Sunday, April 11, 2004

The Reason for My Hope

There is a void created when a loved one passes. It’s like the tearing away a part of flesh unexpectantly and the rest of the body has to find a way to go on despite the pain and trauma inflicted. After that initial wave of pain that hits, and the shock and disbelief start wearing away, then the pain of the wound starts to resonate. All of those past memories of episodes and journeys shared with this departed soul are recollected. Then the dull thud of knowing you will never be able to hug, laugh, talk, muse, plan, and enjoy this person again kicks in.

The first time I ever experienced this void, was when my great-grandmother, Grandma Bessie, passed away in 1983, not too long after her 2nd stroke. Bessie Hall was a beautiful dark skinned woman. My recollection of her was with thick and pretty hair that she normally wore pinned up in a bun. But those evenings when she’d sit in her chair and let her hair down and comb it out was a glorious sight to behold. Even when her hair turned predominately platinum, it was still beautiful to me. She was the color of brown that looks like a melted Hershey bar whenever she sweats. She wasn’t a talkative woman, but when she DID talk, she commanded attention and respect. We all knew, grands, great-grands, nieces, and nephews alike, when Bessie Hall tells a child to do something, you DO it, or else face the consequences.

It was this Grandma Bessie that first taught us reverence for the Almighty God. Because those warm Arkansas summers, when those thunder and storm clouds rolled in, caused our world to stop. Because whenever the skies turned gray and the rain came falling down, we had to cease and desist all things, which might be construed as not respecting God’s voice. Which was manifested in the thunder and crackling lightening that we could hear in the background. Just like my sister and my other cousins, I knew to straighten my act up when Grandma Bessie spoke…

Ya’ll hursh now!! (she’d say in a low stern voice) God is talking!

We had already turned off all of the lights, as well as the television, no radio, all we could do was sit in the dark and be still and look at each other. God was talking, we had to be quiet and listen to what He was saying. I always gave an honest attempt to decipher what God was saying through all of the thunder and lightening. All I could ever make out was…the sounds of thunder and lightening. But the presence of God definitely imposed itself on my countenance. If God was talking, He must be talking to someone else right then, hopefully he’d let me know when He was speaking directly to me.

Grandma Bessie was a proud and strong black woman, whose favorite TV shows were Gunsmoke and Perry Mason. I still remember how her hugs felt, and how she’d always have the happiest smile on her face whenever we arrived to see her. Of course, the last physical memory I have of Grandma Bessie was of her lying still in a casket with her eyes closed. But the body that I saw lying in the casket when it was the ‘family’s’ time to view the body, was not the same woman that I knew. This person they had in the casket looked pastey and cold. Nothing like my warm and colorful Grandma Bessie. Someway, some how, they had made a mistake. This couldn’t be the lady that I knew. But as we made our way back to the those front pews designated for the family, I happened to notice that there were a lot of people in the church crying. I even happened to glance over to my father, and I saw him dabbing his red and rimming eyes with a handkerchief. I had seen my grandmother and my mother cry many times. Usually in church when they got happy. But this was a new one on me. I was 12 years old, and this was the first time I ever saw my father cry. Since he was so much my model for strength and what a MAN should be, I was a bit taken aback. Because I had already felt those tears stinging the back of my eyeballs, as well as the low whimpers that can escape from the back of your throat if you don’t muffle them out or choke them back down. But somehow I had detached myself from the situation and I refused to cry. But seeing my father cry, made me realize that we all have to cry sometimes.

As for that body in the casket, it WAS Grandma Bessie’s earthly body. Full of embalming fluid and mortuary makeup, but yes, that was Grandma Bessie’s shell lying in that casket. But my grandmother taught us that we’re not supposed to cry at funerals, because people who have Jesus as their Lord and Savior know that absent from the body, means present with the Lord. Once they take that last breath, they are in a better place than we are here on earth. T

here are a lot of Christian principles and beliefs that were taught to me as a child, that have been challenged by non-Christians as an adult. I have friends who don’t believe in God. I have friends who believe in God, but they think Jesus is a completely fictitious person. Still, there’s others who believe in God, believe in the teachings of the ‘prophet’ or ‘rabbi’ Jesus, but they don’t believe that He is the Son of God. Some think the crucifixion was a hoax that had one of the disciples on the cross instead of Jesus. Some even think that Jesus’ body wasn’t actually resurrected, but rather the disciples came and stole His body from the tomb at night and told everybody that He had ascended.

It’s a wide range of theologies and religions out there ya’ll. And there are some extremely well read and literate people who will bring out volumes of works and papers and treatise denying the deity of the Christ. Of all the things about Christianity that are debated amongst all the different factions and denominations within Christianity, the pillar of Christianity is that Jesus Christ arose on the 1st day after Passover. The standard 7-day workweek was originally patterned after God’s week of creation. God worked 6 days and on that 7th day, He rested. No one can deny, not even Christians, that Saturday is the 7th and last day of the week. Even the Spanish name for Saturday, Sabado, is indicative of this being the Sabbath day.

The morning after the Sabbath was when Jesus’ mother Mary and Mary Magdalene arrived at the tomb to check on His body. Once they arrived at the tomb, an angel of the Lord appeared and told them that Jesus had already broke out, the Savior had risen. The angel even moved the rock out of the way so that they could check themselves. Once they looked inside and saw that Jesus wasn’t there, they grew very happy and excited. It’s ON again!! So this was the first Easter Sunday, and this is why Christians observe their Sabbath on Sundays instead of Saturdays.

You have to realize, this was a very difficult time for followers of Jesus in Israel. They had already crucified that ‘radical’ Jew who was talking all of this crazy, ‘peace and love’ talk. Even all the disciples had to go into hiding from public view, because they knew they were subject to persecution also. But these ladies who came and checked up on Jesus were the first ones to lay eyes on the risen Savior. People may claim, ‘How do you know they just didn’t SAY that??’ But of all the things about the gospels, especially since this was a time in history when women weren’t even allowed to testify in court, this was one of the things that stuck out the most to me when I had doubts. Because if there was a lie or a fraud to be perpetrated to the world about Jesus being resurrected, they definitely would have chosen some men to be the first to see Jesus and spread this 'lie' of Jesus rising. Therein lies the crux of Christianity and all of our hope. For if the tomb wasn’t empty, and Jesus’ body was still there, we would have no Rock to lean our faith on. Of all the smirks of naiveté that atheist’s intellectuals give me, I always try to see why they’re hating so much on Jesus? Do they think they’re immune to needing a Savior? Do they think they can go through this life and the next by themselves? Do they have a problem with peace, love and forgiveness?

Of all the reasons they try and hate on Jesus, they can’t knock His Word. And just like God promised, His word shall NEVER return void. It sticks baby, time and time again. They can’t burn it, they can’t bury it and they can’t fade it, cuz it’s all the way real. Of course the problem comes in when people ‘twerk’ it and change it up a ‘little bit’, maybe in translation, most often in interpretation. But God gave us a roadmap for these ‘twerkers’ and false prophets too. Jesus told us that we can tell the false prophets by the fruit that they bear. Look at what it do, and you’ll be able to see if it’s real or not. There’s a lot of ‘Christian’s’ that’s faking and shaking. Saying one thing and doing something completely different. The truth is, since Christ is risen, we ALL have access to Him, all we have to do is confess with our mouth and believe in our heart and we shall be saved. Saved from that cold grave and delivered to our Father’s house, wherein there are many mansions. Some people are too staid and ‘sensible’ to give their all to something that they can’t touch or see.

"I can’t put myself out there like that podna. No telling how them white boys have changed up the Bible to say what they want it to say. Even Hitler used the Bible in some of his speeches, I need something for the brother man, and Christianity is for them white folks!"

Ya’ll are tripping. You’re letting your distrust in a race of people obstruct your judgment and belief in God. There is NOTHING in the Bible that speaks of a blonde haired blue eyed Jesus. But even if it did, it REALLY wouldn’t matter in the big picture. What DOES matter, is that you believe in the sinful nature of man and that we all need a mediator to go before God. Jesus is that Wonderful Counselor, that Prince of Peace who will go before God for us, as our Mediator. Letting God know that He already paid for our sins: Let him in Father, he’s rolling with Us, I’ve already paid his way in.

Some see Christianity as the ‘cop out’ religion. That perfect blanket that covers and wipes away all our transgressions. They see ‘Christians’ running out and doing their dirt, then running right back under the shield of Christianity until the heat dies down. We all must repent and be accountable for each and every one of our sins. Paul even speaks of those ‘slick’ Christians who think they can sin at will, and still be saved because they say they believe in Jesus. It doesn’t work like that podna, God forbids.

Once you have faith, then you must pay the cost of discipleship. You must walk that walk, each and every day. Your life is no longer about you, but rather worshiping and serving the Almighty God. There is no man or entity to fear on earth, because the worst they can do is take your life. But if you have Jesus on your team, He has the keys to Eternal Life and it will only a matter of time before all of the saints who were persecuted in the name of Jesus, they get to rise up first. Yeah mane…people will be rising up out of their slumber..once that Rapture gets here, it’s on again baby. There will be no more tears, but our Lord will be back down as a roaring Lion, and this time we won’t have to turn the other cheek.

Of course this is part of my vengeful nature that I must pray to God about constantly, because I know I have it. If a n’ga hits me in the jaw, I’d have a hard time turning my other one to him, because I’m from the Southside and I know how that goes. If a n’ga hits you in the jaw on the Southside and you turn the other cheek, he’s going to hit you in that one too. But once you’re ready to stand up and take some blows for His sake, all the while using the word of God as your only offensive mechanism, you become the ultimate warrior. Onward Christian soldiers, marching on to war. And despite all of the arks and holy grails that men seek, none of this would mean a thing if Jesus hadn’t rose up from the tomb.

Happy Easter Sunday to all of you. Please remember that the Easter bunny, Easter eggs and candy don’t have a damn thing to do with Easter. Easter is all about the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Clap your hands, stomp your feet, let out a yell of joy, the tomb is empty ya’ll. There is hope for us all.