death

The Man on the Other Cross

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment

“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 

And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Luke 23:39-43, ESV

The pain was incredible, but I know that deep down I deserved to die. But not like this. Never like this. I was almost out of my mind with fear. What they were about to do to me was terrifying.

You must understand that I was just a common thief. I had stolen a loaf of bread when I was eight years old and that’s how it all got started for me. It more or else got bigger and easier. I knew how to steal and I was quite good at it. I was Jacob, the master thief!

When I was finally caught, they had sentenced me to die.

I supposed it was inevitable. I fault no one but myself, I knew what I was getting into. As I dragged my beam up to Golgotha, it was really strange but I suddenly remembered a verse from the scripture and it really did unsettle me.

“Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

It’s a terrible thing to die this way. There were three of us, nailed to the wood and lifted up between heaven and earth. Jesus was nailed to the middle cross, not that it really mattered; all three of us were going to die today. Many hope for a simple and easy death, maybe in their sleep–but that’s not going to happen to us.

The third man could only mock, he was afraid, and I suppose he just echoed those Pharisees who didn’t really understand. But I knew better. I knew who this other man was, I had heard all the stories. Deep down I knew that this man on the center cross was the Messiah.

A crowd had gathered to watch us die. The Romans in their wonderful ingenuity had made a sign that they nailed above Jesus’ head, and it declared to everyone that Jesus was “the king of the Jews.” Even as he was dying, they found a way to malign him and to stir-up the crowd.

The other man being crucified continued to mock Jesus, and it infuriated me.

Why I defended him I don’t know for sure.

But I understood. He was being murdered out of envy and jealousy. He didn’t deserve to die like this, but the powers that be hated him, and who can confront these religious men without becoming a victim. Jesus had repeatedly crossed the line, so now they were now putting him to death. It seemed evil was really winning today.

I saw the soldiers throwing dice for Jesus’ clothes. He was now being mocked by them as well, even as he was dying on a brutal cross.

But all of a sudden it all made perfect sense, he really was the Messiah, and these bastards were killing him. Crucifixion was starting to work on me now. I began to choke on my words, and it was getting hard to breathe.

“Jesus… please remember me. When your Kingdom comes, please let me be a part of it.”

And as beaten as he was, he managed to turn and look directly at me. They had whipped and brutalized him, and yet he was still aware. His words were whispered now, but I understood. “I promise that today you will be with me in paradise.”

I was starting to spasm again, but the horror of death had left me. Some time had passed, and I could hear his breathing stop. But for the first time, I had peace. They used a spear on Jesus, but he was already dead.

The soldiers now came to the two of us, and they were carrying an ax to break our legs. It all had to do with the coming festival, and the Pharisees wanted us dead. When they swung that ax I knew pain that I could never describe. My own death came quickly after that.

I was suddenly standing in paradise, whole and complete.

Someone was standing before me. He was shining I remember, and I knew he was powerful; stronger, and he was more glorious than anyone I had ever met. It was crazy but somehow I knew that he was an angel and he had been sent to meet me. It’s funny, but I realized that somehow I really did belong. Me–a dirty rotten thief.

Jesus had promised me, he had pronounced me righteous, me of all people.

I suddenly had a joy that I could never explain. I really was a part of the Kingdom that was beyond anything I had ever known. And all I can really say about this was that I was privileged to die with him. That is all I could claim. I simply believed him and asked if somehow I could be part of his eternal rule.

I simply asked and you know what, He gave me everything.

And so, I’ll see you in heaven.

Cover Art: “Christ on the Cross between Two Thieves,” by Peter Paul Rubens

Lazarus: In His Own Words

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John 11:33-44

When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”  

Jesus Raises Lazarus

38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 

 So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth.

Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

My name is Lazarus and I was a special “friend” of Jesus. We liked being with each other, and my sisters Mary and Martha also enjoyed fellowshipping with Him. Whenever He passed through Bethany, Jesus always had an open invitation to visit.

What’s it like to be dead? Many ask me this, and I suppose they want to understand, and I don’t blame them. To me, it seemed like a very deep sleep–but I didn’t dream. Those who look for any special insight, will not find it from me. And yet, I am His witness. He has incredible power over death.

I heard Him call my name.

It pierced through everything with an authority I’d never heard before. I had been laid in my tomb for 4 days and my physical body had begun to putrefy. When they rolled the stone away the terrible smell of death lay heavy in the air.

I was tightly bound in cotton wraps and sticky spices had been applied to my body. Mary and Martha had objected to Jesus’ attempt. As I looked back I realize that their actions were justified. After all, who can give life when one is very much dead. And not only dead but well on the way on to decay. The smell wafted from my tomb.

I had heard His shout, and it was then death was reversed.

My heart and brain began to work again. When I came to I found that I was lying on a stone table and tightly wrapped in the clothes of the dead. I managed to sit up, and I shuffled toward the light that had entered the tomb by the stone that covered the door.

When Jesus saw me I believe that He was laughing. He gave the command to the shocked bystanders, He commanded them to unwrap me. I suppose that then I realized I was now in the land of the living. I can’t explain what had happened, But my grave clothes were unwrapped.

There were many that day that became believers.

Many had attested that I was most certainly dead, after all, they had attended my funeral. Some had observed that I had been slathered in the sticky ointment–fragrant spices. And a few were witnesses to see the stone rolled in place.

There were some who simply didn’t (or wouldn’t) believe.

There were the Pharisees and the Sadducees who wanted me dead hoping to nullify my witness and my resurrection from the dead. I had become an embarrassment to them, a constant reminder that Jesus had defeated death.

Their hatred of Jesus’ ministry was only strengthened. My own resurrection proved His authority and power over even death. I was a walking and breathing miracle that they refused to accept. It got so bad that the religious leaders wanted to kill me because so many believed in my resurrection. I was a living witness to many.

Yes, I know that I’ll die again. But I’m not afraid anymore.

“He alone can believe in immortality who feels the resurrection in him already.“

Frederick W. Robertson

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Art: blogspot.com. Scripture: Christian Standard Bible, Holman Publishers; The Message, Eugene Peterson

Thinking Out Loud About Dying

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A dear Christian friend has built his own coffin. He now uses it as a coffee table in his living room until the day he dies. I’m told that Trappist monks next to their monastery an open grave, a constant reminder of the certainty of death. When they file past it, they understand that everyone must die.

Do you see death-smiling as a type of leer or as an evil grin upon the face of an enemy that is about to bring you pain? Or is the smile a gentle one that offers solace at a time when fear may be raging?  

“You sweep people away like dreams that disappear.
    They are like grass that springs up in the morning.
6 In the morning it blooms and flourishes,
    but by evening it is dry and withered.”

Psalm 90:4-6

In ancient Israel, Psalm 39 served as a “memento mori”—a reminder of human mortality. “Oh LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (v. 4). David understood that life is somewhat insignificant in the light of eternity.

Remember that you must die someday. 

“None of us can hold back our spirit from departing. None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death. There is no escaping that obligation, that dark battle.”

Ecclesiastes 8:7-8

Memento mori is a reminder of the inevitability of death. Jesus’s words, “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24).

As we adopt the reality of dying we must refuse the worldly ideas of death:

  • Our fear
  • Our doubts
  • Our frustration and cynicism
  • The loneliness
  • Satanic attack

“Let your hope of heaven master your fear of death.”

    William Gurnall

In the New Testament, Jesus exhorts his disciples to pick up their crosses daily and to remember their death as they follow him to the Place of the Skull: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23).

Remembering one’s death is an absolutely essential aspect of the Christian life, not only because it helps us to live well but also because it helps us to remember what Christ has done for us. 

As you integrate memento mori into your life, you will find more fruit in the practice if you are able to connect within the community of the Church who are on the same journey. Talk with family and close friends about your journey.

Knowing you’re going to die and face a certain judgement is a bit unnerving. It’s also a definite way of defeating sinful habits. When we understand this, much evil is now avoided and renounced. Yes, you’re barreling into a real encounter with God. That you can be sure.

Our judgement is very much real. But we have a perfect plea. Jesus has paid the price for us. It’s His blood that delivers us and fully redeems us. Standing (or kneeling) we realize the love and mercy He has for us. When we stand before God, we stand complete.

“Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”

  Helen Keller

There should be no fear of dying.

We’re fully and irrevocably forgiven. You can be sure of that. We can smile at death, knowing that it leads us into a perfect connection. Are you afraid? Yes, I understand. But know, if you’ve accepted Jesus as your Savior and Lord, the payment for all your sins, you’re forgiven.

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How to Die Well

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“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Psalm 23:4, ESV

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”

Psalm 116:15

“Death is like my car. It takes me where I want to go.” 

Pastor John Piper

Our generation simply doesn’t know how to die well.  There are many conflicting messages and attitudes which have steered us away from the reality of dying.  Much of it is the natural development of unbelief.  Our pop culture develops this and gives it momentum.  We are trying to convince ourselves that “death is impossible, my life will not end.”  But we’re escaping into a delusion. And it only intensifies as we age. 

We are running from what is real.

There is a Latin phrase,  Ars moriendi  (“The Art of Dying”) which the Church practiced in past generations.  In the past, Christians would be buried as close as possible to a Church building.  Many would be interred within the very walls of the Church.  The understanding was that the dead were part of the congregation.  That there was only a thin veil that stood between the living and the dead.  

The dead didn’t just vanish. They still live. We just don’t see them.

Our generation is confused.  We have forced death to wear a mask.  We insist on a significant camouflage to hide the reality of sickness and death.  No one really ever talks about it, and so no instructions are given on how to die well. So we don’t, and we die poorly–often in ICUs. We die sedated, separated and unable to process dying. We never help our families process it. 

For many, the fear of dying is intense and paralyzing.  

It’s time for the Church to step up and guide us to our next step.  Our pastors and elders have got to prepare us to die well.  It is a part of being a disciple.  It is discipleship, and dying is inclusive.  We need somebody to prepare us for the inevitable and the certainty that is approaching us.  I need someone that will help me face my own death.

You know what?  No one escapes.  

And the reality of that drives some of us mad, or addicted, or psychotic.  The idea of filling a casket up for forever is incomprehensible.  We cannot live with this sick idea of dying.  It disturbs us on the deepest level possible.  It is completely evil.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death.  This verse alone is worth billions of dollars in gold.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death. Psalm 23 has made me a very wealthy man.  His Word has become my rich treasure.

“Some day you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody of East Northfield, is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it! At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now; I shall have gone up higher, that is all, out of this old clay tenement into a house that is immortal- a body that death cannot touch, that sin cannot taint; a body fashioned like unto His glorious body.”

    D.L. Moody

Jesus Writes in the Dust

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John 8:3-11

3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.

Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.

I remember how Jesus defended me from the religious men. I had been publically led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me. Definitely not for me.

The religious police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the leering looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary. I saw a firm mercy.

I’m ashamed, but I had committed adultery. I slept with a man who wasn’t my husband.

I was to be stoned, to know hard rocks thrown by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew exactly how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man I slept with was never charged; he escaped, and I would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.

My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that. Jesus had been accepted by some to be the Messiah and by others not so much. I wasn’t sure one way or another. I was in a daze, not able to even try to defend myself.

They only put me front and center to test Him. These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They tried to trap him.

Jesus realized the ugly implications of this satanic effort against Him.

Only Rome had the power of execution, and the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?

It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He looked right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.

Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.

I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something about the sin of the men who were accusing me. At that moment, they dropped the case against me and left. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.

Jesus looked directly at me. I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I half expected the worst.

Yes, he did confront me. He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.

“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”

That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. My new freedom came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.

At that moment I understood everything completely.

The Thief on the Cross Speaks

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Luke 23:39-43

“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 

42 “And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

The pain was incredible, but I know that deep down I deserved to die. But not like this. Never like this. I was almost out of my mind with fear. What they were doing to me was terrifying.

You must understand that I was a common thief. I had stolen a loaf of bread when I was eight years old and that’s how it all got started for me. It more or else got bigger and easier. I knew how to steal and I was quite good at it. I was Jacob, the master thief!

When I was finally caught, they sentenced me to die. I supposed it was inevitable. I fault no one but myself as I knew what I was getting into. As I dragged my beam up to Golgotha, it was really strange but I suddenly remembered a verse from the scripture and it really did unsettle me.

“Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

(Gal. 3:13, ESV)

It’s a terrible thing to die this way. There were three of us, nailed to the wood and lifted up between heaven and earth. Jesus was nailed to the middle cross, not that it really mattered; all three of us were going to die today.

Many hope for an easy death, maybe in their sleep–but that’s not going to happen to us.

The third man could only mock, he was afraid, and I suppose he just echoed those Pharisees who didn’t really understand. But I knew better. I knew who this other man was, I had heard all the stories. Deep down I knew that this man on the center cross was the Messiah.

A crowd had gathered to watch us die. The Romans in their wonderful ingenuity had made a sign that they nailed above Jesus’ head, and it declared to everyone that Jesus was “the king of the Jews.” Even as he was dying, they found a way to malign him and irritate the crowd.

The other man being crucified continued to mock Jesus, and it infuriated me.

Why I defended him I don’t know for sure.

But I understood. Jesus was murdered out of the envy and jealousy of the Pharisees. He didn’t deserve to die like this, but He was hated, and who can confront these religious men without becoming a victim. Jesus had repeatedly crossed the line, so now they were now putting him to death. It seemed evil was really winning today.

I saw the soldiers throwing dice for Jesus’ clothes. He was now being mocked by them as well, even as He was dying on a brutal cross.

But all of a sudden it all made perfect sense.

He really was the Messiah, and these bastards were killing him. Crucifixion was starting to work on me now. I began to choke on my words, and it was getting hard to breathe.

“Jesus… please remember me. When your kingdom comes, please let me be a part of it.”

And as beaten as He was, He managed to turn and look directly at me. They had whipped and brutalized Him, and yet He was still aware. His words were whispered now, but I understood. “I promise that today you will be with me in paradise.”

I was starting to spasm again.

But the horror of death had left me. Some time had passed, and I could hear his breathing stop. But for the first time, I had peace. They used a spear on Jesus, but he was already dead.

The soldiers now came to the two of us, and they were carrying an ax to break our legs. It all had to do with the coming festival, and the Pharisees wanted us dead. When they swung that ax I knew a pain that I could never describe. My own death came quickly after that.

I was suddenly standing in paradise, whole and complete, and loved.

Someone was standing before me. He was shining, and I knew he was powerful; stronger, and He was more glorious than anyone I had ever met. It was crazy but somehow I knew that it was the Lord Jesus. He had come to meet me. It’s funny, but I realized that somehow I really did belong. Me–a dirty rotten thief.

Jesus had promised me, pronouncing me righteous, me of all people. I suddenly had a joy that I could never explain. I really was a part of the Kingdom that was beyond anything I had ever known. I believed him and asked if somehow I could be part of his eternal rule.

I simply asked and He gave me everything.

“I am going to heaven just like the thief on the cross who said in that final last moment: “Lord remember me.”

Billy Graham

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Cover Art: “Christ on the Cross between Two Thieves,” by Peter Paul Rubens

Finding the Light

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“Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death, so that we would not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead.”

2 Corinthians 1:9

To be chronically ill often means living with awful frustration. We can’t do what we want, we are ‘trapped’ by a disease we never asked for, and we’re held hostage by our minds and bodies. We once had a job– a career… and our time was occupied by that. Suddenly our lives are turned upside down.

We wanted something else, anything more than being very sick.

I once was a pastor of a small church here in Alaska. I also taught Gospels, several years in a local Bible Institute. I loved ministry very much. They defined my identity and gave me purpose. I enjoyed helping people and teaching the Word. I endeavored to be faithful in the ministry. And I hope I did.

With the sudden onset of a brain tumor, followed up by a diagnosis of severe depression, my life more or less exploded. I had extensive memory loss. I knew I had to step out of the ministry. I simply could not function. It was a hard thing to leave it behind. (And I still miss it.)

My depression grew even more profound with the stillborn death of our third child just 3 days before her delivery. Things suddenly ground to a standstill as my wife and I tried to process all of this. I guess I just couldn’t understand and more or less just shut down. I was angry at God. I spent months in bed, unable to function.

Some people were true jewels.

Others were more or less mean and uncaring. (I quickly learned how to take the good with the bad.) I suppose I should have understood, but things were so tangled up inside me that I couldn’t verbalize a thing. But God knew all about me. He loved and never judged.

The post-op recovery following the tumor was an ordeal, as I had to learn many things all over again. A few years later I ended up on disability; I was unable to work, and my symptoms were so unpredictable. I dealt with profound depression and a solid dose of paranoia and fear.

I learned that meds can help, but they can’t fix the problem.

Sometimes the isolation seemed worse than the pain. We wonder why this is happening to us, and we hear lies about our worthiness or God’s goodness. Our value to others seems to be scuttled by our illness. We can feel cursed, forgotten, crippled by God, or even worse. (Maybe even irrevocably lost?)

Satan craves our spiritual destruction, and he snares unsteady souls.

I admit I have been slow to learn this– but God brings good things out of the dark. I’m embarrassed by my personal lack of acquiring all of this. Now I’m starting to learn finally, and I want His words to reflect these truths.

“We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.”

2 Corinthians 4:7

This light will shine, and the treasure is found in clay vessels. Brokenness only means the treasure is now seen clearly. It’s important to note–jewels lose none of their value by being surrounded by broken clay. Our weaknesses are being turned into goodness, understanding, and love for our brothers and sisters.

Troubles of many varieties will pay us a visit. Count on it.

No matter what their nature, God holds his people in place while everything else is falling apart. But for the broken believer, there is another dimension; we will finally triumph. The tragedies we’ve had to endure only supplement our faith. We will stand– because He makes us stand.

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.”

2 Corinthians 4:8-9

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Was Judas Forgiven?

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“And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Luke 23:34

From the cross Jesus spoke this. He was being executed in an extreme way, crucifixion was a terrible way to die. Roman soldiers surrounded the cross, and yet Jesus asked the Father to forgive them. They would not be guilty, but forgiven for what they were doing to Him.

But what about Judas?

How broad was Jesus’ statement? Did Jesus grant Judas absolution from this sin of betrayal when He said this? There’s far too many questions, and it’s good to think these things through. Was there forgiveness for this man of treachery?

“Then Satan entered into Judas called Iscariot, who was of the number of the twelve.” (Luke 22:3, ESV.) Perhaps this verse should become our entry point. It’s apparent that Judas was being controlled by the evil one. Something (or someone) took possession of him at this point. It seems astonishing that this happened at the special moment of the Lord’s Supper.

At this point Judas sought out the chief priests.

Judas offered to turn Jesus in, and it seems that money was given, perhaps to encourage Judas to commit himself to follow through. We read that Jesus was “troubled in His spirit.” It seems that this had to do with the impending betrayal.

So what was the early Judas like? Was he an authentic disciple? It seems he was called like the others. He listened to Jesus’ teaching and saw most of the miracles. Later he was sent out to proclaim the “good news.” Apparently, he teamed up with another disciple, miracles were seen.

“Judas heard all of Christ’s sermons.”

Thomas Goodwin

I can’t verify this yet, but each of the 12 called Jesus “Lord,” but only Judas called Jesus “rabbi.” Perhaps this points to a problem Judas has identifying the ministry of Jesus. There would be a kiss commonly given by a disciple, but was it real?

Judas seemed to have problems with money. Apparently Jesus decided that he was to be the treasurer of His followers. This was a problem for Judas. It’s clear that he stole money from that was entrusted to Jesus’ ministry.

Yet I believe Judas would be forgiven of these things if he only asked.

There are a few other things we really must consider. Did Jesus forgive Judas? The Romans and the Jewish leaders were forgiven by Jesus from the cross. But there was never any indication that Judas was forgiven for his betrayal. It seems that Judas carried his sin which ended up in suicide.

Both Peter and Judas betrayed their Lord.

And yet I have to believe that they were not the same. Somehow Peter’s denial would find a way to be forgiven. And even though it seems very painful, Peter would be restored. But Judas took his own life. It was his choice. Simon Peter felt remorse. Judas was overcome with guilt and chose death instead of seeking forgiveness.

I’m completely convinced that we will not see Judas in heaven.

I say that cautiously. I hardly ever understand the mind and heart of God. His compassion is everlasting. Who am I to decide these things? But it seems to me that when he sold Jesus for 30 pieces of silver, he was really selling himself.

“While I was with them, I kept them in your name, which you have given me. I have guarded them, and not one of them has been lost except the son of destruction, that the Scripture might be fulfilled.”

John 17:12

This verse seems to clarify much about Judas. We understand Jesus’ care and love for each of His disciples; yet we see a pronouncement of judgement against the person who would betray Him. It seems that Judas convinced himself that he could not be forgiven. His awful suicide declared he was beyond grace. Judas decided he would hang himself, committing himself to the rope rather than accepting any kind of forgiveness.

Sobering, isn’t it?

“Judas Iscariot was not a greatly wicked person, just a common money-lover, and like most money-lovers, he did not understand Christ.”

A.W. Tozer

Rooted Firmly and Deeply

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment

“But I am like a green olive tree
    in the house of God.
I trust in the steadfast love of God
    forever and ever.”

Psalm 52:8

In Psalm 52 we read of David’s run-in with Doeg, a very bad man, (a mass murderer actually). But David, hearing about the slaughter of 85 innocent priests doesn’t respond in hatred, rather he sits down and writes this song of contemplation which we know as Psalm 52.

It isn’t something written out of wrath and vengeance rather the word that begins his writing is “maskil” which implies– enlightenment, or something reflective, thoughtful, discerning. He sat down and considered Doeg’s awful evil, and by doing this was able to understand own heart as well.

Psalm 52 has two distinct parts.

The first is Doeg’s vicious atrocity, and the condemnation that it incurs, (v.v. 1-7). The second was David’s own commitment to following God, and understanding his own place in a very evil world, (v.v. 8-9).

Rather than castigate himself for being discovered in Nob–a circumstance which directly led to the mass murder of these priests (and their families). We find that David does not blame himself. He could have, but he didn’t. Rather he thoughtfully, and carefully, detailed his own “observations” of the whole sordid matter.

David could easily have destroyed himself with guilt and grief. He didn’t.

He chose not to play the losing game of ‘what if.’ He instead would be like a green olive tree rooted himself in the holy temple and into the protective presence of God. David knew he would destroy himself if he didn’t place himself there. It was a deliberate decision.

It would keep himself sane.

It seems to me that trees work heavily into David’s own theology and that this is how he sees his relationship with God. He’s planted and therefore able to survive terrible trials. He shows us how to survive and thrive.

His roots would need to go very deep though.

David’s thoughtful imagery is himself as an olive tree planted in God’s presence.

I believe knowing this is the antidote to the poison of guilt. Perhaps we should follow his example?


“They are like trees planted along a riverbank,
    with roots that reach deep into the water.
Such trees are not bothered by the heat
    or worried by long months of drought.
Their leaves stay green,
    and they never stop producing fruit.”

Jeremiah 17:8

She Was the First!

/ Bryan Lowe / Leave a comment

“Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 

“Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic,“Rabboni!” (which means Teacher).”

John 20:14-15

Mary Magdalene would’ve been the last one I would have chosen to be the first witness. If it was me, I would have gone straight to Caiaphas, or gave Pilate a good scare–“I told you so.” He didn’t go to the Temple and to show off his resurrection power. He zapped no one.

It fascinates me, but Jesus didn’t show off his power. Instead Mary was chosen, the harlot, and the one who he cast out seven demons. Simple, humble Mary. The one whom he forgave. And he comes quietly, and gently to her.

He’s alive!

Brutally killed, taken off the cross and carefully laid in a tomb–but Jesus comes to life!

The most powerful testimony of truth of the Gospel rests here in the resurrection. Our faith hinges on this. If there is no resurrection, Jesus’ bones still lay in a tomb, and we are still dead in our sins. (1 Corinthians 15:17)

There is so much in this passage; the implications are enormous.

“What the world calls virtue is a name and a dream without Christ. The foundation of all human excellence must be laid deep in the blood of the Redeemer’s cross and in the power of his resurrection.”

     Frederick W. Robertson