Sunday, July 31, 2005

PRAYER OF AN UNKNOWN CONFEDERATE SOLDIER

I asked God for strength that I might achieve;
I was made weak that I might learn to obey.

I asked for health that I might do great things;
I was given infirmity that I might do better things.

I asked for riches that I might be happy;
I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power that I might have the praise of men;
I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life;
I was given life that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I had asked for,
but everything that I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself my unspoken prayers were answered;
I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

TRUST HIS HEART

All things work for our good
Though sometimes we can't see how they could
Troubles that break our hearts into two
Sometimes blind us to the truth
Our Father knows what's best for us
His ways are not our own
So when your pathway goes dim
And you just can't see Him
Remember you're not alone
God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
So when you don't understand
When you don't see His plan
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His heart

He sees the master plan
He holds the future in His hand
Don't live as those who have no hope
All our hope is found in Him
We see the present clearly
He sees the first and the last
And like a tapestry
He's weaving you and me
To someday be just like Him
He alone is faithful and true
He alone knows what's best for you
He whose heart is kind beyond measure
Gives unto each day what he deems best
Lovingly, it's part of pain and pleasure
Mingling toil with peace and rest.
When you can't trace His hand
Trust His Heart

THE PRODIGAL SON COMES HOME...MY TESTIMONY

BEFORE CHRIST

I grew up in a Protestant family setting, and at the beginning, church attendance and Sunday School were somehow part of my life. We were not a religious family, so these, as well as family prayer, were not very much emphasized, and, eventually, even churchgoing ceased altogether. The only verse I memorized from childhood, John 3:16, was the closest thing to the gospel that I ever heard.

CONVERSION

In high school, a classmate of mine took time to share the gospel with me. I was told that we were all sinners (Romans 3:23) and are destined for judgment as payment for sin (Romans 6:23), but God loved me and sent Jesus Christ to die in my place. John 3:16 took on a completely different meaning: I understood what it REALLY meant this time, and it all “made sense”. I was told that I should have a personal relationship with Christ and that I should receive Christ by faith. Sometime in September 1989 (I believe it was September 16), I received Christ as Savior and Lord.

I began to attend a local church in Cubao and participated in a Bible study at school. Most of my “barkada” professed Christ, and so we met together for fellowship and study. In college (UP Diliman), I also became part of the ministry of the University Gospel Fellowship, a campus church composed mostly of student members. I was also involved in different Christian organizations in school, and participated in Bible studies, retreats and other activities.

BACKSLIDING

Around 1993, I drifted away from the Lord. I sought to “make my own mark” in the world, and "to be myself." I looked at people, and people disappointed me. My prayer life slowly deteriorated, as did my Bible reading.

I sought belonging, and I thought I would find it in a "brotherhood of men." As a result, I joined a fraternity in college. From that point, whatever semblance of my Christian life rapidly eroded. I smoked 1-2 packs a day, drank until I could barely stand, tried drugs, prostitutes, got involved in violent fights with other fraternities.

At first, I still sort of attended church, but eventually, around the mid-90S, I stopped that too. I became disillusioned with "Christianity" and sought to eradicate whatever marks it may have left in my life. I openly professed atheism and LaVeyan Satanism. I read heavily on the occult and practiced witchcraft. I distanced myself from God as overtly as possible, but there were times when alone, I would remember the Christian song “When God Ran” (based on the story of the Prodigal Son) and I would uncontrollably break down into tears.

The song begins with a description of God’s attributes, His greatness and omnipotence, and that the only time He ever ran …
Was when He ran to me,
Took me in His arms,
Held my head to His chest,
Said, ‘My son's come home again’
Looked in my face
Wiped the tears from my eyes
With forgiveness in His voice
He said, ‘Son, Do you know I still love you?’
He caught me my surprise
When God ran”
It spoke of love, forgiveness and unconditional acceptance: in fact, all that I truly longed for in the world. At these times, my heart felt pricked, but most of the time, I felt so very far away: it was as if there was this emptiness in me and I desperately tried to fill it up with just about anything. I did not want to admit that I was wrong in my defiance, that I was mistaken to reject God.

I became an angry, bitter, and proud person. I kept up the facade that I was always "in control', even in the face of contrary facts. I lived a lie, claiming one thing but being another. I pretended that everything was "ok" and bragged about how intelligent I was. I openly boasted that I had no need for God, but deep inside, in my innermost being, I was miserable and inside, I felt empty. The thought of killing myself came often. To console myself, I preoccupied myself with the proverbial “wine, women and song.”

They say that what you are inside eventually comes out - it radiates. I found this true. I was, in the words of an officemate, a "perfect --shole", with a big chip on my shoulder: angry at the world, angry at the God I denied, angry at my family, and above all, angry at myself. I became a violent person. At the slightest provocation, I would not hesitate to lash out at others with tongue or fist - even against my closest friends and relatives.

My world was falling apart, and the things I held on to were eluding my grasp, did not escape me. People I trusted, people I considered my "brothers" failed and betrayed my trust. Still, I clung on, grasping at straws and shards of my so-called life, stubborn in my rebellion. I was a wreck, and I was too proud to admit what deep inside, I knew it.

THE ROAD BACK TO GOD

In 2003, while in Iligan, I met a childhood friend, and renewed our friendship. She became my girlfriend, and, in January 2004, she became my wife.

In April 2004, we moved to Manila and stayed there for a while, looking for employment, to no avail. My wife was eventually forced to go back to her job in Iligan. I stayed in Manila, still looking for a job, virtually penniless save for some cash from my mom and from some well-meaning fraternity brothers. I also attended a Bible study begun by some of our alumni fraternity brothers and I was quite surprised at the changes I saw in their lives.

At this time, I was also jobless and far from my wife. I was miserable and penniless, and in despair, I cried out to God. This was the beginning of my “homecoming”. I started to pray again and read my Bible. I slowly, and a bit inconsistently, started going to church again.

I finally found employment in the Cebu office of PhilHealth, and I reported for work in August 2004. My wife joined me 2 months later. While in Cebu, I tried to "clean up my act" but I kept my smoking habit. I did try to quit in July 2004, but only made it for 3 days. Even my wife gave up hoping that I would quit. I struggled long and hard, and was often disappointed by my dismal failure to quit. I made excuses for smoking, claiming that it "improved my temper, helped me relax, helped me think/work, removed the aftertaste of my food, etc...” The fact that my initial attempt to quit was a dismal failure rankled my mind.

THE MAN IN THE MIRROR

In December 2004, an officemate gave me a copy of “The Man In The Mirror” by Patrick Morley. The book challenged me to examine my life, since “an unexamined life is not worth living” (Plato). This confronted me about my Christianity that my life should be consistent with who I am and what I am in Christ.

I ran out of excuses. I saw that I was, again, starting to live another double-life. At this point, my main struggle was my dependency on nicotine. On the night of January 15, 2005, I made the decision to surrender this struggle to God. I admitted my inability to quit on my own strength, and asked Him to take away the craving. And praise God, He did! I haven’t smoked since then, a remarkable feat, considering that I’ve been smoking since 1993.

With this act, I surrendered my life to my Lord and recommitted myself to Him. I asked God to take control of my life, and to give me the strength to stand for Him, no matter what the consequences may be. I told him that I didn't want to run away again, or make any excuses before Him: I asked him to do what He would with my life. I told Him that I was tired of running away from His stubborn pursuit...

God has been faithful all throughout the years, yes, even in my lowest and worst points.

God, in my experience, is a garbage collector - He sifts through the refuse of human life...broken lives, ruined relationships, bodies wracked by drugs, AIDS, alcohol - no garbage pit is too dirty, too smelly, or to hopeless for Him - and He takes the broken pieces of our lives and repairs them. He is able to change lives - if we let Him. I know that personally: He changed me. He is still changing me. He is still in the business of transforming ruined, broken and seemingly hopeless lives from all walks of life. I have found my peace, my rest, my belonging and my acceptance where they’ve always been right from the start: In Christ alone.

Oh gaze of love so melt my pride
That I may in Your house but kneel
And in my brokenness to cry
Spring worship unto Thee.
...It isn't about what I could do, but what He has done.
It's not about my promises but about His promises.
It's not about what I see but what He knows.
It's all about HIM....

THE CRUCIFIXION OF THE CHRIST

A Physician Analyzes the CrucifixionA medical explanation of what Jesus endured on the day He died
Dr. C. Truman Davis

Several years ago I became interested in the physical aspects of the passion, or suffering, of Jesus Christ when I read an account of the crucifixion in Jim Bishop's book, The Day Christ Died. I suddenly realized that I had taken the crucifixion more or less for granted all these years - that I had grown callous to its horror by a too-easy familiarity with the grim details. It finally occurred to me that, as a physician, I did not even know the actual immediate cause of Christ's death. The gospel writers do not help much on this point. Since crucifixion and scourging were so common during their lifetimes, they undoubtedly considered a detailed description superfluous. For that reason we have only the concise words of the evangelists: "Pilate, having scourged Jesus, delivered Him to them to be crucified ... and they crucified Him."

Despite the gospel accounts' silence on the details of Christ's crucifixion, many have looked into this subject in the past. In my personal study of the event from a medical viewpoint, I am indebted especially to Dr. Pierre Barbet, a French surgeon who did exhaustive historical and experimental research and wrote extensively on the topic.

An attempt to examine the infinite psychic and spiritual suffering of the Incarnate1 God in atonement 2 for the sins of fallen man is beyond the scope of this article. However, the physiological and anatomical aspects of our Lord's passion we can examine in some detail. What did the body of Jesus of Nazareth actually endure during those hours of torture?

Gethsemane

The physical passion of Christ began in Gethsemane. Of the many aspects of His initial suffering, the one which is of particular physiological interest is the bloody sweat. Interestingly enough, the physician, St. Luke, is the only evangelist to mention this occurrence. He says, "And being in an agony, he prayed the longer. And his sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground" (Luke 22:44 KJV).

Every attempt imaginable has been used by modern scholars to explain away the phenomenon of bloody sweat, apparently under the mistaken impression that it simply does not occur. A great deal of effort could be saved by consulting the medical literature. Though very rare, the phenomenon of hematidrosis, or bloody sweat, is well documented. Under great emotional stress, tiny capillaries in the sweat glands can break, thus mixing blood with sweat. This process alone could have produced marked weakness and possible shock.

Although Jesus' betrayal and arrest are important portions of the passion story, the next event in the account which is significant from a medical perspective is His trial before the Sanhedrin and Caiaphas, the High Priest. Here the first physical trauma was inflicted. A soldier struck Jesus across the face for remaining silent when questioned by Caiaphas. The palace guards then blindfolded Him, mockingly taunted Him to identify them as each passed by, spat on Him, and struck Him in the face.

Before Pilate

In the early morning, battered and bruised, dehydrated, and worn out from a sleepless night, Jesus was taken across Jerusalem to the Praetorium of the Fortress Antonia, the seat of government of the Procurator of Judea, Pontius Pilate. We are familiar with Pilate's action in attempting to shift responsibility to Herod Antipas, the Tetrarch of Judea. Jesus apparently suffered no physical mistreatment at the hands of Herod and was returned to Pilate. It was then, in response to the outcry of the mob, that Pilate ordered Barabbas released and condemned Jesus to scourging and crucifixion.

Preparations for Jesus' scourging were carried out at Caesar's orders. The prisoner was stripped of His clothing and His hands tied to a post above His head. The Roman legionnaire stepped forward with the flagrum, or flagellum, in his hand. This was a short whip consisting of several heavy, leather thongs with two small balls of lead attached near the ends of each. The heavy whip was brought down with full force again and again across Jesus' shoulders, back and legs. At first the weighted thongs cut through the skin only. Then, as the blows continued, they cut deeper into the subcutaneous tissues, producing first an oozing of blood from the capillaries and veins of the skin and finally spurting arterial bleeding from vessels in the underlying muscles.

The small balls of lead first produced large deep bruises that were broken open by subsequent blows. Finally, the skin of the back was hanging in long ribbons, and the entire area was an unrecognizable mass of torn, bleeding tissue. When it was determined by the centurion in charge that the prisoner was near death, the beating was finally stopped.

Mockery

The half-fainting Jesus was then untied and allowed to slump to the stone pavement, wet with his own blood. The Roman soldiers saw a great joke in this provincial Jew claiming to be a king. They threw a robe across His shoulders and placed a stick in His hand for a scepter. They still needed a crown to make their travesty complete. Small flexible branches covered with long thorns, commonly used for kindling fires in the charcoal braziers in the courtyard, were plaited in the shape of a crude crown. The crown was pressed into his scalp and again there was copious bleeding as the thorns pierced the very vascular tissue. After mocking Him and striking Him across the face, the soldiers took the stick from His hand and struck Him across the head, driving the thorns deeper in His scalp. Finally, they tired of their sadistic sport and tore the robe from His back. The robe had already become adherent to the clots of blood and serum in the wounds, and its removal, just as in the careless removal of a surgical bandage, caused excruciating pain. The wounds again began to bleed.

Golgotha

In deference to Jewish custom, the Romans apparently returned His garments. The heavy patibulum3 of the cross was tied across His shoulders. The procession of the condemned Christ, two thieves, and the execution detail of Roman soldiers headed by a centurion began its slow journey along the route which we know today as the Via Dolorosa.

In spite of Jesus' efforts to walk erect, the weight of the heavy wooden beam, together with the shock produced by copious loss of blood, was too much. He stumbled and fell. The rough wood of the beam gouged into the lacerated skin and muscles of the shoulders. He tried to rise, but human muscles had been pushed beyond their endurance. The centurion, anxious to proceed with the crucifixion, selected a stalwart North African onlooker, Simon of Cyrene, to carry the cross. Jesus followed, still bleeding and sweating the cold, clammy sweat of shock. The 650-yard journey from the Fortress Antonia to Golgotha was finally completed. The prisoner was again stripped of His clothing except for a loin cloth which was allowed the Jews.

The crucifixion began. Jesus was offered wine mixed with myrrh, a mild analgesic, pain-reliving mixture. He refused the drink. Simon was ordered to place the patibulum on the ground, and Jesus was quickly thrown backward, with His shoulders against the wood. The legionnaire felt for the depression at the front of the wrist. He drove a heavy, square wrought-iron nail through the wrist and deep into the wood. Quickly, he moved to the other side and repeated the action, being careful not to pull the arms too tightly, but to allow some flexion and movement. The patibulum was then lifted into place at the top of the stipes, and the titulus reading "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews" was nailed into place.

The left foot was pressed backward against the right foot. With both feet extended, toes down, a nail was driven through the arch of each, leaving the knees moderately flexed. The victim was now crucified.

On the Cross

As Jesus slowly sagged down with more weight on the nails in the wrist, excruciating, fiery pain shot along the fingers and up the arms to explode in the brain. The nails in the wrists were putting pressure on the median nerve, large nerve trunks which traverse the mid-wrist and hand. As He pushed himself upward to avoid this stretching torment, He placed His full weight on the nail through His feet. Again there was searing agony as the nail tore through the nerves between the metatarsal bones of his feet.

At this point, another phenomenon occurred. As the arms fatigued, great waves of cramps swept over the muscles, knotting them in deep relentless, throbbing pain. With these cramps came the inability to push Himself upward. Hanging by the arm, the pectoral muscles, the large muscles of the chest, were paralyzed and the intercostal muscles, the small muscles between the ribs, were unable to act. Air could be drawn into the lungs, but could not be exhaled. Jesus fought to raise Himself in order to get even one short breath. Finally, the carbon dioxide level increased in the lungs and in the blood stream, and the cramps partially subsided.

The Last Words

Spasmodically, He was able to push Himself upward to exhale and bring in life-giving oxygen. It was undoubtedly during these periods that He uttered the seven short sentences that are recorded.

The first - looking down at the Roman soldiers throwing dice for His seamless garment: "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they do."

The second - to the penitent thief: "Today, thou shalt be with me in Paradise."

The third - looking down at Mary His mother, He said: "Woman, behold your son." Then turning to the terrified, grief-stricken adolescent John, the beloved apostle, He said: "Behold your mother."

The fourth cry is from the beginning of Psalm 22: "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"

He suffered hours of limitless pain, cycles of twisting, joint-rending cramps, intermittent partial asphyxiation, and searing pain as tissue was torn from His lacerated back from His movement up and down against the rough timbers of the cross. Then another agony began: a deep crushing pain in the chest as the pericardium, the sac surrounding the heart, slowly filled with serum and began to compress the heart.

The prophecy in Psalm 22:14 was being fulfilled: "I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint, my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels."

The end was rapidly approaching. The loss of tissue fluids had reached a critical level; the compressed heart was struggling to pump heavy, thick, sluggish blood to the tissues, and the tortured lungs were making a frantic effort to inhale small gulps of air. The markedly dehydrated tissues sent their flood of stimuli to the brain. Jesus gasped His fifth cry: "I thirst." Again we read in the prophetic psalm: "My strength is dried up like a potsherd; my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou has brought me into the dust of death" (Psalm 22:15 KJV).

A sponge soaked in posca, the cheap, sour wine that was the staple drink of the Roman legionnaires, was lifted to Jesus' lips. His body was now in extremis, and He could feel the chill of death creeping through His tissues. This realization brought forth His sixth word, possibly little more than a tortured whisper: "It is finished." His mission of atonement9 had completed. Finally, He could allow His body to die. With one last surge of strength, He once again pressed His torn feet against the nail, straightened His legs, took a deeper breath, and uttered His seventh and last cry: "Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit."

Death

The common method of ending a crucifixion was by crurifracture, the breaking of the bones of the leg. This prevented the victim from pushing himself upward; the tension could not be relieved from the muscles of the chest, and rapid suffocation occurred. The legs of the two thieves were broken, but when the soldiers approached Jesus, they saw that this was unnecessary.

Apparently, the make doubly sure of death, the legionnaire drove his lance between the ribs, upward through the pericardium and into the heart. John 19:34 states, "And immediately there came out blood and water." Thus there was an escape of watery fluid from the sac surrounding the heart and the blood of the interior of the heart. This is rather conclusive post-mortem evidence that Jesus died, not the usual crucifixion death by suffocation, but of heart failure due to shock and constriction of the heart by fluid in the pericardium.
Resurrection

In these events, we have seen a glimpse of the epitome of evil that man can exhibit toward is fellowman and toward God. This is an ugly sight and is likely to leave us despondent and depressed.

But the crucifixion was not the end of the story. How grateful we can be that we have a sequel: a glimpse of the infinite mercy of God toward man - - the gift of atonement, the miracle of the resurrection, and the expectation of Easter morning.