An oft-repeated poem outlines the confusion of trying to live in absolute freedom…freedom from any responsibility or rule or law or God telling you how you should live.

Creed by Steve Turner

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don’t hurt anyone
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before, during, and
after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
We believe that sodomy’s OK.
We believe that taboos are taboo.

We believe that everything’s getting better
despite evidence to the contrary.
The evidence must be investigated
And you can prove anything with evidence.

We believe there’s something in horoscopes
UFO’s and bent spoons.
Jesus was a good man just like Buddha,
Mohammed, and ourselves.
He was a good moral teacher though we think
His good morals were bad.

We believe that all religions are basically the same-
at least the one that we read was.
They all believe in love and goodness.
They only differ on matters of creation,
sin, heaven, hell, God, and salvation.

We believe that after death comes the Nothing
Because when you ask the dead what happens
they say nothing.
If death is not the end, if the dead have lied, then its
compulsory heaven for all
excepting perhaps
Hitler, Stalin, and Genghis Kahn

We believe in Masters and Johnson
What’s selected is average.
What’s average is normal.
What’s normal is good.

We believe in total disarmament.
We believe there are direct links between warfare and
bloodshed.
Americans should beat their guns into tractors .
And the Russians would be sure to follow.

We believe that man is essentially good.
It’s only his behavior that lets him down.
This is the fault of society.
Society is the fault of conditions.
Conditions are the fault of society.

We believe that each man must find the truth that
is right for him.
Reality will adapt accordingly.
The universe will readjust.
History will alter.
We believe that there is no absolute truth
excepting the truth
that there is no absolute truth.

We believe in the rejection of creeds,
And the flowering of individual thought.

If chance be
the Father of all flesh,
disaster is his rainbow in the sky
and when you hear

State of Emergency!
Sniper Kills Ten!
Troops on Rampage!
Whites go Looting!
Bomb Blasts School!
It is but the sound of man
worshipping his maker.

From reading this elsewhere on the web, the last 11 lines were not in the original version, but were added later by Turner for the publication in Ravi Zacharias’ book, Can Man Live Without God?

On the other hand, if you really believe in “live-and-let-live” and that you can just believe whatever you want without needing moral absolutes, could I get change for a million?

I did not weep for joy. But I agree with everything else that John Piper says in this video.

How many similarities and differences do you see between Easter for today’s church and Easter for those that experienced the first one? Of course, the differences are many – egg hunts, sales and shopping, chocolate bunnies, to name a few.

But one of the biggest differences also leads to one of the biggest similarities.

The first Easter was rather low-key, I would imagine. Jesus’ followers were still in hiding and shock from the events of the crucifixion. Even hearing the news that Jesus was alive, there had to be disbelief, numbness, confusion – as evidenced by the conversation of the disciples traveling to Emmaus.

On the other hand, Easter in American churches is decidedly…loud. We know that it might be the only chance we have to impress those that will only enter our doors this one time, so we pull out all the stops. For many churches that means a production – a BIG production. Even several days of the big production.

And then?

That’s where there can be an important similarity. What do you do when what seems like the big finish becomes the big beginning? How do you refocus when events seem to have reached their peak, when the credits should roll and everyone should live happily ever after…and Monday comes?

For James, John, Peter and the gang, three years of preparation had led them to Jerusalem and a terrible ending. The Messiah was taken and killed. One of their group had betrayed him and their entire purpose had vanished on a cross. Then Easter morning came and the terrible ending suddenly became something else entirely.

The fatigue of wasted emotion gave way to exhilaration, then to a new reality for this small group. The Messiah HAD come, but it wasn’t what they had expected. Suddenly there was the responsibility of a continued and sustained…something. Something, that would become the Church.

It became the beginning of the most important fifty days in the life of the Church. Fifty days later, there was power in the upper room and God breaking through in the streets. It all started on a Monday.

That’s where we are, the beginning of fifty important days in the life of the Church.

The big productions came and went. The songs were sung, the big outreaches to kids and families were produced, all hands were on deck and the ships sailed. (Okay, I mix my metaphors and overdo it a bit…and tend to run-on my sentences, but hopefully you get the idea.)

And the question for all is…now what?

Monday.

We’ll debrief the weekend. We’ll think about the next big event. We’ll gameplan for the summer. We’ll try to recover physically and emotionally from what we’ve used in the productions and big Easter events.

But – and I’ll guarantee this – the next fifty days will be important. By the time we get to May 31, we’ll know how Easter weekend really went. As we head into June we’ll know whether these last few days produced life or just a lot of activity.

Yes, it’s been important, and hopefully some lasting decisions have been made and new life has begun.

Yes, the tomb is empty. But Monday’s coming.

And 50 important days.

Ready?

When I saw the name of my sister-in-law come up in the caller ID on my cell phone, I silently prayed that there would be some reason she was calling me in the middle of a Sunday night service other than the one that I knew was coming. Julie and Trudi’s dad, Holton, has been battling cancer for some time, and his condition was steadily growing worse.

Trudi was scheduled to fly to Asheville on March 5th, on what would be Holt’s 74th birthday. We knew he didn’t have much time. We didn’t know how little time he actually had.

As I made my way from the Production Suite at the church down the back stairwell, Julie confirmed what I had already guessed. Holton had peacefully passed from this life at 6:30 pm, February 22, 2009.

Trudi and Julie had been with their sister, Christi, when she had passed away 2 1/2 years ago. Her death had been unexpected, but they had been able to rush to her side to share her last few hours on earth with her. When Christi finally slipped into the arms of Christ, no one had to tell them that the end had come.

But on this night, Trudi was part of the offering counting team at church. Julie, Casey, their brother, and Holton’s wife, Jan, had been unable to reach Trudi, as the noise of the counting room drowned out the buzzing of her cell phone.

I stopped before entering the counting room, quickly called our daughter, Shae, and told her to pray for her mom. And me.

This is one of those things you dread ever having to do.

What do say? I prayed again for the right words, and gently opened the door.

Trudi was in the rear of the room, entering checks into the online deposit system. The other four members of the counting team were chatting about something. I have no idea what. I knew that the rest of the family had left messages on her cell phone, but I didn’t want Trudi to see her phone before I had a chance to get her out of the room.

“Do you have some gum?” I asked, trying to act innocent and normal. It wasn’t really working. They could tell I was a little uptight about something. I wanted to get into her purse so I could slip her phone out.

“In my purse.”

I couldn’t find the gum. I found a mint and put it into my mouth.

“Would you check my phone? I thought I heard it buzzing a while ago.” I found the gum.

“Um…yeah.” I pulled the phone out and slipped it into my pocket.

“Who called?”

“Um, it’s okay.” I’m not sure if I specifically lied, but I definitely left her with the impression that no one had called. Suddenly, I was unsure what I should do. Maybe I could just wait until we got home in thirty minutes or so.

I walked out of the room, and paced for a minute. No, I needed to get her out of the room and let her know so she could call Julie and Jan and Casey and begin the process I knew we would all go through over the next few days.

As I went back into the room, I moved over to the corner, where I knew Trudi couldn’t see me. I tried to silently let the other counters know that they needed to take over for her, then I asked if I could talk to Trudi outside.

Lots of questioning looks from everyone followed us into the hall. Church would be ending soon, and I knew I had to give her the opportunity to get out of the building first. I gave one final plea for the right words, and knew I had none. All I could do was look into her eyes.

As it turns out, those were the right words.

“What is it?” Then the realization came. “Did my dad pass away?”

Later, when I went back to the church to pick up Sam, Summer and Sawyer to take them home, we sat in the parking lot while I tried to explain what had happened.

Sad? Yes, I said. For us. But not for him. He’s happy to be free of pain. He’s happy to be whole and well. He’s happy to see Jesus face-to-face.

There were several pictures of both Holton and Christi that I had to choose from, but I ended up with this one of Holton and Christi’s son, Jason. It was labeled as being of Holton and Christi in my computer, and even though it’s Jason, not Christi, I believed it was her, because Christi always seemed to like things that weren’t “girlie” – motorcycles and cleaning off her roof come to mind.

But it’s still a great picture of Holton. This is the easy-going, down-home guy I knew. He loved to have fun. He loved his grandchildren.

I’m sure Holton and Christi are enjoying a great reunion.