaldee Lexicon notes that the idea of being brought into spacious places is common throughout scripture, signifying two things: 1) salvation and 2) prosperity. When God saves us, He brings us out of the narrow place of death, confined to the tomb. When God blesses us, He brings us out of the confinement of lack and empowers us to fulfill purpose, maximizing God-given potential. Thayer’s Greek Lexicon explains how “hosanna” essentially summarizes Psalm 118: 25: “Save now, I pray, O LORD; O LORD, I pray, send now prosperity.” Salvation and prosperity are the two objectives in this prayer.

Therefore, when the multitudes interject “hosanna” on Palm Sunday, they are asking God to bring rescue and blessing through His appointment King, Jesus. However, they are not just asking anymore. They are using the word as a praise. They are no longer hoping God would do Psalm 118:25 at some point in the future. They are recognizing God is now doing Psalm 118:25 in front of their eyes.

There is much more to explore about this word, but perhaps this is a good starting point. This year, as you hear “hosanna,” ask yourself these questions: Where do I feel confined? Where do I need rescue? Where do I need blessing? God entrusted this word to introduce Jesus to Jerusalem. Perhaps, when we identify where we need ample space it prepares us to meet our King as well.