Friday, February 19th

I am Lazarus, desperately in need of transformation.

I keep a note tucked into my Bible to remind me of that. The note is actually someone’s shopping list. Onto the back of it is scrawled the name and license plate number of the young woman whose gold Saturn hit me one evening while I was in the drive-through lane of our nearby In-n-Out burger.

I was just sitting there, waiting for my turn to inch forward to talk into the squawk box and place my order. All of a sudden . . . BANG!

I bounded out of my car to check the damage and make sure the scofflaw didn’t just drive off. I was angry. She noticed. In fact, my first words were something like “DIDN’T YOU SEE ME JUST SITTING THERE? WEREN’T YOU PAYING ATTENTION????” She apologized repeatedly.

There wasn’t any visible damage to either car. But I was ticked off enough to demand that she write down her name, phone number, insurance information and her car’s license plate number. Unnecessary, really, since there was no damage. But I was steamed and was going to make a point.

After a few minutes, she returned from her car and handed me a note – her shopping list, presumably the only piece of paper she could find – on the back of which she had written the information I had asked for. Only then did I notice her personalized license plate, which read, “AGAPAY.” I asked her if it meant what I thought. Indeed, her response and the cross hanging from her rearview mirror confirmed that it did.

“Agape,” Greek for the greatest, deepest love that exists anywhere. Agape, the love that God has for me, even when I lose my temper with others. Agape, the love Jesus lifted high as he was being pinned to the cross. Agape, exactly what I didn’textend to this young driver, even though my Lord and my faith require it.

I am Lazarus, desperately in need of transformation.

Only, now I know it.

Ed Klodt

Thursday, February 18th

Who am I?

Am I Lazarus – soul sick, dying, trapped in a tomb, brought to life, transformed? Am I his sister Martha – busy, worried, distracted by many things, able to believe and declare that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God? Am I Mary – grieving so greatly that Jesus wept, listening so gracefully at Jesus’ feet?

Who are we?

We might respond to that question of identity in many different ways at any given time. But though it all, we hold to what Lazarus and his sisters knew when their friend Jesus called “come out.” We are those whom God helps. His children. His creation. His beloved. Those in whom He delights.

Those whom He transforms. We are as He made us, and as he remakes us, every day.

Dear Lord, help us know that you are God. You made us, and we are yours; we are your people, the sheep of your pasture. {Psalm 100}

Jenifer Shaw

Ash Wednesday- February 17th

I am Lazarus.

God, I begin this Lenten journey today knowing that if I am not Lazarus, I need to be. That is because Lazarus means “whom God helps.” And if I don’t know that I need your help- I should know.

So I am asking for your help. Please take me through this process. At the end of it, may I, at the very least, become open to your help.

I warn you though. I am going be your biggest barrier in this process of transformation. I am going to resist, complain, try to take care of my problems by myself in my own shortsighted way, and I am going to take credit for any success. Also, I tend to have a limited imagination. My version of transformation probably doesn’t look anywhere near what you have got planned for me.

So at the very beginning of this process, as the ashes are put upon my forehead in the form of a cross, may I remember that I am dust. But may I also remember that you can do good things with dust. Amen.

An Invitation to our Lenten Journey together

The Lenten Journey Towards Easter: The Lazarus Life

The season of Lent begs us to look at our own lives. It invites us on a 40 day journey to look at who we are and who we want to be. We are called to look at the longings of our life, the unmet expectations and even the disappointments.

Often we don’t look too deep. Maybe we don’t want too. Maybe we don’t know how. Maybe we just don’t have time. But we begin our Lenten journey by putting ashes on our forehead and hearing the words “remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return,” and we are reminded in a stark way that we are mortal and that there is more to life than the shallow surface.

Of course the Lenten journey doesn’t stop at the ashes. The ashes are just the beginning of a journey with a destination. And this year we journey with Lazarus, a man whose name literally means “one whom God helps.” Lazarus is a wonderful reminder that as we spent time in Lent looking deeper into our lives, coming to terms with our brokenness, what we are doing is creating room for God to work, to use his strength in our weakness, to bring His help.

This is the process called transformation.

It is not an easy process. Sometimes it is messy. Sometimes it stinks. Sometimes we go forward only to fall back. The book The Lazarus Life reminds us of this. But it also reminds us that if we can create space for Jesus, He will fill that space and bring His transformation.

So you are invited to join us on this journey. You can get the book at church or order it on line. You can come to Ascension on the weekend and hear the sermon each week. And you can receive join us on this daily blog as Ascensions Adult Education team will provide daily reflections on the themes of the book and the story of Lazarus as told in the 11 chapter of John.

Our reflections will start on Wed. Feb. 16th. May God bless you this season of Lent.

Author Steven Smith talks about The Lazarus Life