“Well I hate to see this evening end, God only knows when I’ll see you again. Send a fax or send me a letter or give me a call that will even be better.”  From I’m Alright by Jo Dee Messina.

On the way in to the office this morning, I was flipping around on the radio and heard this country song from way back in the 1990s. I don’t usually listen to country, don’t know many songs, and of the songs I do know I don’t know the lyrics too well. But, this tune is pretty catchy, and so I began to listen more intently. I laughed at the “send me a fax” line; it was so last century. I’m surprised it didn’t say anything about pagers…or telegraphs.

We really believe that if we could just form the right mission statement, adopt the right programs, have the right music, hire the right pastor, or collect the right kind of people that there would not be anything to attack us as Christ’s church. The Bible, however, PROMISES opposition. There just is not any way around it.

Each year during Holy Week as I mark off the final week of Jesus’ earthly ministry, my heart and mind returns to Lockridge’s sermon “It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming.” As he reflected on the evils leading to Jesus’ death (“It’s Friday. The world is winning, people are sinning, evil is grinning. It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming.”) Lockridge reminded his hearers that even though things look bad, Resurrection Day was just a few days from now. 

First, the bodily resurrection of Jesus is the foundation of every Christian. Paul wrote to the church at Corinth that the bedrock of our faith was the veracity of Christ’s resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12-19). He wrote to the Romans that one had to believe that Jesus was raised from the dead in order to be saved (Rom. 10:9-10). He preached so much about Jesus and His resurrection that the philosophers in Athens mistook the resurrection for a foreign god (Acts 17:18).  We must believe that the Father raised His Son from the dead—physically from the dead. 

There are several things—unique and wonderful—that I think of when I think of my new home in Concord. While I’ve only lived here for five and a half months, I’ve maintained these thoughts over years of visiting the area. These markers distinguish Concord from any number of other places in North Carolina, the United States, and even the world.

(A little story, first: I have a friend in Clarksdale, MS who was almost completely deaf. In his struggle to hear, often he would have difficulty with sermons at church. The joke was, often, when he’d lean over to his wife in church and say, “What did he say?” his wife’s answer was always, “Husbands, love your wives.” He joked often with me about finding a new topic for my sermons. So, Gerald, this one’s for you…)

One of the biggest lessons I still own is, that during your resistance while captured, celebrate little victories. In these kinds of situations, any victory is worth celebrating. So, if you could lie to your captors and get away with it, or whether you could sneak in food or weapons, or just communicate with fellow prisoners, each one was a little victory. And you were to celebrate it.