Today...
Stuart Hall
Today, Marsha sits down at her breakfast table over a gargantuan cup of steaming hot java and her Bible. The coffee serves as a surrogate attempt to open her eyes, mind, and heart to the Truth spread out in the pages before her. She seeks in desperation. Her son, only a toddler, has been diagnosed with leukemia. The attempts of family and friends to extend hope are futile at best, most riddled with religious clichés that grow long on eloquence and short on substance. She and her husband are hopeful of his recovery, but hope tends to sink with each examination, each chemo session, each sleepless night. Marsha grows weary of hoping, tired of bailing fear. She needs a promise from God. And so she searches.
Today, a middle-aged couple sits together at breakfast in silence, ignoring the proverbial pink elephant that looms hauntingly in the corner. No man is an island, but selfishness can certainly banish one to the middle of nowhere. Shark-infested waters of unmet expectations and distrust surround their marriage of 20-plus years. Both are believers. Both hope God can heal their wounds, change their minds, and teach them to love each other again, but hope just doesn’t seem to be getting the job done. And so they independently move through their respective lives together, both praying that today something miraculous will happen, the theme song from Titanic will begin to play, and Jack coming to Rose’s rescue will play itself out in their relationship (minus the whole ship sinking, freezing water, and floating on a door thing, of course).
Today, a 16-year-old young woman keenly maneuvers herself through the snake-like maze commonly known as the sophomore hall at her high school. Her mind and heart, however, resemble a heavily trafficked intersection after a tractor-trailer of chickens has overturned during the heat of rush hour. The pressure of getting to her next class is no match for the pressure she feels to fulfill the American teenage dream. Popularity. A hot date to the prom. Maybe even love. Obtaining and maintaining a Hollywood figure. All the while living in purity for His renown. The prospect of the total sum of these ideals seems as promising as Chris Brown speaking at an anti-domestic violence rally. Smeared mascara displays her inner turmoil. She prays and pleads with God, hoping that today will be the day that her life just . . . clicks.
Today, husband and wife watch and listen intently to their television as Matt, Meredith, Al, and Ann spin the latest financial and economic collapse. Regardless of party allegiance, today’s latest news of past indiscretions, fallen soldiers, finger-pointing, and economic indicators cast a shadow of doubt on the future. The news does not cement anything, but rather creates more questions. Having faith is rather far-fetched when so much seems sketchy. So they individually and collectively hope for the best and brace for the worst.
Interesting, isn’t it, how much we as people of faith live life in the land of hope? In religious circles, we seem to speak of them as one in the same. But there is a vast and misunderstood chasm between hope and faith. In reality, trusting and hoping have yardage between them. In reality, faith is hope bridged with a promise. Yes, hope is the beginning of faith. But it is not Biblical faith at all. Allow me to expound . . .
Let’s say you walk up to me on a Sunday morning while I am sitting in my car trying to get out of my church’s parking lot without cussing, and you hand me a note and walk away. I read the note. It is an invitation for my family and me to meet you at Dreamland BBQ for lunch. What would give you reason to trust that my family and I would meet you for lunch? You could hope that we would meet you there. You could even order me sweet tea and the Big John chicken sandwich with baked beans. But you would have no reason to have faith that I would meet you there. Unless, when you handed me the note, I promised you we would be there. Then you could operate with fullest confidence that my family and I would be there. Your confidence would be based on my promise.
That is a picture of Biblical faith: believing that God is who He says He is and that He will do everything He has promised He will do. God has given us countless promises in His Word. He wants you and me to live confidently in Him, to trust Him when all hell is breaking loose around us. For Marsha, faith will mean that He does not always promise us what we want Him to. For the couple in relational Antarctica, faith means we love without any promise of love in return. Sometimes trusting Him means we believe that He can, not that He will. And, of course, arriving at a place of total trust is much more complex than these few words can articulate. But when you examine the fingerprints of God in our collective lives, we see that He uses other people, doses of selflessness, unpredicted events, private times of seeking, and especially His truth to bring us to this point: trusting in a God that does what He says He will do. Because what God wants most for you is that you would become a person of faith.
Easter is the celebration of the foundation of our faith, the ultimate promise kept. Any man who promises He will die and raise Himself from the dead, and then pulls it off, deserves your trust. If you don’t believe that is a big deal, try it yourself. Die and raise yourself from the dead. A rather idiotic request, right? Not any more idiotic than the countless students within your circle of influence who don’t think God is trustworthy. An empty grave is hard to discount.
So, today, know this: His promises are new. Today, His ways are the same. Today, God is at work bringing you to Himself. He stands like an orchestra conductor, baton in hand, directing His beautiful symphony of events, relationships, and promises for your good and His glory.
Today, because of an empty grave, know that you, your students, and all of us can trust Him.
Notes From The Editor
When trying to plan an Easter series for our XP3 subscribers, we quickly realized the best thing we could do for our partners would be to provide flexibility. After all, every church teaches differently at Easter. Some churches wave palm branches on Palm Sunday, and some don’t. Some churches have big productions to tell the Easter story, others use a communicator to convey the narrative. And some churches may cancel student programming completely on Easter Sunday.
So we’ve created an Easter series that covers three well-known stories: the triumphal entry, the Last Supper, and the empty tomb. In addition to the three sessions, the XP for this series is a special service focusing on the crucifixion, using both Scripture and specific clips from The Passion of the Christ movie. The title of this year’s Easter series is Shift.
Depending on your schedule, you may have time to do all three sessions of the Shift series, or you may have to leave one out. You may have time for the XP, or you may not. If you do have complete freedom in your schedule, we would recommend doing Session 1, Session 2, The Crucifixion XP, and Session 3.
Here is the description of the Shift series:
Over 2,000 years ago, people were looking for a change. They wanted their lives to look different. They wanted freedom; they wanted change. Many thought that would come through a political change. Some thought it would come through personal gain. But in the last days leading up to and following Jesus’ death, there was a significant shift that happened. A shift that forever changed the way you and I connect to God. A shift that redefined who we are. A shift that brought freedom and change—even if it looks completely different from what we expect.
And just in case you are wondering, the next series we will release is another one from the Andy Stanley Collection, a four-week series on temptation called The Battle Within.
Thanks for allowing us to partner with your student ministry. We hope to see you at the Orange Conference, and we invite you to be a part of that conversation as we rethink student ministry.
Tim Walker
XP3 Lead Editor
