Several years ago, I came across a newspaper article about a new highway that was being constructed on the outskirts of London. The endeavor was an expensive one, requiring the demolition of a number of abandoned warehouses, but cost overruns and budget shortfalls forced the project to a sudden halt, and as a result, the earth lay exposed for over eight months before construction was able to continue. When the workers returned, they found the entire area adorned with flowers.
Not exactly front-page material—except for the fact that these particular flowers were unknown in England at the time. Botanists from a nearby university were summoned to the site, and after collecting samples, they determined that these were plants which the Romans had brought with them when they first sailed up the Thames. Lying dormant beneath the bricks and mortar, these seeds had remained hidden for thousands of years. However, under new conditions—the soft caress of sunlight, and the nourishment of gentle rain—they had stirred again with the potential of new life.
As they used to say at seminary, “That’ll preach!” And I think it is an especially powerful message for the season of Lent. During the coming weeks, we will remember our Savior’s journey to the cross. But we should also remember that the story doesn’t end on the cross.
In his book Clear of the Brooding Cloud, Jack Finegan points out that when we recite the familiar verse from the 23rd Psalm, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” we tend to overlook the word “through.” Life’s dark periods of shadows and sorrows, he reminds us, are not places where we remain forever. Rather, they are valleys through which we must occasionally go. There is always something more which awaits beyond.
The theme of Lent is not that death is an illusion. To suggest that Jesus did not actually die is to turn the cross into shadowboxing. As Christians we believe that death is a cold, hard reality that we all face. However, we also believe that death no longer has the last word. The grave is not the final curtain. Just like those ancient seeds, buried deep beneath the ground, there is always the potential for new life!
Not exactly front-page material—except for the fact that these particular flowers were unknown in England at the time. Botanists from a nearby university were summoned to the site, and after collecting samples, they determined that these were plants which the Romans had brought with them when they first sailed up the Thames. Lying dormant beneath the bricks and mortar, these seeds had remained hidden for thousands of years. However, under new conditions—the soft caress of sunlight, and the nourishment of gentle rain—they had stirred again with the potential of new life.
As they used to say at seminary, “That’ll preach!” And I think it is an especially powerful message for the season of Lent. During the coming weeks, we will remember our Savior’s journey to the cross. But we should also remember that the story doesn’t end on the cross.
In his book Clear of the Brooding Cloud, Jack Finegan points out that when we recite the familiar verse from the 23rd Psalm, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” we tend to overlook the word “through.” Life’s dark periods of shadows and sorrows, he reminds us, are not places where we remain forever. Rather, they are valleys through which we must occasionally go. There is always something more which awaits beyond.
The theme of Lent is not that death is an illusion. To suggest that Jesus did not actually die is to turn the cross into shadowboxing. As Christians we believe that death is a cold, hard reality that we all face. However, we also believe that death no longer has the last word. The grave is not the final curtain. Just like those ancient seeds, buried deep beneath the ground, there is always the potential for new life!
posted by Dr. Robert Crilley at
8:14 AM
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