Articles from this month's issue of the Berean News

Viewpoints A CELEBRATION OF LIFE - SPRING HAS SPRUNG! It's finally here, Spring. The birds are singing and the tulips are raising their heads toward the sky. There's an excitement that hasn't been felt for about six months now. It's Spring! There's a newness of life all around us. I'm ready for this new season, aren't you? When we think of Spring, it's almost impossible for us not to think about what our Lord did for us by giving us His life as He died for us on the Cross, and how our Heavenly Father raised Him to life. Romans 6:4&emdash;"We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the father, we too may live a new life." We have been promised that we, too, can live a new life as we accept His loving sacrifice on our behalf. It's incredible the price that was paid that day. 1 Corinthians 6:20&emdash;"You were bought at a price, therefore honor God with your bodies." God's love is so great that he looked past our sins and met us where we are. Romans 5:8&emdash;"But God showed His love for us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Christ's resurrection was God's plan that accomplished the fact that Jesus conquered death and the grave. 1 Corinthians 15:55&emdash;"Oh death were is your sting, oh grave where is your victory?" Spring is a time of reflection. It's a great time of the year to search our hearts as we look to allow the Holy Spirit to work in our lives. The newness of life was given by the resurrection of life, the author of life, Jesus. What it means to you and me is victory as we serve our Savior and we renew our hearts and minds to serve him. Happy Easter. --David Fiorello

Perspective Blessed are the DESPERATE In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus gave us what have become known as the beatitudes. One of them is "Blessed are the poor in spirit." This particular beatitude has seemed a little strange to me. Aren't we supposed to be full of the spirit, strong in the spirit, mighty in spirit? Just exactly what did Jesus mean when he said that those who were poor in spirit were blessed? A recent article by Richard Meyer dealt with this question. He wrote that one commentary translated this beatitude as "Blessed are the desperate." Mr. Meyer went on to claim that what Jesus was really saying was, "How lucky you are to be poor in spirit. How lucky you are to feel desperate." Eugene Peterson's translation of the New Testament, called "The Message," seems to agree with this idea. It says, "You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule." The idea seems to be that Jesus was saying that when we are desperate, when we are broken, when we are very discouraged, that is when we are often most open to God. When we grieve, when our spirits are low, when we are broken and bankrupt we are then in a position to be blessed by God. "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." We are more apt to place ourselves under God and his rule when we are desperate. We therefore are then under his reign and in his realm. We are in his kingdom. Too often, unfortunately, this is true. It takes desperation to send us to God and make us willing to place ourselves under his care. We ask him to take control when we feel that we have lost control ourselves. When we are broken, we ask him to pick us up and put us back together again. When we are desperate, we are open to God. Can we not change this? Can we not be transformed in such a way that we open ourselves to God at all times in our lives, even when things are going very well for us? It seems to me that Christian maturation should mean learning to live in such a way that we are always sensitive to God's spirit, that we are trying always to have him rule in our lives, that we are attempting to live in his kingdom now as fully as Christ did. Jesus' sojourn on earth was an example of how to live this kind of life, a life in communion with God as our father. Blessed are the desperate. Blessed also are those who do not have to be desperate to be open to God. Blessed indeed are you when you are daily walking and living in God's spirit, for you are then living in his kingdom even now! -Larry Urbaniak

Roy's Reflections The Centurion The events of that weekend disgusted me. They exhausted me. But most importantly, they changed me. I'm a Roman Centurion noncommissioned officer with about a hundred men under my command. Sounds impressive, doesn't it? It's not. I'm just a grunt in the Roman army. I do whatever I'm told. We left the Tower of Antonio and went east out of the city to the olive garden. What an entourage! We were led by a Jewish informant named Judas. He was followed by angry chief priests and scribes. Their temple police were with them, and my men brought up the rear. We pierced the darkness with swords and clubs and torches. Though the air was brisk, it was heavy with hatred. When we arrived at the garden called Gethsemane, a man came forward and asked, "Whom are you seeking?" Our informant stepped forward and, in an act of apparent friendship, gave the man a kiss. This was our signal. Still, I thought it best to confirm the identification, so I responded, "Jesus of Nazareth." "I am He ," the man replied. His frank admission so overwhelmed us that we lurched backward and many of my men fell. I arrested Jesus and led Him away to the house of the high priest. I thought I would never see Him again, but I was wrong. Later that night the Jews took Him to Pilate's judgment hall at the Antonio Fortress. They already had held some kind of a trial and convicted Jesus. They demanded that Pilate sentence Him to death. I could see that Pilate was going to waver on this one. He didn't believe Jesus had done anything worthy of death, but spineless as he was, he refused to take a stand and free Him. instead, he instructed me to have Him flogged. I gave the nod, and happily my men obliged. They scourged Him mercilessly, opening His back with deep and hideous wounds. My men were enjoying it far too much. They mocked Jesus because He had said He was king of the Jews. One of them found some nearby thorns and made a crown of them. I winced as I saw them push it into His tender brow. They slapped Him, spat upon Mm, ridiculed Him. They probably would have killed Him, but that was reserved for something even more diabolical - the cross. My soldiers led Jesus away and made Him carry His cross from Antonio to a small hill outside the city wall. We call it Calvary; the Jews call it Golgotha. There they nailed Him to the cross and dropped it into a hole. He hung 'ust a few feet off the ground. The chief priests continued mocking Jesus. They said, "if you're really who you claim to be, come down from that cross an save yourself " My men chimed in, "Yeah, if you're the king of the Jews, save yourself ." I've never seen so much hatred targeted toward one person. I had followed the brief career of this Nazarene. The authorities thought He was a troublemaker, so they told me to keep an eye on Him. So far as I know, He never did anything wrong. That's why I can't say that I was proud of what my men did to Him. Oh, I didn't really believe He was the Messiah or the Son of God. I thought He was just a deluded fake. But nobody deserves to be treated the way He was treated. During the hours He hung on the cross some odd things happened. The sky became dark, as black as at midnight. It was eerie. Someone said that the veil in the Jewish temple was ripped apart. But the soldiers I commanded seemed unshaken by these things. They were more interested in dividing up His clothes. Still, there was something different about this man. His demeanor, His gentleness, His total&emdash;well, call it joy-at being crucified. I can't explain it. Once He looked toward heaven and I thought I heard Him say, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. " As the hours dragged on, I could see that Ms life was nearing an end. Again He looked upward and said something to heaven. Then He died. After that some of the chief priests began to irritate me. They wanted me to hasten the death of the crucified because the Sabbath day was approaching. Jews don't permit bodies to hang on crosses during their holy day. The governor agreed and ordered me to break the men's legs. My soldiers did, but not Jesus' legs. It was evident there was no life left in His body. Just to make sure, however, I ordered one of my men to pierce His side with a spear. Water and blood gushed out. Jesus of Nazareth was dead. What a weekend! We expected some trouble with so many Jews in town for their feast, but nothing like this, Who would ever believe these chief priests, could hate a Jew the way they hated this Jesus? They accused Him of blasphemy, but I saw no blasphemer die on the cross that day. Usually I am the voice of authority. Today I was the voice of affirmation. Jesus was who He claimed to be, Almost inaudibly and with inexpressible wonder I said, "Certainly this was a righteous man. I don't know what drew me to Him. Perhaps it was the promise I heard Him make to the thief hanging beside Him. Jesus told him that he would be with Him in paradise. I wish He had said that to me ... --Roy R. Boswell

return to Berean News