The Sacrificial Lamb

A commonly talked about figure in Christianity, but an amazingly unknown one. Maybe because we don’t use terms like that today. When we think sacrifice we think of being inconvenienced or having to stretch ourselves. In a world where hyperbole reigns supreme such as, “that was awesome”, “I almost died” and “I’m starving”, sacrificial gets thrown in the pot and we lose our central Christian figure amongst a Jesus fish car emblem and the church program with coffee stains on it from last week.

Who is this sacrificial lamb? Or I guess to go back even further and have an even better understanding, “what is a sacrificial lamb?”

In the Old Testament, the scriptures talk about atoning for sins. Making things right with God. There are several types of offerings for different things. But one that is very crucial to understanding why Jesus came and what that should mean to us is the sin offering. An innocent lamb is tied to the brazen alter and sacrificed. What happens here is a beautifully mystical thing where our sin is taken on by this lamb and we take on his innocence. Additionally there is the presence of the goat…or the scapegoat. The scapegoat is released into the wilderness as a symbol of carrying away our sins.

Now, I know this is heavy. Maybe even a little disturbing if you don’t understand. You may be asking, “Why would God do that to that poor animal?” or “Why would God have US do that to that poor animal?” It requires a mind of the spirit to understand…so if this idea is escaping you right now, first ask for God to open your heart and mind and spirit to the words you are reading and about to read.

This sacrifice was a foreshadowing of what was to come. In their own right, people of the Old Testament could never keep up with atoning for their sin in this fashion. It was never going to be enough.

Enter Jesus…

HE became the sacrificial lamb. A once and for all offering whom took on our sin and transferred his innocence onto us. And he was also the scapegoat to carry our sins away.

Isaiah 53:4-7
4 Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
5 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.
6 All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
7 He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he opened not his mouth;
like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,
so he opened not his mouth.

But it was not for nothing:

Isaiah 53:10-12
10 But it was the Lord’s good plan to bruise him and fill him with grief. However, when his soul has been made an offering for sin, then he shall have a multitude of children, many heirs. He shall live again,[b] and God’s program shall prosper in his hands. 11 And when he sees all that is accomplished by the anguish of his soul, he shall be satisfied; and because of what he has experienced, my righteous Servant shall make many to be counted righteous before God, for he shall bear all their sins. 12 Therefore, I will give him the honors of one who is mighty and great because he has poured out his soul unto death. He was counted as a sinner, and he bore the sins of many, and he pled with God for sinners.

Let us dwell on that today. No greater love has any man than to lay down his life for his friends!

Jeff & Mary

I’d like to write a post about two people I know. Jeff and Mary. Jeff and Mary were two older homeless people that I often passed on the way to work at the shelter. They were not residents at the shelter, but friends of the shelter. I pass quite a few homeless people on my short trek to work. I say, at least three times a morning, “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money.” But Jeff and Mary RARELY asked me for money. What I DID normally hear from them was, “hey, how you doing?”. I would say “good” or “fine” or whatever and smile. Then Jeff would usually say, “hey, God bless you” when I walked away. He would be sitting there looking down and once he saw me he’s smile…even with his eyes and say Hi. I remember stopping one day and offering them money because they almost never asked. Seemed to make me want to help them even more…even though I have very little money myself. The other day I saw Jeff sitting on the sidewalk alone and I asked him where Mary was. He said that she was in the hospital with some complications…she was having trouble breathing. They won’t let me stay with her. I said I was so sorry and offered prayer for her. He gave me his usual “God bless you” and I went on to work. A few days later I saw him again and asked him, “So, how is Mary?” and he told me she died. I was floored. When we talked about her before he said she was stable and was going alright. I didn’t know what to say. He told me they had been together for 8 years. Mary was his best friend. This weighed really heavily on me all day and the next. A few days later I learned that she died on a park bench…not even with Jeff. This is the plight of the chronically homeless. In this moment does it matter why they are homeless? Does it matter if she drank or is he does drugs? Or if they were lazy? Could he possibly be a disabled veteran who never got back on his feet? Could she have suffered from horrible mental issues? Jeff and Mary… these are the faces and names of the faceless and nameless homeless people we pass on our streets. They all have stories…like us. They all have struggles…like us. They all have needs…like us. Like I would be, like you would be, Jeff is hurting…lonely. The streets probably seem colder, meaner, sadder for him now. I wish Mary had died in a warm bed in the hospital. The greatest sadness for the chronically homeless isn’t their housing…it’s their loneliness. Could you imagine being tormented by voices AND alone, ignored, ridiculed, laughed at and mistreated. Or so wrapped up in your drug habit that you are digging through the trash because you spent you last dime on that next hit…the drug owns you and you must serve this ruthless master even to your own detriment. To be digging through the trash, knowing that passersby are staring and grimacing. To know you wreak of urine and B.O and carry bed bugs…who would want to touch you nevermind give you a hug? You are alone. Sometimes acting a fool in public and having others stare at you and yell at you is the only way to remember you still exist. Homelessness is all of our problem. Being sentenced to loneliness with no chance of parole seems unbearable. I wish Mary had died in a hospital bed with Jeff by her side. That’s how they lived…by one another’s side. People like Jeff and Mary make me a better person because they test my love for humanity. They make me face myself when I would rather not smell them or give them my time. When my perfumed wrists and lotioned legs want to pass by them…I see their faces and God is there. Blessed are the poor. They make me remember that nothing I’m doing is more important than them knowing I see them. They are not invisible. The streets seem colder, meaner and sadder now that my friends are not sitting there. May we learn to hear the single heartbeat that resounds from the heart of God and travels through us all. May we comfort those who mourn with the comfort that is given to us by the Holy Spirit himself.

Christian Buddhist Hippie Jew….riiiiiight.

As you all will soon learn about me, I am all over the place sometimes. But it is a wonderfully organized mess of chaos. beauty and absolute order…if that makes any sense. As they say, there’s a method to my madness. But right now I’m feeling the itch to rid myself of the method. *gasp*, oh no….what would be left. Only madness right? No no no…calm down. I will replace the method with authenticity.

See, I’ve been feeling a sense of apathy regarding my relationship with Christ. It’s been like a marriage gone dry. An obligation to a covenant that has lost its pizazz. Rote…routine…methodical…insincere. Not on purpose mind you, just by habit. I could be worshipping God and almost fall asleep because my mind is not there. In a moment’s notice I can be standing with hands lifted in worship focused on the goodness of God, and then be completely engulfed in the lady’s hair two rows up from me at church and how her roots were way past needing a touch up. After a few minutes of my mind falling down the rabbit hole of anything-other-than-worship I realize that I’m not worshipping and I should pay attention…so I snap back to reality and jump into the intense bridge to my favorite worship song…whatever it’s called. But it doesn’t take long before I’m off and running again on to some other tangent. Sometimes those tangents are all that get me through a church service or personal time or worship and prayer. How horrible is that? I’m a veteran Christian! 14 years in the fold! I should be able to worship with my eyes closed…lol…I made a funny. Did you see what I did there? With my eyes closed? You know cause you close your eyes when you wor… eh, nevermind.

ahem…Movin on…

I mean, not only have I been a Christian for 14 years, I have a BS degree in Biblical Studies. I should be glowing right? lol. *sigh*. Then I realized that it wasn’t my faith or my love for Jesus that was dull…it was my method. Yes, I had a method. You have a method. It’s how we operate. We are creatures of habit and routine and sometimes you just gotta change it up. SO I decided to remove the method. And here’s how.

I’m in the process now of figuring out how to make my relationship with Christ the most organic and genuine version of itself that it can be. I’m very interested in incorporating a few things that I enjoy and making them a part of my walk with Jesus. Although I am a Christian, I like a lot of the Indian culture –  the architecture and décor. I also really like the idea of meditation and peacefulness found in the Buddhist practices. In addition to that I’m also interested in some of the practices of the Messianic Jews. SO, I think I’m going to start doing a lot of study and when I come up for air, have a much more organic view of how to walk out my faith. I can be a Christian who listens to Indian inspired Christian music and meditates on the Word of God while seeking His peace in a state of Zen on the high holy days…right

I want to remove the “methods” that I have learned about how to worship, how to pray, and how to view holidays and the Sabbath and spiritual disciplines, and see what Jesus and I can create on our own. To see what will happen when I only allow myself to meditate when I pray. Not ask for anything or whine about my problems. Just focus on a word from scripture or an image. To learn to sit in silence.  To see what happens when I really give true meaning to the Sabbath and observe it like the Jews do. To sing songs of worship to Jesus in Hindi, forcing me to actively participate in the song and not go numb to familiar choruses that I can sing in my sleep. Maybe to even experience praying five times a day like Muslims…having to be conscious and wake up some days at sunrise to pray and then drop whatever I’m doing at noon, afternoon, sunset and evening to talk to Jesus….rotating my practices as the Spirit of God leads. I am excited to see where this goes when religion is cast to the wind and relationship with Jesus is paramount.

To Be Continued…