My brother gave me a rugged, splintered miniature replica of a cross years ago. It was the closest thing that I have ever imagined the cross of Jesus looking like. I am sad to say it finally fell apart. I wish I still had that cross.
Pictures of various crosses show up in my camera lens from time to time. All a reminder of that day so long ago. That day which the innocent Lamb was sacrificed. The Perfect Sacrifice. Sacrificed for all sin. Behold the cross.
Some are rugged, others are simple, others are used as prominent pieces to display. All remind of what put Jesus on His cross. My sin.
A friend asked what our favorite part of the Easter story is. I didn’t answer but have since given it some thought. It is difficult to say “favorite” with this. Because it is messy. It is hard. It is ugly. But yet wonderfully beautiful. It is my Jesus, taking the penalty I deserve. He lifted all of the wrath of God off me and placed it on Himself. He clothed me in robes of righteousness that I can’t deserve or earn. He redeemed me. He took my sin and confronted hell on my behalf. So my “favorite?” The fact that my sin did that to Him? That the wretched condition of me required His perfect sacrifice. His body and blood given to cover my sin. Wrapped and dissolved and resolved my sin in His robe of righteousness. And invites me to abide in Him. That He allows me, even invites me eagerly, to come to the foot of His cross and be washed in His blood and He then is willing to abide in me is my favorite!
For years, I have been opposed to using a cross as decor or adornment. It just felt trite. I couldn’t bring myself to use the horrible, ugly thing that hung my Savior in His bloody state for His death as fashion accessory or wall hanging or part of my landscaping. Those that are used as adornment are clean and shiny, which is completely contradictory to the cross I think of that belonged to Jesus.
He received the beating I deserve.
He endured in my place.
He gave His life, willingly, so I could live.
This year, as I read “It Is Finished” by Charles Martin, I started seeing my stance a little differently. I have always looked to the cross of Christ as a reminder of Him and what He did for me. Every time I see a cross I remember His sacrifice. Knowing each day, every moment, brings new opportunities to find myself back at the foot of His Cross.
“And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. Matthew 10:38 (NASB)
And what about mine? My sufferings cannot compare to the cross Jesus endured on my behalf. But when I take and wear prominently my cross, speaking for all to see, not for some exaggerated spectacle of attention, but instead, representing my cross for Him. Taking any sufferings, rejection, ridicule, disrespect, anything, knowing my temporary afflictions will no longer exist once I see Him face to face. Pointing always to His cross as the moment hell’s fury was extinguished for me. I will take my cross and follow Him.
I will accept it. I will display it. I will wear it. I will own it. It is mine. I will take it and follow Him.
Do you have a cross? Do you wear it? Is it a load you bear that keeps you frozen in anguish at times? Do you find yourself confused about situations and uncertain as to how to handle them? Are you mistreated? Does your stance on life bring ridicule from others? Are you teased? Are eyes rolled when you speak? Are you rejected?
Pick it up. Carry it to the foot of His cross. Look on His affliction. Consider your sin that placed Him on that cross. Consider that sin that caused Him to be forsaken by His Father. Consider Him, who never sinned, going to hell for those sinners that will look to Him for redemption. Consider looking to Him for salvation.
And then imagine each drop of blood washing multitudes clean of sin. Purified. Made righteous through the blood from the body of Christ.
And accept it. Accept His finished work on the cross as He continues to work in you.
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