This past weekend at Eastbrook Church, as we celebrated the resurrection, we launched a new series entitled “Who Am I?: Finding Identity in Christ.” My first message in that series, “He Is – I Am,” explored how the life, death and resurrection of Jesus the Messiah leads us into the discovery of what it truly means to be human in relation to God and as our unique selves.
The remainder of the series addresses this pervasive question within our culture: who am I? We receive all sorts of advice in answering that question, from ‘following our noses’ to trying on different identities to reacting against the prevailing culture or our histories. But how do we discover our personal identity? Even more, is the concept of personal identity even something that is helpful to consider?
This series looks at what Jesus’ life, death and resurrection mean for our personal identity with God in Christ.
Here are the titles of the series:
- April 7/8: I am not stuck
- April 14/15: I am known by faith
- April 21/22: I am more than my image
- April 28/29: I am made uniquely
- May 5/6: I am unfinished
- May 12/13: I am loved beyond measure
- May 19/20: I am filled with God’s power
As we celebrated the resurrection this past weekend at Eastbrook Church we also began a new series “Who Am I?” on identity in Christ. My Easter message was a linkage between our deepest questions about finding who we are and the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.
Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. (Luke 24:12a)
unbelievable words move me,
send my heart shivering.
could this be what He meant,
or is it the nonsense of grieving hearts?
in that reeling moment,
suddenly i am running to the tomb,
leaning in, and looking at the
empty linen strips.
His body gone, but no angels for me;
none for me who left Him to die.
i feel so alone and confused,
like a soul in exile from the world.
what can all this mean?
what did Jesus mean?
were these all unbelievable words?
[This is the eighth in a group of original poems composed for Holy Week.]
On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. (Luke 24:1)
the first day:
walking with heavy loads and burdened hearts
to the place His breathless body lay.
every hour seemed so still
since that dark day.
but now, the first day:
their hesitating procession to the tomb
finds the place, but not Him;
and aching emptiness
meets anger’s anxiety.
yet, on the first day
two men send shivers of loud light
mingled with a message:
‘He’s alive like a new day’s dawning!’
and they remember His words.
this first day is the third day
that sends the dark day running.
[This is the seventh in a group of original poems composed for Holy Week.]