Good morning church family,
Springtime seems to provide a ready illustration for the message of the Easter season. Bulbs long buried in frozen earth miraculously come to life as the ground thaws under a warming sun. Barren tree branches which rattled like dry bones in winter’s withering wind, are now budding with the promise of greens; pastel and verdant. The sun, which for months seemed unwilling to rise much above the horizon, is now soaring overhead with a light sufficient to lengthen the day. And so on and so on. I think you get the idea.
But despite all the easy associations made between springtime and salvation, the change in seasons is actually ill-suited to illustrate the redemption of mankind and can actually harm the presentation of the gospel. Think of it – that garden plot in your backyard never wanted to stop producing last fall. Whose fault was it that its offerings moldered and yellowed in the dim light and dampening coolness of autumn? The plot certainly wasn’t to blame, for its soil was every bit as rich frozen as it was warm. Nor can you blame the seed, the spade, or the gardener; for they all remained willing and able. No, perform an autopsy on your garden and you’ll soon determine that the cause of death was entirely environmental. The sun simply lost its strength, the wind turned bitter, and the mercury dropped. Ice soon came to officiate at the funeral; burying the bereaved garden under a blanket of snow. There was simply nothing your garden could do about it. It just lay there all winter, dead and gone.
But then comes spring and that plot, which was presumed dead, miraculously returns to life. What happened? Did the garden confess its sin and find repentance? Did it purpose in its heart to no longer give life to the weeds that had been allowed to grow along its rows? Did it pledge to support the growing of all good things; welcoming fruitful roots into the heart of the plot? Or was there just a change in seasons? Isn’t the springtime salvation of our gardens an entirely environmental phenomenon? Wasn’t the garden a passive participant in both its death and its resurrection?
It’s the world that wants to take the story of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus and reduce it to a tulip’s rise out of the muddy earth. It’s the world that wants to ignore the problem of sin and the threat of hell to focus instead on the promise of a universal newness of life. The world can’t conceive of a Savior who would beg forgiveness for those endeavoring to murder Him. Pagans don’t find strength in a Savior’s surrender to death nor do they understand the existence of a love powerful enough to upend the grave. They hardly even see the need for such a Savior. No, the world is much more comfortable imagining salvation to be an entirely benign and natural process.
Heinrich Heine, the famous nineteenth century poet and essayist, declared on his deathbed what an alarming number of people believe throughout their lives; that, “God will forgive me. It’s His job.” I’ve ministered to hundreds of grieving families who find a drunken comfort in this kind of thinking as they gather to lay their loved one to rest. I’ve lost count of the number of people who’ve waved off my offer of the Gospel in those moments; deciding instead to cling to some saccharine pap written in flowery italics on the back of the parlor’s memorial card. “Just as winter can’t last forever because the sun is sure to shine;” they say in not so many words, “I know my loved one will be in Heaven. I just know it.”
What a deadly assumption. I know that none of you would allow someone to jump from a burning plane with only an umbrella to unfold. “Hold on,” you’d surely say, “you don’t think that umbrella will carry you safely to the ground, do you? I don’t care what you may have seen Mary Poppins do – trust me, that parasol’s a death sentence. Here,” you’d say with earnest desperation in your eyes, “take this parachute instead. Please!”
We should have a similar response whenever we hear anyone going on about how, in the end, life will surely overcome death as springtime invariably overcomes winter. We should arrest anyone striking out onto that broad way which doesn’t lead to life but instead to eternal destruction. “Hold on,” we must say in those moments, “you don’t think there’s salvation down that wide and yawning way, do you? Here,” we must offer in genuine earnestness, “take Jesus Christ instead. Please!”
It will be so good to gather together tomorrow morning – for the gloominess of Friday night will be gone and the sad longing of Saturday will have passed; with hope and joy rising to take their place! We’ve run to the tomb to see the good news for ourselves and now we run from there to tell it to the world. He lives! May the Lord, mighty God, bless and continue to keep us!
- Pastor Tate
