-- MercyMe
I watched the movie “I Can Only Imagine” last night. Through the story of MercyMe’s lead singer Bart Millard, the movie presented the history of the most famous song in modern Christian music and how it launched the band’s rise from obscurity to the big time.
It’s also a great movie about forgiveness and redemption. The once overplayed-to death-song is now just a bright star in the constellation of pop/country/Christian music. For most, it’s probably a fond memory of songs gone by, unless you played it at a loved one’s funeral. Which I did at my mom’s memorial service in early 2004 when the song was still residing on the BillboardHot 100 list.
Watching Millard debut the song at the end of the movie was a powerful moment, transporting me back to the day in Monterey when my mom was memorialized with tributes, slide shows, and I Can Only Imagine. Fifteen years later, the song is still being used at funerals.
I’ve been to too many funerals lately. I feel like I’ve entered a new season in the circle-of-life department. It’s like the post-college season when there was a wedding every other month. Instead of watching friends tie the knot, I’m now consoling them when they lose a parent, or in some cases their spouse. This time of life should be called Four Funerals and a Wedding.
And often, I Can Only Imaginestreams through the speakers as the slideshows roll on.
And yet this weekend, as we remember Christ’s death and subsequent resurrection, I can’t help but think that the one man who conquered death didn’t receive a funeral. I don’t know how funerals went in ancient Israel. Maybe they had a weeklong period of mourning, complete with potato casseroles, sackcloth, and ashes. Maybe the deceased, like Jesus, was buried right away. We know from John 11 that Lazarus was in his tomb for four days before being raised to life. But how many days after his death did the burial occur? Jesus died just before the start of the Sabbath and he was hastily laid to rest. The resurrection account in Luke 24 says that the women were on their way to prepare Jesus’ body. So maybe a more formal and proper funeral was forthcoming. Good thing Jesus didn’t die on a Tuesday and he came back to life three days later in the middle of his funeral. I can only imaginewhat that would have been like.
Yesterday morning, I had a brief conversation with my checker at Trader Joes. It was crowded at an early hour and our chat led to Easter. He said he was thinking of asking his customers what significance Easter has for them. I asked how it was going. He said I was the first.
So I told him Easter is the day I celebrate the resurrected life of the one who purchased my forgiveness and conquered death.
He liked my response.
But I must ask you now. Who is Jesus to you?
Is his just the first name you utter when you’re upset or frustrated? Are you a fan, but there’s no way in H-E-L-L you’d ever darken the door of a church? Did you grow up in the faith, still believe, but have no space or time for organized religion? Is Easter only for family gatherings, with egg hunts for the kids and a ham the size of a Honda?
If so, I’d like you think about getting to know Jesus the way I do. Lord knows I’ve made my share of mistakes … of all shapes and sizes, so I’m not trying to judge. I throw a lot of things, baseballs, parties, ideas; but certainly not any rocks.
But the Jesus I know asks you to forgive those who hurt you and then gives you the ability to do so.
The Jesus I know redeems the pain of bad decisions (yours and others) and gives you second chances that are more amazing that you could have ever hoped or imagined.
The Jesus I know holds your head above water when you feel like you’re drowning.
He brings help when the walls you have to climb are too high and the river you have to cross is too wide.
He accepts you the way you are.
He doesn’t require you go to a specific church, change your political worldview, or stop hanging out with your best friends.
But he does ask for everything you have: your fears, worries, cares, burdens, hopes, hurts, and dreams … basically your life. Then he wastes nothing in working it all for good.
He climbs mountains, kicks in doors, and swims oceans to get to you when you need him most. He digs you out from under the weight of guilt and shame.
The Jesus I know loves you like a really good parent loves a son or a daughter. Tenderly, compassionately, and patiently.
The Jesus I know came back to life, conquered death, rolled away the stone, and exited the tomb so that YOU could have life, not just a future eternal life in heaven … which is a pretty darn good thing … but a life of peace and hope in both the joyful and the painful times here on earth NOW.
The Jesus I know is hanging out with my mom in heaven. I am confident of this because I know that before she died, she knew him like I do.
Easter was her favorite holiday. She used to dress us up, take us to church, and cook a wonderful meal.
I can only imagine what it’s like for her in heaven. Because of the Jesus I know, someday I’ll find out.
Will you be joining me?
HAPPY EASTER
