Seven Days and Seven Sayings that Changed the Universe

It is Easter Sunday. Today I am briefly back at the hospital where I spent 12 very meaningful, transformative years as a full-time chaplain listening to the needs of patients and their families. Now "semi-retired," I am just filling in for a chaplain friend. It is good to be back where I found so much life and hope among the sick and dying.

The phone rings as I walk in the door. A nurse says a patient is requesting "to receive communion." Thinking of the thin wafers that we offer to patients and their families, I head out the door, pondering: What does it mean to truly commune with the Resurrected Lord?

Personally, communion is about so much more than accepting a wafer into my mouth. It is about savoring the thoughts and words of Jesus, partaking of all the nuances of His abundant grace, not just at Christmas and Easter, but daily. Since retiring, I am privileged to spend more time leisurely and intentionally exploring the multifaceted expressions of God's favor toward me. The result is a new book - and a "refreshed" me. Here is a small excerpt from the first chapter of When Words Become Life: Seven Days and Seven Sayings that Changed the Universe.

A Lamb for All People

For several decades, I was immersed in the language and culture of the Japanese people. Gradually I learned to read, write and appreciate thousands of Chinese characters, used daily by the Japanese with multiple nuances and pronunciations. I found that each brush or pen stroke conveys meaning and purpose that might escape our understanding if we speed read through life.

For me, language study became much like herding willful critters. Hard work! Taxing of my patience. Yet, the prize in the flock appeared, leaping through antiquity to touch and transform my understanding of the Sacred. I saw the Lamb of God alongside me.

Even while Abraham was on Mount Moriah with his son Isaac, Chinese patriarchs were developing ways to communicate the lessons of their own lives for future generations. Embedded in their ideographs and pictographs are hints of a Creator who transcends cultures, entering the human journey in diverse ways.

For example, if I was an ancient Chinese patriarch, this is what I might look like: 我. I learned that the ideograph for “I” or “self” contains two parts. On the left is a hand, on the right is a blade. In essence, I am a knife-holding entity. Is “I” a murderer? Is “I” a killer? No matter how this picture is interpreted, it is a somber snapshot of “me.”

Now here is the precious truth: A lamb covers me. Here is a drawing of a lamb with its face turned toward me: 羊 (Notice the ears on top of the stylized face: are they tuned to my needs?). Long ago calligraphers joined the lamb to my knife-wielding self, creating a new picture of me. Alone I am just a hand with a knife. But, when the pictograph of “me” is positioned beneath that of the lamb, my identity is radically changed. No longer am I standing apart, knife in hand. Rather, when I am joined with the lamb, with him over me, I am now regarded as “righteous, holy, pure.” 

義 = “righteous”

When I was about five years old I began to feel a tugging at my heart. Would God want me to be a preacher like my grandfather and great-grandfather? It was fun to pretend that I could be like them. One of my earliest memories of playtime is standing at a swivel piano bench, “preaching the Word” to teddy bears and other stuffed creatures. But, as I matured, I felt more and more incapable of responding to what felt contrary to my growing self-awareness. My nature conspired against me. My hot temper, my slow thinking, the shallowness of my experience – all led me to believe that God should bypass me. I could not imagine occupying a pulpit or a classroom, believing that I would run dry of content in five minutes. No way could I spend a lifetime talking about God!

Thus, I pursued a different calling, seeking to become a writer. College coursework helped polish my skills, but failed to assuage my feeling that I must find something more than a skill-set. Then one day, a kind professor suggested that I take time off from studies for a while to prayerfully discern my future. He got me connected with an English Language Institute in Korea where I taught English and Bible classes for several years. As I became immersed in the Bible and in the lives of students, God spoke to my heart, convicting me of His all-sufficiency in place of my inadequacies. No longer could I run. His word became life to me.

Not Just for Spiritual Cadavers

No words of Jesus could mean more to me than the assurances that He gives on Mount Calvary. From start to finish, Jesus’ seven sayings on the cross provide everlasting sustenance for living free from personal anxiety. Like light shining into the void on the first day of creation, Jesus’ forgiveness erases my internal darkness. This is especially so when I contemplate how fully dependent I am upon Him for everything. This awareness is a journey toward humility. 

Jesus’ very first statement on Calvary, “They know not what they do,” may refer to walking carcasses in a spiritual cemetery. But, I believe it has an overlooked, deeper meaning. While it may be about those who have dulled their senses with the drugs of arrogance and apathy, I have learned that it is about much more than religious and spiritual zombies. When we understand more fully this saying of Jesus, the nails are placed in the coffin containing the belief system that says we can save ourselves.

Want deeper understanding of the last words of Jesus? Christ's seven last sayings at Calvary intersect with the Genesis account of the seven days of creation and show us the pathway to renewal. Click here to obtain your personal copy of my latest experience of God's grace: When Words Become Life: Seven Days and Seven Sayings that Changed the Universe.