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Baker Publishing Group - Jo Kadlecek

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87 pages

English

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Why did Jesus spend forty days on earth after his death when he could have returned home to the majesty of heaven? And out of all the people on the planet at that time who could have helped him get a major religious movement off the ground, why did he seek out those who had run the other way when he was crucified? In this fascinating book, Jo Kadlecek shows readers how the disciples who saw Jesus after his death were changed from sometimes bumbling scaredy-cats to pillars of the Christian faith. She invites readers to experience their own transformation in every part of life--relationships, jobs, finances, family, and more--as they come to a new understanding and appreciation of the basis of the faith: the bodily resurrection of Jesus Christ.

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Philosophie et théologie

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 juin 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781441212283
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0403€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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L ESSONS OF H OPE FROM THE R ESURRECTION
J O K ADLECEK
2010 by Jo Kadlecek
Published by Baker Books a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.bakerbooks.com
E-book edition created 2010
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-for example, electronic, photocopy, recording-without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
ISBN 978-1-4412-1228-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture is taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION . NIV . Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Scripture marked Message is taken from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson, copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved.
Published in association with the literary agency of Alive Communications, Inc., 7680 Goddard Street, Suite 200, Colorado Springs, CO 80920. www.alivecommunications.com .
They had expected a walkover, and they beheld a victory; they had expected an earthly Messiah, and they beheld the Soul of Eternity.
Dorothy L. Sayers, The Triumph of Easter, Letters to a Diminished Church
God raised him from the dead, and for many days he was seen by those who had traveled with him from Galilee to Jerusalem. They are now his witnesses to our people.
Paul, in Acts 13:30-31
Contents
Introduction: Impossible Stories
1. Desperate Truth
2. Unlikely Witnesses
3. Name s Sake
4. Teachable Moments
5. Sensory Appeal
6. Doubting Voices
7. Beach Fires
8. Sent Again
Notes
Bibliography
Acknowledgments
Introduction I MPOSSIBLE S TORIES
Last fall, I planted bulbs in the front of our house. Daffodils, lilies, tulips, crocuses, you name it. I went a little crazy because it felt like a junior high science experiment and I wondered if it d work. If it did, I knew that by spring I d be seeing petals.
For urban types like me, gardening experience is limited to a few window boxes from community block parties. So I consider it downright amazing to bury one thing in the ground and have it emerge months later something altogether different. It seems an impossible feat: in spite of concrete, asphalt, or broken beer bottles, flowers with colors as bright as any New York taxi can burst forth.
Granted, this new concept is anything but. Yet, when I remember holding the hard, colorless round bulb in my hand only to see it now bulging with a green stem and yellow petals, I can t help asking, How did that happen? Forget science class-this is a magic show.
Of course, we don t need flowers in front of our homes or apartments to survive each day. Give us a roof over our heads, a cup of water, and a piece of bread. We ll make it. Like more people in the world than we want to admit, you and I really can exist in simple conditions.
Even so, I m convinced every human does indeed need the magic of nature, of art and color and story, to move beyond existing and enter that place where we live fully, or at least, well. We do need words that spring forth from flower beds, that speak of newness and beauty and hope all wrapped up in one. If nothing else, we need the colors and fragrances of a changing season like spring to soften the concrete struggles around us. They keep us going. They inspire.
That s the nature of resurrection.
To be sure, this undercurrent of the Christian life, this subtext of every story we encounter-death, resurrection, transformation-runs deep in our collective soul. It is the theme of more songs and films, paintings and novels, missions and centers than any other in the history of art (which is the history of humanity). We cheer for the underdog on the screen who conquers each obstacle set in her path; we marvel at the painting that stirs some feeling we d forgotten we had. We turn the dial, change the channel, or visit another creative ministry until we connect to a song or an image that draws us to a new place, a new perspective, a new way to press on.
We re wired to hope. To look forward, not backward. To find beauty and goodness and truth in spite of the gloomy contrast within and around us. We crave it intuitively, looking always for the stuff that helps it emerge within us like lilies in the spring. We want to believe the impossible. Why? My guess is we know there is more to this earthy existence.
Thank God there is.
After Jesus died, he went for walks on the beach. After he spent three days buried in the soil of death, he cooked breakfast for a few friends. He chatted and lingered on side-walks and in gardens, telling stories, holding hands, eating bread. Sure, he lived well before he died. Admirably. Heroically. Boldly. But after he died-that is, after his lungs collapsed and his heart stopped-he spent the next month and a half strolling through the Middle East; forty full days of handing back hope to women who d lost it, reminding men of the truth of Scripture, encouraging hundreds of friends that there was indeed more to this world than what they saw each day as the sun came up.
Yes, that was some living.
And those days on earth after his execution were apparently so full, so exciting and rich, that John says he couldn t record them all in his Gospel account (John 20:30-31). Maybe the Risen Christ drew pictures in the sand; maybe he sang hymns with his friends. Maybe he picked figs or went fishing or danced jigs. Whatever else he did in his resurrected life-apart from the stories we do have-history testifies to the reality that he gave us plenty to keep reveling in the wonders of living.
To keep planting bulbs and watching for petals.
That is what this book is about.
It is, you could say, a collection of impossible stories, of flowers that miraculously change. There are the stories, of course, from the Gospel narratives from which we might discover new truths about a Living Messiah perhaps we d never seen before, hoping to find some new beauty we might have missed for all their familiarity.
But you should know, too, that there are other stories in the chapters which follow, parables really that I hope will help cast a new light on the ancient ones. Many are drawn from recent history. But they are equally true stories and equally reflective of the magic-or miracle-of what happens in the garden of a human heart when the Person of God in Jesus appears. Perhaps such testimonies will serve as a sort of lens through which your perspective of the Gospel narratives is sharpened. Or perhaps it will be the other way around.
Either way, the characters and conflicts, deaths and lives that emerge in the many stories-both biblical and modern- that follow reveal both a history and a future. My hope is that as you read them, you will see the seeds of the living Word emerge, familiar and yet unknown, despairing and yet hopeful, sad and yet overflowing with joy. Because after Jesus died, he spent what I call very-much-alive-time with utterly desperate friends, so much time-enough time, that is-that the stories of their lives changed history. His death planted in them new life.
And what happened to them also happened to others, and others beyond them. It still does. Miracle stories indeed. Impossible new beginnings. Spring fragrances.
Bright daffodils that once were only hard dull bulbs. A desperate faith that blossoms into hope all because a Holy Presence dug through the soil to make a garden.
Finally, Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified. John 19:16
1 Desperate Truth
We really can t avoid it. We will get to the good news, I promise. But first we have to start at what many would call the end of the story. The execution. The funeral. The place and heartache of death.
It was a moment in history like many others: a seemingly innocent man was falsely accused, condemned in a mock trial, and sentenced to death for his radical claims and dangerous acts. He was tortured, whipped, and thrust naked upon a cross with stakes piercing his arms and feet, then left to suffer one of the most excruciating and inhumane forms of death penalty the world has ever known. Hundreds watched. Many ridiculed him.
The long, painful death wreaked havoc on his organs, his muscles, and his joints, adding unimaginable distress on his wrists and feet. The sky darkened and the agony accelerated. Eventually, his lungs couldn t hold up from the pressure and he took his final breath. His organs failed. His heart stopped. And when there was no life left in him-just to add a final misery-some thug grabbed a spear and pierced his ribs. Finally, the bloody and bruised corpse was removed from the tree and left in a tomb for later burial.
Jesus was dead.
I think of many leaders across the centuries who experienced similar treatment-being falsely accused and sentenced to die for statements they made or movements they led. I think of early Christians fed to the lions for sport, European Protestants or Catholics burned at the stake by monarchists, indigenous people slaughtered on every continent, abolitionists attacked in England and America, Jews gassed by Nazis, missionaries threatened in jungles, civil rights workers shot in America s southern states. The list is endless because an endless number of men and women have stepped forward in some of the ugliest and most perilous times in history to fight an injustice and instead lost their lives in gruesome executions. In place of respect, death became the penalty for what they believed. And many across today s globe still risk all they have for what they consider to be true.
It is not a happy ending for any story, as noble or honorable as it might be: death for a hero means he will never again see his family or friends on this earth. His