There’s something kind of providential about lecturing on Sabbath the day after Labor Day. Today I’ll be discussing with my students the Sabbath and the rhythms of creation. I do this one day after reading a psychologist explain that Sunday… Read More
I’m in my study this morning, putting away my Bible and my notes, about to drive to the church to worship with God’s people and then to preach the gospel. There will be, as we all know, lots of people… Read More
Don’t get me wrong, the call to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ is a joy. Yesterday I pronounced a godly young couple husband and wife. This morning I baptized a brother in Christ. Nothing is more thrilling than opening… Read More
Easter is about graves. It is about an empty grave in the Middle East. But it is also about the full graves around us, as the creation groans for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. And it is about the soon-to-be-filled graves, graves that wait for each of us should the Day of Christ be delayed as it has now for millennia.
As Holy Week comes to a close, I’m trying to discipline myself to hope and to grieve in a tension fitting for the time-between-the-times. For me, the abstract concept of death is not nearly as weighty as the particular remembrance of particular persons, persons I love, who wait for the sound of the Trumpet.
Below is a eulogy I delivered for my grandfather, on January 25, 2003, at his church, the First Baptist Church of Gulfport, Mississippi. I happened upon it today as I was clearing out some files on my computer. Thinking about him reminded me of the stingless power of the Grim Reaper, and of the awesome wonder of the triumphant Son. Perhaps it will spur you to think of the dead in Christ. I hope that, this week especially, we will miss them more, and pray even harder to the Lord of the Resurrection that they will be with us, and we with Him, soon.