With all the noise in the world, do you hear the voice of God? Your calendar tells you what to do, but do you remember who you are? Being comes before doing. This is a call to put first things first. Return to the Lord with this daily pattern of prayer and devotion. Set aside this time as a sanctuary. Find a space free of distraction and follow this pattern.
Invocation
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Invitation
O Lord, your scars are your trophies, proof of your unfailing love for me. I am haunted by the guilt of my past, the sins of my present, and my fear of the future. Lord, at the cross you said, “It is finished.” So I stop my worry. I rest in you. You have done it all. Amen.
Confession
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Lord, forgive my fugitive ways. I turn and run from you. Forgive my criminal acts of hypocrisy and self-righteousness. Forgive my violations of arrogance and selfishness. Forgive me for denying you, ignoring you, and disregarding you. I am the one at fault. I have no other help but to turn my face to you and plead, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
Word: Luke 23:42-43
“And he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ And he said to him, ‘Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.’”
Meditation: Going to Kevin
Today’s meditation is written by Megan Roegner.
My three-year-old recently attended his first preschool chapel service. It made a big impression on him: We’ve talked quite a bit about “chapelton,” as he calls it, in the past couple of weeks. Pastor Jeff talked to the kids about how Jesus died on the cross, and Benny’s attention was captured by the image of Jesus stumbling under the weight of the cross on the long walk to Calvary.
Last weekend, as Benny and I were talking about Jesus dying on the cross once again, I said something about Jesus dying and rising from the grave so that we could be with him in heaven after we die.
Benny looked at me in shock. “We’re going to die?”
“Um, yes…” I said, realizing that up until this point, he had thought that death was something only Jesus experienced. I started regretting my choice of words.
“Even Benjamin?” he asked.
When I replied yes, that he too would die one day, he audibly gasped. He ran downstairs to tell his dad, with wide eyes, “I’m going to die.” The next morning during Jesus Time at church, he turned to our friend and told her gravely, “I’m going to die.”
Trying to reassure Benny, I talked more about heaven and about being with Jesus after death. I was a little confused when he kept asking if we would be with Kevin when we died. Kevin is our neighbor, and although we are cordial, I didn’t think that Benny was close enough to him to be concerned about whether we’d be spending eternity together. Soon, I realized that when I said “ go to heaven,” Benny heard “go to Kevin.”
Once we got that straightened out, Benny had more concerns. He didn’t want to live anywhere besides our home, so an afterlife in heaven didn’t seem like a consolation for death. Fortunately, his godfather, Pastor Bobby, visited that evening, and over a plate of Dino nuggets, Benny was reassured that heaven would be even better than our house.
There’s nothing like a three-year-old’s existential crisis to make you confront your own lack of knowledge and understanding about death and the afterlife. It’s easy to say the words of the Nicene Creed, “We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.” It’s harder to grapple with the enormity of what that means. Sometimes we just have to rest, unknowing, in the ineffable nature of God’s love.
The other morning as Benny and I were driving to preschool, he was singing “The Butterfly Song.” After singing the chorus, “And I just thank you, Father, for making me, me,” he asked, “Why did God make me?” Sometimes words aren’t enough to explain—three-year-olds aren’t satisfied with cliches and metaphors and ambiguities. But when we got out of the car that morning, we saw a rainbow, even though it hadn’t been raining. And while I wasn’t able to unravel all of the mysteries of the universe and our place in it that morning, I was able to point to the rainbow and say that God loves us and promises to take care of us. Now and in the life to come.
Jesus, thank you for your sacrifice, for forgiving our sins so we can be with you for eternity. Even when we don’t have all the answers, let us be confident and secure in your love for us. Amen.
Benediction
Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant,equip you with everything good that you may do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Heb. 13:20-21)