I am “here.” But I look over “there.” “There” seems very appealing. I wish I was “there.” “There” seems to be better than “here.” I want to go “there.”

So I set my mind to go “there.” I strive with all my strength and effort to get “there.” And finally I get “there.”

But this is the problem when I get “there.” “There” is no longer “there.” “There” is now “here.”

My point is that you never get “there.” There will always be a “there” because you are always “here.” If you never learn to be content “here,” you will never be content when you get “there.”

Listen to these words from the Apostle Paul:

“I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.” (Philippians 4:12, ESV)

Contentment is LEARNED. Contentment is not found by gaining something you don’t have. If you don’t learn contentment with what you already have, you will never know contentment with the things you don’t have.

There will always be someone who has something you don’t have. So remember that contentment is not about what you possess in your hand. It is about what you possess in your heart.

Today we remember Jesus sacrifice on the cross. It is a somber day. We remember the pain, the grief, the suffering, the darkness, and the loneliness. As Jesus hung on the cross at that moment, he bore the weight of the sin of the world. Listen to these words from the prophet Isaiah, written 700 years before Jesus:

“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5, ESV)

He bore the weight. He was crushed for our iniquities. When you visit Rockefeller Center across 5th Ave from St. Patricks Cathedral in the New York City, you may see the sculpture of Atlas holding up the world with all of his strength. His knees are buckling. His arms are trembling. There is blood running down his chest. The last of his energy is spent on this impossible task. While this is a myth, Atlas holding up the world, it resembles what happens on the cross.

Jesus is no myth but he bears the weight of the world. He carries all that is wrong with the world, all the suffering in the world, all the evil in the world, and all the sin of the world. It crushes him. He cries out, it is finished. Suffocated, all his breath is let out of him.

But Jesus does not bear our sin because he had to. He chooses to do so. He willingly takes this weight upon himself. He is willingly crushed. He does so out of love. Jesus does not suffer because he was condemned by Pontius Pilate and the religious leaders. It was not the nails that held him to the cross. There is no one who held power and authority like Jesus held. He could have commanded 10,000 angels to come to his rescue if he chose that. It was love alone that held him to the cross.

Those looking on mocked him:

“He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him.” (Matthew 27:42, ESV)

Little did they know, he could have saved himself. Yet, he chose to die so that they might live. Jesus chose forgiveness and love rather than condemnation and vengeance.

As God, Jesus is the only one who was able to take such a burden. It was Jesus alone. That moment on the cross was the loneliness moment ever in the history of all creation. There was

• no one to help him.
• no one to rescue him.
• no one to comfort him.
• no one to listen to him.
• no one to assure him.
• no one to love him.

“He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (Isaiah 53:3, ESV)

There is no other way to say it – Jesus endured hell! He went through the fire. People sometimes joke about hell being a party with their friends. Nothing could be further from the truth. The pain of hell is not fire. It is something far worse. It is the pain of despairing loneliness. But Jesus endured such loneliness to save us from it.

This is a day we are often somber and sad. We remember what Jesus did. We reflect the fact that the reason he did what he did was because of our sin. We recognize we are as responsible for Jesus death as much as Pontius Pilate, the religious leaders, and the Roman soldiers. We realize that we are no different than his closest followers who abandoned him in this most crucial moment.

Our sadness is mortality. It is our sin. It is our lack of faithfulness. Our sorrow is how we have taken for granted his amazing love and sacrifice. We are humbled on this day that we would have the audacity to demand anything of a God who gave all.

Still, our remembrance of the sacrifice must be tempered with the hope of Easter. Sin would crush him, but it would not conquer him. He is the one to bear our sin because he was without sin. Because he was righteous, he was the only one to bear our unrighteousness.

There is a reason that Good Friday is called good. It is because of Easter Sunday. Without Sunday there is nothing good about Friday. If Jesus had simply been crushed by sin, then all hope would be lost. We would be left with nothing but grief and sorrow.

I have one final thing to say at the end of this lengthy post: Remember that the same spirit that raised Jesus from the dead is at work in you. This is why Paul says:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.” (2 Corinthians 4:7–11, ESV)

We may feel the weight of the world pressing down on us. We may suffer evil. We may be confronted with the consequences of our sin. We may be broken and beat down. We may feel lonely. We may be crushed.

But the cross remains… It is our symbol of hope.

There is a good chance you have seen this pic:

It has made its way around the internet. It is a picture in the aftermath of the devastating fire at Notre Dame. There is incredible destruction here, but still, the cross still shines. The cross still stands.

Our hope, though heaven and earth may pass away, Jesus has won the victory. Whatever devastation you may experience, if you have the cross of Christ, you can know that you will still stand. You can have everything taken from you, but Christ has secured your salvation.

Today is Maundy Thursday. It is the day that Jesus instituted the Lord’s Supper.

“And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:19–20, ESV)

First, he takes the bread. He gives it to the disciples and says to do this in remembrance.

Another way to translate this is: “do this for my remembrance.” In other words, do this for God’s remembrance. That is covenant language. What is to be remembered? The new covenant! Each time we receive the meal, God remembers what he did, through Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross. He secured our forgiveness!

It’s not that God forgets. He never forgets. This remembrance is similar to the way a married couple renews their vows. They never forgot, but the pledge of their love is renewed. The body is given so that the importance of God promise is not forgotten by the God who gives it and the people who receive it.

The next line says that this cup is poured out for you. Jesus says, “it is the new covenant of my blood.” God establishes a new covenant with you when you receive this meal.

I am reminded of one of my mentors, Pastor Harold Hein, who died a few week’s ago. He would always say that the most important words when you receive the Lord’s Supper are “for you.”

The blood is not given by you. The blood is given for you. This meal has nothing to do with what you have done. It is not about your worthiness. It is about all about what God has done for you. It is about Jesus’ worthiness.

Occasionally, someone will ask me if they are worthy to receive the Lord’s Supper. They fear that they are too great of a sinner. The truth is that if this covenant were dependent upon us, none of us would be worthy to receive it. Only Jesus is worthy. Worthy is the Lamb who as slain!

This meal is especially for sinners and those who are unworthy. Where there was no way, God has made a way.

On the last day, there will be “good people” who will be condemned. There will be “bad people” who will receive salvation. Our salvation has nothing to do with how good (or bad) we are. It is all about how good Jesus is. Our salvation is because we are given the blood of the covenant. It is blood we receive when we drink the wine, receiving it in faith as the blood of Jesus.

“Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:2, ESV)

This week is Holy Week. This week we focus on how Jesus gave his life. He died on the cross to rescue us from our sins. He took the punishment that was ours. And it is by his wounds that we are healed.

He died for you because you were worth it. Hebrews 12:2 describes the joy set before Jesus. He did what he did out of joy. There was pain. There was suffering. But it was done out of love. His love was greater than the agony. It was love that compelled him to offer himself as a sacrifice.

It is a picture of a well-lived life. Jesus told us he came that we may have abundant life. At the same time, he tells us to take up our crosses and follow him. These things would seem to contradict one another. We don’t associate an abundant life with struggle and strife. Yet, that is to what Jesus invites us.

To fully live you need to have something for which to die. Is there a cause or calling that would lead you to give all? Do you have a purpose that is bigger than yourself. That is where we discover a well-lived life. And Jesus himself gives us that something more for which to live.

Most of us tend to live for ourselves. We don’t live beyond making it through the day. We struggle because we are so focused on preserving our life. Something that in the end is impossible. We will all lose our lives in this world. But how will it be lost? Will we lose it while trying to hold on to it with desperation? Or will we lose it having given it our all?

Jesus is our reason to live for more. He gives us a reason to lose ourselves. When we lose our lives in him, we will ultimately find it. He is our cause to die (to ourselves) and our reason to live. In him, we die so that we might live.

Yesterday, many of us saw the news reports about Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris. It was a sad sight to see a building of such beauty and historical significance consumed by the ashes. It is even more sad to see this take place during Holy Week.

I was quickly drawn the words of Jesus:

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” (Matthew 24:35, ESV)

I am reminded that our faith is not in structures, buildings, nor dead religion. Our faith is a living faith in a God who raises the dead and pulls us up out of the ashes.

Unfortunately, the burning of Notre Dame is largely a symbol of Christianity in Europe. Cathedrals and church buildings often serve more as historical museums than centers for living faith. America is not far behind. Church buildings are becoming empty shells as thousands of churches close their doors every year. We can be saddened by this loss.

But I can’t help but be reminded of what was lost on Holy Week so many years ago. Jesus died. It must have seemed like the end for the disciples. Their world was devastated. But it turned out that it was only the beginning. Little did the disciples realize the surprise that was coming on Easter Sunday.

God is counter-cultural and counter-intuitive. To become great, he tells us to become a servant. To become rich, he tells us to give away what we have. It is in humility that we receive strength. And it is out of death that he brings life. What seems like defeat to us is the means through which Christ brings victory.

It is when we think something is so great that God will take it from us to give us something greater. For those of faith, our trust and our hope is that through every loss, Christ will build and birth something greater. God has a way of taking our greatest losses in life and turns them into incredible kingdom victories.