This is a bit off topic for what I usually write about here, but I’m the author and it’s my prerogative to do that from time to time. You’ve probably heard in the last few weeks about issues with Facebook and privacy. Then users rose up and declared a mass Facebook exodus on May 31. Then Facebook said, “We’re going to simplify privacy options.” Then the whole thing hit the cover of Time. Now tonight, it’s been revealed that Facebook (and many other social networking sites) have accidentally been releasing personally identifiable information to advertisers. It’s all been a giant mess which have resulted in tons of complaints, Facebook/Twitter posts, news articles, and more.

Through all of this, however, I’ve kept my Facebook privacy settings pretty open–mostly anyone can read my posts. Now only friends and such can see my most personal information, but if you want to see a picture of me or see what I’m up to, you can. Most people think I’m crazy for this–they say there’s some things on Facebook they’d like to keep private, and that Facebook’s constant changes makes it too hard for them to do it. Others say that Facebook is pushing us to share everything.

What we forget often, however, is that the Internet is an innately open, public place. It was designed as such. Anyone desperate enough can find out any information about you they’d like, really. We can create semblances of privacy, but the reality is that the web is open, and no one can change that. Even some of the world’s most secure government computers have security breaches from time to time. In an open environment, privacy is lost.

Image from Flickr user chooyutshing

It’s helpful for me to picture the Internet like a glass house. You can choose to have your windows wide open, closed, or barred, but it’s still glass. You might be making it harder to see in, but it’s far from impossible. That’s why my personal online theory is this: I only post things I would want my mom to read. Now admittedly, being friends with your mother on Facebook does help with this. But the principle still stands. If you wouldn’t say it to your mom or wouldn’t show it to a future employer, it doesn’t belong online. Anywhere. No matter how “private” you may have it. Glitches happen. Privacy is violated. You can put bars behind your windows, but they’re still just windows.

My point is this: rather than complaining about privacy, don’t say stupid things online. Don’t put things online you wouldn’t want the whole world to see. I’m not saying privacy breaches are right or OK–not at all. I’m just saying that in an open online world, it will happen. Get used to it, and adjust your behavior online accordingly.

“HE IS RISEN!” Can you imagine the confusion the disciples experienced when Mary came running into the room screaming that? Can you imagine the overwhelming joy they experienced when they discovered it was true? It’s overwhelming to even think about. The disciples had lost all hope, but now they were filled with a “living hope!” Christ was risen!

Exciting though His resurrection was, the promise it is to us is even more exciting. Scripture says:

For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!

-Romans 5:10 (NIV)

Yes, when Christ died, he died to defeat the power of sin one time—enough for all time. He now has a new life, and his new life is with God.

-Romans 6:10 (NCV)

Christ has crushed the power of sin and death for us. No more do we have to live under its power. We have victory over it. Hell couldn’t hold Christ in His tomb. Hell can’t hold you in the tomb of your sin either. The same spirit that empowered Christ’s earthly work empowers you to live a resurrected life of victory over Satan. I don’t know about you, but that makes me pretty excited.

Live this week, this month, this year in his freeing power. Let his spirit set you free from the grip of sin. You can live free. All you have to do is ask.

My favorite song on Easter is the song “In Christ Alone.” I want to leave you with the closing lyrics, but I’d also encourage you to go and find the full song. It’s powerful like you can’t imagine.

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
‘til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand

-Lyrics of In Christ Alone

… In humility count others more significant than yourselves. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God … made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant … by becoming obedient to the point of death.

Selections from Philippians 2:3-9 (ESV)

Yesterday, I focused in on the crushing suffering that Christ endured on the day we now know as Good Friday. Thankfully we know today that that’s not all that was crushed Easter weekend. Today I’m going to focus in on crushed pride.

You see, Christ set an example of humility. He set up a standard so high that few men could ever reach it. The Creator God of the universe made himself nothing. He served. He was obedient. Even to the death. The words of Paul’s Christ-hymn that I’ve quoted above are some, I believe, of the most beautiful words in the entire New Testament. They’re words of humility. Words that speak volumes about what Christ has done for us.

I think some of the greatest messages about humility from the Easter story are the ones that we frequently skip over. They’re the ones that happened on Saturday. It’s a day we kind of ignore in the Easter schedule. But it’s one of the most important when it comes to showing how Christ’s example drove others to humility.

Many of us have heard the Roman centurion’s declaration given post-Christ’s death: “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Mark 15:39, NIV) It’s a beautiful, simple confession. But we don’t always really grasp what a big deal it was for that centurion to make that confession. It required an incredible dose of humility. This man was supposed to be one of the world’s toughest soldiers. He was dedicated to Rome and all things Roman. One of the core Roman beliefs held that the Caesar, the land’s ultimate ruler, was God’s son. He was to be worshipped. For this centurion to say that Christ was the Son of God could quite nearly be considered treason. He was, however, so incredibly moved by the things he had witnessed, so moved by the declaration of humility, that he could do nothing but cry out his adoration for Christ.

The centurion wasn’t the only one who had his pride crushed as part of Christ’s death. So did Joseph of Arimithea, the man who buried Christ. See, Joseph was an incredibly rich man. He was a leader in Jerusalem. He was one of the leaders of the Jewish Council. He wasn’t exactly the kind of man you’d picture playing undertaker. But he was. He humbled himself to apply spices and burial clothes to Christ’s body. He even went so far as to have a new tomb made just for Him. Joseph could have easily hired someone to do this if he wanted it done. He could have ignored it and said “someone else will handle it.” Instead, he chose to humble himself from his high position and prepare Christ for burial. He put his pride behind him and focused instead on what his Savior needed.

So what pride in your life needs crushed? Is it your finances? Your position? Your “poor me” attitude? Something else? Let the power of the Cross crush it this Easter weekend.

Today, as you probably know, is Good Friday, the day when we remember the death and suffering of Christ. For me, “Good” Friday has always felt like a bit of a misnomer. It’s always felt like there wasn’t too much “good” about it. Our Savior was bruised and crushed. What good could come of that?

It’s overwhelming to think what our Savior endured. It all began that Thursday evening when Christ returned from his passionate, pleading prayer with his Father. Someone Christ had placed into his inner circle, one of only 12 in the world, had betrayed him. Turned his back for money. The guards seized him violently and dragged him back into town to appear before the Sanhedrin. Right as He’s entering this, the most difficult period of his earthly existence, the 11 disciples that were left ran away and denied Him. They hid away in locked rooms while their Lord endured a beating at the hands of his fellow countrymen. He was spat upon. Mocked. Beaten. Lied about. All leading to a false conviction. Crushed.

So He was led before the Roman leaders. Again abused and beaten. After some legal wranglings, He was brought before a tribunal of the Roman leader, Pilate, and an angry mob of Jewish people. Pilate’s wife tried to warn him about Christ’s innocence. Pilate tried to get the people to release Jesus. Instead they stood below and screamed “CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!” Pilate, so distraught at what he was about to do, washed his hands to declare his innocence. Then, subjecting himself to the will of the people, sent Christ away for punishment and crucifixion. Christ’s innocence was crushed.

He was led to a whipping yard. Blindfolded and forced to lean over a post, He could see nothing. Suddenly, the area was filled with the CRACK! of the whip coming down. Shards of glass and stone wallowed their way deep into His flesh. Suddenly, the whip was ripped out of his back, snapping connective sinews clean off. Again the yard was filled with the crack of the soldier’s whip. Each successive time hunks of flesh, muscle, and blood came flying off Christ’s back and into the crowd. He was in such suffering and so dismembered he was barely recognizable as human. His body was crushed.

But that wasn’t all that was in store for Christ this day. The soldiers led him away and shoved a crown made of inches-long thorns into Christ’s skull. He cried out in wails of pain as the thorns drove themselves through flesh and bone alike. They mocked him. They cast lots for his clothing. His spirit was crushed.

Appearing as nothing more than a heap of blood and disemboweled flesh, the guards cast a cross over his back and screamed at him to stand up. He carried it oh so short a distance before he collapsed, weakened and exhausted from the grueling punishment he had received. A bystander named Simon was asked to take up that cross and carry it the rest of the way. They soon found themselves atop a hill just outside of the city, known as Golgotha. Here it was that Christ would breathe His last. Simon lay the cross down, and the soldiers threw Christ’s body upon it. They took massive hammers and nails longer than anyone can imagine and drove them through what was left of his hands and feet. Much like the nail pierced Christ’s muscle and bone, Christ’s cries of pain pierced the area nearby. Christ’s life was crushed.

Even in His suffering, the love of Christ was brilliantly displayed through his actions. A thief being crucified next to him asked, and received, Christ’s forgiveness. He wouldn’t save himself. He loved us too much. He even cried out to his Father, that He might forgive those who had done such horrific things to him. Christ’s human body could be crushed, but His love could never be.

Suddenly a wave of darkness swept over the land. For 3 straight hours this enveloping darkness covered all, leaving just the agonized screams of those being crucified to fill the air. At the strike of 3, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” The people whispered and wondered if maybe he was calling Elijah. Suddenly Christ spoke the words, “It is finished,” and breathed his last. All around the city the earth began to quiver and rip open. The curtain in the Temple, the great curtain that separated us from God, ripped in two. Tombs opened up and out walked dead ancestors who entered Jerusalem and spoke with many. Something big had happened. The divide between us and God had been crushed.

Many other things occurred after this. Christ’s Godhood was affirmed. His death was assured. His burial was completed. He had been crushed. So what makes this Friday so “good?” It wasn’t the crushing of Christ. It was the crushing of the divide. It was the crushing of pride. It was the crushing of sin. Our Savior was crushed, out of His mighty love, for you and I. That’s good news.

Unless you’ve been living in a hole for the last few months, you know that Toyota has had to recall millions of vehicles around the world due to mechanical problems. As you may also know, Toyota’s CEO, Akio Toyoda, gave a testimony before the US Congress several weeks ago about the situation. This series is going to feature some quotes from that testimony, and what we, as children’s ministers, can learn from what he had to say. So let’s begin.

I fear the pace at which we have grown may have been too quick.

-Akio Toyoda

In some Christian circles making this statement about any kind of ministry would be condemned as outright sacrilege. Surely if we’re growing it’s a good thing, so let’s just keep doing it! Unfortunately, this can’t always be true.

Businesses know this quite well. Take MySpace for example. They experienced explosive growth and hired a ton of people, but hadn’t planned for long-term success and stability. Now, they’re just a speck on the social media radar. Take Toyota as another example. They rapidly expanded their dealer base across the country and built plants and hired people to support this growth. As a result, they had massively increased sales of their products. However while they may have had more customers and more money rolling in, the company’s structure simply wasn’t ready for such a massive influx.

Churches are especially vulnerable to this. We may suddenly see huge growth in numbers and be simply overjoyed. Growth is good, and a sign of a healthy church. It really is a great thing. The trouble comes when suddenly our children’s ministry, already underfunded and understaffed, has suddenly swollen from 50 kids to 250 kids. What do we do now? We can recruit more volunteers, hire more staff, and throw more money into it, absolutely, but all of those things take time. If we need 50 volunteers next Sunday and we’ve only got 20 right now, you can’t train 30 more people in a week. Money and buildings and staff and volunteers and all of these other things can help, but they don’t get at the root of the problem.

The root is structure. Small churches tend to run like, well, small churches. They are set up structurally to be small for the rest of their existence. Ask any strategic planner and they’ll tell you: that just doesn’t work. You don’t buy a house with 1 bedroom if you’re planning to have 15 kids. Yes, you can remodel and add on, but it’s a messy thing trying to rebuild the proverbial “house” while we’re living inside of it. It may work, but your chances of getting frustrated are so much higher.  Yet ministries who want, someday, to have 5000 members still set up like a ministry with 50 members.

Your church, and especially your children’s ministry, must be structured to grow. Always be prepared for an influx of 25 more kids suddenly. Structure things so that as you grow, you’re simply filling in the structure, not rebuilding it.