I Have a Problem with Easter
Yesterday, I was frantically shopping to find a new Easter dress and matching shoes. Let's just say the curse of the married woman has hit and those extra 5lbs. (we'll leave it at that) isn't doing me any favors fitting into the 6-7 really nice dresses in my closet. Not a single one fit. So without shedding a tear I decided two days before Easter Sunday to begin the quest for new clothing...along with everyone else's brother, momma, and grandma.
I felt a little guilty due to the fact that I have other dresses, and skirts and tops in my closet, but I rationalize all this by telling myself they aren't dressy enough. They are more like "Gap" casual shirt dresses. I mean we don't really need to spend the money but what's a little splurge every now and again?!? It is Easter after all. Women have been buying Easter frocks, shoes, frilly things, ties for their husbands and matching clutches since probably before the Flood. Frankly, I can't remember a Easter that I've gone without a new dress and usually new shoes too.
So before I really get to the meat of this blog you should know I've been ready a book called "7" by Jen Hatmaker. It's really about our excessive living compared to the rest of the world and about how spoiled we are.... I've also been asking Father to help me understand sacrifice. Throw in that with some dinners with missionaries and you've got an interesting equation. Some of you may want to stop reading now because I'm about to get really honest and probably step on some toes.
So here I am on "Good Friday" shopping for a dress at 8:00 p.m. at night, after the outfit I bought the day before isn't quiet what I need. I'm looking for something I don't need while rationalizing spending the money. That's about the time I noticed the people around me. Moms, dads, families, little girls, teens everyone like me searching for Easter clothes. I over heard one conversation between two moms. As they were laughing, one mom said "I"m not sure why I always what until the last minute. It's as if I didn't know Easter was coming." Somewhere between Kohl's and the mall my heart began to sink. What was I doing? What were we doing? I was no different than the family who only goes to church on Easter and Christmas, scrounging around to buy my Easter "best." To look the part, to get the beloved compliments on my new dress. To have people say, "Oh you and Bryan look so cute together." As my heart sank lower and my thoughts began to whirl, I had to ask, but where is JESUS?
Trust me I'm not trying to pick a battle here, I love dressing up. Love new clothes. Who doesn't? However, how many times have we heard, "You need to look your best for Jesus." "Well, we should wear our best for the Lord." I'm going to offend some here, but that is junk! Define "our best for the Lord"?? The Bible says put off gold and costly adornings, especially for women (1 Timothy 2) Tell the African mom of 8 to dress her best, tell the grandmother in the projects that all her 4 dependents have to have new shoes. Did you know that as Americans, if you make over $25,000 a year, you are now in the world's top 3% of wealth! So congratulations. Now go put on your best! For me, it isn't about the dress, it's about the heart. So why is it we try to dress to impress at church while our hearts are anything but our best. I dare say that most of us, myself included, will walk into our churches tomorrow dressed to the nine's but our hearts aren't dressed...they aren't even clean. Our culture, our own choices, our hearts have made us turn Easter into a parade.
I also thought about that first Easter. That time frame between Christ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the Resurrection. What an emotional roller coaster ride! Happiness and joy to sorrow, confusion and fear. Then came grief and more confusion. Then finally bewilderment, excitement, victory and wonder. Take a moment and let your mind think about the first Holy Week. I can imagine that those closest to Christ were very different from us. Some may have had blood stained robes from attempting to help Jesus. Were the women's veils stained with tears and sweat? Dirty feet. No Sabbath celebration was going to be held this week so they'd been no reason to bath or perfume themselves. Many had probably torn their clothing in grief. Blood, sweat, stains, tears, dirt, odor, torn and ripped clothing. Now picture us, tomorrow. New, shiny, adorned, cleaned, oozing with money.... For us, it is as if nothing every happened. For the Americans and perhaps other believers around the World we've take the emphasis away from His worship and our hearts celebrating Him to our outward appearances. One day I'd love to walk into church on Easter Sunday in a blood stained shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The difference would be my best because my heart wouldn't be cluttered with money or things or anything but what the Lord has done.
So at 9:30 p.m. last night I headed home with a new dress and two new pairs of shoes... I along with the countless others once again let my vanity overtake Christ's glory. I'm praying for my heart to truly change. I know as I walk into church tomorrow a part of my heart, the small part that hasn't been overtaken by worldliness and materialism will cry out to Jesus my apology for what we've done to Easter.
Beautiful, adorned Feet
I felt a little guilty due to the fact that I have other dresses, and skirts and tops in my closet, but I rationalize all this by telling myself they aren't dressy enough. They are more like "Gap" casual shirt dresses. I mean we don't really need to spend the money but what's a little splurge every now and again?!? It is Easter after all. Women have been buying Easter frocks, shoes, frilly things, ties for their husbands and matching clutches since probably before the Flood. Frankly, I can't remember a Easter that I've gone without a new dress and usually new shoes too.
So before I really get to the meat of this blog you should know I've been ready a book called "7" by Jen Hatmaker. It's really about our excessive living compared to the rest of the world and about how spoiled we are.... I've also been asking Father to help me understand sacrifice. Throw in that with some dinners with missionaries and you've got an interesting equation. Some of you may want to stop reading now because I'm about to get really honest and probably step on some toes.
So here I am on "Good Friday" shopping for a dress at 8:00 p.m. at night, after the outfit I bought the day before isn't quiet what I need. I'm looking for something I don't need while rationalizing spending the money. That's about the time I noticed the people around me. Moms, dads, families, little girls, teens everyone like me searching for Easter clothes. I over heard one conversation between two moms. As they were laughing, one mom said "I"m not sure why I always what until the last minute. It's as if I didn't know Easter was coming." Somewhere between Kohl's and the mall my heart began to sink. What was I doing? What were we doing? I was no different than the family who only goes to church on Easter and Christmas, scrounging around to buy my Easter "best." To look the part, to get the beloved compliments on my new dress. To have people say, "Oh you and Bryan look so cute together." As my heart sank lower and my thoughts began to whirl, I had to ask, but where is JESUS?
Trust me I'm not trying to pick a battle here, I love dressing up. Love new clothes. Who doesn't? However, how many times have we heard, "You need to look your best for Jesus." "Well, we should wear our best for the Lord." I'm going to offend some here, but that is junk! Define "our best for the Lord"?? The Bible says put off gold and costly adornings, especially for women (1 Timothy 2) Tell the African mom of 8 to dress her best, tell the grandmother in the projects that all her 4 dependents have to have new shoes. Did you know that as Americans, if you make over $25,000 a year, you are now in the world's top 3% of wealth! So congratulations. Now go put on your best! For me, it isn't about the dress, it's about the heart. So why is it we try to dress to impress at church while our hearts are anything but our best. I dare say that most of us, myself included, will walk into our churches tomorrow dressed to the nine's but our hearts aren't dressed...they aren't even clean. Our culture, our own choices, our hearts have made us turn Easter into a parade.
I also thought about that first Easter. That time frame between Christ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and the Resurrection. What an emotional roller coaster ride! Happiness and joy to sorrow, confusion and fear. Then came grief and more confusion. Then finally bewilderment, excitement, victory and wonder. Take a moment and let your mind think about the first Holy Week. I can imagine that those closest to Christ were very different from us. Some may have had blood stained robes from attempting to help Jesus. Were the women's veils stained with tears and sweat? Dirty feet. No Sabbath celebration was going to be held this week so they'd been no reason to bath or perfume themselves. Many had probably torn their clothing in grief. Blood, sweat, stains, tears, dirt, odor, torn and ripped clothing. Now picture us, tomorrow. New, shiny, adorned, cleaned, oozing with money.... For us, it is as if nothing every happened. For the Americans and perhaps other believers around the World we've take the emphasis away from His worship and our hearts celebrating Him to our outward appearances. One day I'd love to walk into church on Easter Sunday in a blood stained shirt and a pair of sweatpants. The difference would be my best because my heart wouldn't be cluttered with money or things or anything but what the Lord has done.
So at 9:30 p.m. last night I headed home with a new dress and two new pairs of shoes... I along with the countless others once again let my vanity overtake Christ's glory. I'm praying for my heart to truly change. I know as I walk into church tomorrow a part of my heart, the small part that hasn't been overtaken by worldliness and materialism will cry out to Jesus my apology for what we've done to Easter.
Beautiful, adorned Feet
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