Beneath a Veil

On this Good Friday, I’d like to share a hymn with you that has helped me center myself on the spiritual meaning and depth of Jesus’s sacrifice.  The hymn is entitled “Thee We Adore,” and the English text below is translated from Thomas Aquinas, an important 13th century priest.  Tara and I found this hymn through one of the area choirs in which we sing; the tune we sang (by a composer named Candlyn) is hauntingly beautiful.

Thee we adore, O hidden Savior, thee,
Who in thy sacrament art pleased to be;
Both flesh and spirit in thy presence fail.
Yet here thy presence we devoutly hail.

photo by Elias Rovielo
photo by Elias Rovielo

Thomas Aquinas was instrumental in the philosophical arguments behind the Catholic doctrine called “transsubstantiation” – that is, that the bread and wine of the Lord’s Supper literally become the body and blood of Jesus when we share at his table.  We in the Church of God do not believe this happens, but we can certainly agree that “both flesh and spirit in thy presence fail.”  Being in the Lord’s presence is truly awesome.

O blest memorial of our dying Lord,
Who living bread to men doth here afford!
O may our souls forever feed on thee,
And thou, O Christ, forever precious be.

Jesus taught us that he is the Bread of Life (John 6:22-59).  When we share at the Lord’s table, we are reminded that he is true food and true drink.  And when we gather at the foot of the cross, we are reminded of the truth behind the meal that we share:  the bread and wine remind us of the great price Jesus paid so that we might have forgiveness and relationship with him.

Fountain of goodness, Jesu, Lord and God,
Cleanse us, unclean, in thy most cleansing flood.
Increase our faith and love, that we may know
The hope and peace which from thy presence flow.

Jesu, short for Jesus, is the source of all hope and peace.  His blood is a “most cleansing flood” that can wash us clean from sin through faith and love.  This season is a powerful time to remember, to wash, and to remain quietly in his presence.

O Christ, whom now beneath a veil we see,
May what we thirst for soon our portion be,
To gaze on thee unveiled, and see thy face,
The vision of thy glory and thy grace.

Our hope is always for a future with Jesus Christ.  When we stand at the foot of the cross, at the tomb containing Jesus’s body, we wait for a yet-to-be-revealed future.  When we see the bread of the Lord’s Supper hidden beneath a cloth, we yearn for the time when we can see Christ face to face.  Until then, we thirst, we hunger, we meditate, we draw close to Christ, we hold vigil at the tomb.

I’ll see you on the other side.

–Pastor David

Darkness Before Light

This is one of the most powerful weeks in Christian faith – the week known as “Holy Week,” the set of days that commemorate the final days of Jesus’s life, those that led up to his crucifixion and burial. Within a week of being ushered into Jerusalem with shouts of “Hosanna!”, Jesus was condemned to die via public execution as an example to those who would disrupt the status quo. Of course, we understand that his death had tremendous significance: he was the sacrificial lamb, perfect and unblemished, wholly divine, whose death satisfied the demands of a just God who requires sacrifice to accompany our repentance of sin.

Yes, we always live as Easter people. That is, we live as people who believe in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, an event the Christian world will celebrate on Sunday. Christ proved his power over sin and death by rising to newness of life; therefore, we too have hope that this life is not the end of the story for those who believe in him.

Yes, we always live as Christmas people. That is, we live as people who celebrate the fact that God chose to become one of us, to live and dwell among us in the person of Jesus of Nazareth. We have the comfort of knowing that God understands our human predicament, and he continues to dwell in and among us in the person of the Holy Spirit.

However, at least for this week, we must live as Good Friday people. We must remember the betrayal, trial, and torturous death experienced by our Lord. We must experience the spiritual darkness of Good Friday before celebrating the marvelous joy of Easter Sunday. Why?

I believe that if we do not fully experience the magnitude of this week’s events, then our message of the gospel becomes truncated. If our message to the world is only hope and peace and joy and victory, then that message will bounce right off of the pain-hardened shells in which people live. Yes, we have a message of hope – for ourselves as well as the world – but this is no mere feel-good message. This is a gospel which has tasted the bitterness of death, which has walked through the darkest valley, which has known the worst that the world has to offer.

Friends, allow the joy of this Sunday to come when it will come. In the meantime, contemplate the magnitude of the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Walk with him through the Garden of Gethsemane, into the courts of Caiaphas and Pilate, and along the long road to the Hill of the Skull. And remember that these dark events have tremendous meaning for God’s relationship with you and with those around you.

–Pastor David