Acts 1:3 - After his death, he presented himself alive to them in many different settings over a period of forty days. In face-to-face meetings, he talked to them about things concerning the kingdom of God.
I have to admit that talking about someone dying, coming to life again, then appearing and talking to their loved ones is a very big pill to swallow. As I sat on the back porch thinking about what could even come close to this event recorded in the scriptures, I thought about one of my friends I used to work with.
She was a severe meth-addict. She didn't realize how deep she was in the stuff until several hospital trips helped her hit a bottom that was seemingly non-existent. My heart went out to her as she struggled day in and day out. I would pick her up for work in the mornings, only to find that she was still strung out from the day before. So, I'd go bang on her apartment door, yelling at her that it was time to go to work. While opening the restaurant, she'd turn up System of a Down to the point it made our ears bleed.
Her arms and legs were sprinkled with red sores from the lack of nutrients, and I literally thought I was going to see my friend die one day, right before my eyes. I had to give up on her. I couldn't bear the weight of her addiction, as I could barely stand the weight of my own. She was insane in the way that only an addict could understand, and her agnosticism told her that she would eventually get herself out of the mess.
When she lost her job at the restaurant, things went downhill fast. She moved away to go on her last binge, staring death in the face through overdoses and hospital trips. Before she left, she gave me a gift one morning. She'd promised me that she was done with meth. I'd heard and said that one before, but nevertheless, she handed me a cylinder glass container. It still sits on my dresser at home.
Inside the jar contained all the meth pipes she owned - crushed and covered in wax. While it was a good gesture, and it meant alot, I knew that she wasn't ready to quit.
It wasn't until several months later that I ran into her at the club I attended meetings at. She - who was once a sore-ridden, scrawny, rail of a girl - had put on some weight and was walking out of a CMA meeting! She'd gotten a sponsor and was working the steps. I couldn't believe I was seeing the same person.
She's now been sober for 18 months, and she has a child on the way. She's starting a family, and she believes in God. She's been raised from the dead, and I talk to her every so often about life.
I'm convinced that as of right now, the only "proof" I have of a crucified Christ is seeing the sores on the meth-addicts arms and legs. The only "proof" I have of a resurrected Christ is seeing the once hopeless alcoholic find a way of life that puts God in control and not self. So often, I spend so much time trying to wrap my mind around the unfathomable, while missing the significant stories of death and resurrection happening all around me.
While I can't prove that Jesus appeared after death to his apostles, I can hold the steady hand of an alcoholic who once suffered DTs. I can look into the eyes of a recovered meth addict and, where once only darkness resided, see new life. It's a hard thing to come by trying to prove matters that only faith can handle, but to touch, see, and hear new life in the form of once hopeless human beings is something I can accept as true.
God, we ask you to heighten our senses today so that we can take part in the resurrection happening around us.
I have to admit that talking about someone dying, coming to life again, then appearing and talking to their loved ones is a very big pill to swallow. As I sat on the back porch thinking about what could even come close to this event recorded in the scriptures, I thought about one of my friends I used to work with.
She was a severe meth-addict. She didn't realize how deep she was in the stuff until several hospital trips helped her hit a bottom that was seemingly non-existent. My heart went out to her as she struggled day in and day out. I would pick her up for work in the mornings, only to find that she was still strung out from the day before. So, I'd go bang on her apartment door, yelling at her that it was time to go to work. While opening the restaurant, she'd turn up System of a Down to the point it made our ears bleed.
Her arms and legs were sprinkled with red sores from the lack of nutrients, and I literally thought I was going to see my friend die one day, right before my eyes. I had to give up on her. I couldn't bear the weight of her addiction, as I could barely stand the weight of my own. She was insane in the way that only an addict could understand, and her agnosticism told her that she would eventually get herself out of the mess.
When she lost her job at the restaurant, things went downhill fast. She moved away to go on her last binge, staring death in the face through overdoses and hospital trips. Before she left, she gave me a gift one morning. She'd promised me that she was done with meth. I'd heard and said that one before, but nevertheless, she handed me a cylinder glass container. It still sits on my dresser at home.
Inside the jar contained all the meth pipes she owned - crushed and covered in wax. While it was a good gesture, and it meant alot, I knew that she wasn't ready to quit.
It wasn't until several months later that I ran into her at the club I attended meetings at. She - who was once a sore-ridden, scrawny, rail of a girl - had put on some weight and was walking out of a CMA meeting! She'd gotten a sponsor and was working the steps. I couldn't believe I was seeing the same person.
She's now been sober for 18 months, and she has a child on the way. She's starting a family, and she believes in God. She's been raised from the dead, and I talk to her every so often about life.
I'm convinced that as of right now, the only "proof" I have of a crucified Christ is seeing the sores on the meth-addicts arms and legs. The only "proof" I have of a resurrected Christ is seeing the once hopeless alcoholic find a way of life that puts God in control and not self. So often, I spend so much time trying to wrap my mind around the unfathomable, while missing the significant stories of death and resurrection happening all around me.
While I can't prove that Jesus appeared after death to his apostles, I can hold the steady hand of an alcoholic who once suffered DTs. I can look into the eyes of a recovered meth addict and, where once only darkness resided, see new life. It's a hard thing to come by trying to prove matters that only faith can handle, but to touch, see, and hear new life in the form of once hopeless human beings is something I can accept as true.
God, we ask you to heighten our senses today so that we can take part in the resurrection happening around us.
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