Take Up Your Cross

Background Passage: Mark 8:31-37

Passing a large church in the Philippines several years ago, a pastor from the United States spotted a number of vendors selling incense, candles, veils and rosaries. That’s not really what caught his attention.

His eyes were drawn to two young boys running through the crowd selling small wooden crosses. Hawking their goods with enthusiasm, he heard them calling, “Crosses!. Cheap crosses for sale! Buy a cheap cross!”

It’s a painful reality, isn’t it? That’s exactly what many of us do. We want a cheap cross, one that demands little of us. All celebration and no commitment.

The cross of Christ was no cheap cross. It came at an unbelievable cost as a ransom for my sin…and yours.

Jesus and his disciples just returned from a staff retreat in Caesarea Philippi where Jesus earnestly began teaching them about the role God sent him to play. When Peter, in a moment of clarity, declared that Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ, God’s Anointed One, he got the title right. Despite his confession, he and the others still failed to understand exactly what that meant.

From that moment on, Jesus spoke more plainly to them about the suffering that was to come. Mark records the moment.

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priest and teachers of the law, and then he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. (Mark 8:31-32)

Peter missed the whole point of the lesson learned in Caesarea Philippi. Comfortable in his preconceived notions about what a Messiah should look like and how a Messiah should act, he pulled Jesus aside and fussed at him for saying anything contrary to his idea of a political deliverer. “This is not the way to win friends and influence people, Jesus.”

Peter’s response must have broken Jesus’ heart. Jesus glanced back at the disciples who still looked a little shellshocked at Jesus’ description of the work ahead and then at Peter’s “better listen to me” scowl. The whispered rebuke to his strongest disciple must have pierced Peter’s heart.

But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! he said. “You do not mind the things of God, but the things of men!” (Mark 8:33)

After a brief standoff, Jesus shook his head and sauntered back to the crowd that stood nearby. After a glance back at his disciples to make sure they were paying attention, Jesus laid his heart open for all to see.

If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whomever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? (Mark 34-37)

Jesus seemed to tell them, “You call me Messiah, but have no clue what it means for me or for you…let me be clear.” Don’t you imagine the words he preached burned like hot coals into the core of Peter’s soul!

I can see Jesus looking straight into Peter’s eyes when he started his message. “If anyone would come after me…” These words speak to a decision point. More literally in the Greek, the phrase suggests, “to come to a point of being with…”

Jesus is telling them if you’re truly with me, if you’re going to walk with me, if that’s what you decide to do, then understand clearly the price you must pay.

When Jesus talks about denying oneself, he speaks of changing out one’s selfish heart with one that looks toward a greater good. Understanding what God needs you to do and not getting in his way. Moving away from being served toward serving.

You see, Peter’s picture of the Messiah was drastically different than the one Jesus was painting. The path he thought he was following far different from the one for which Jesus was preparing Peter and the rest of the disciples.

To deny oneself is to realize life is no longer all about me. No longer about my personal agenda. It is about the one to whom I belong. It’s about my service to others. It is about losing myself in Christ. It’s about allowing God to work in and through the gifts he gave me so Christ is revealed in me. Giving God custody and control of my life.

Paul hinted at this when he said, “…You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your body.” (I Corinthians 6:19-20)

To take up one’s cross conjured up a horrific image within the context of those first century, would-be disciples. The cross stood as Rome’s unique and cruel form of public punishment and humiliation designed to keep the population in check. Its brutality was on display for all to see.

Undoubtedly, almost all, if not all, of those present that day with Jesus had witnessed its barbarity on display. They clearly understood the implications of what Jesus demanded of them.

If you make the decision to be with me, you must be prepared to give your life for my sake. There is nothing cheap about this cross. It was a cost too many, even in Jesus’ day, were unprepared to pay.

I think of the rich, young ruler who chased Jesus down and honestly shared his faithfulness to the teachings of scripture and his devotion to prayer and the slew of good thing he did for others. Jesus looked in his heart and saw that his lifestyle consumed him. Jesus suggested that if this rich, young man wanted to come with Jesus, he had to give up the lifestyle he enjoyed. (Matthew 19:16-22)

I think of the three men who came to Jesus while he was traveling, pledging to follow him wherever he went. The first turned back when he discovered the Jesus life would be a bit uncomfortable. The second man wanted to wait until his father died. The third man just needed a bit more time with his family and friends. (Luke 9:57-62)

Each in their own way threw up obstacles that prevented them from committing their all to Jesus. The cost of discipleship was too steep. It wasn’t a cheap cross then and it isn’t any less expensive today.

I’ve heard some trivialize this passage by interpreting the cross as some burden they have to bear…a physical illness, a soured relationship, a thankless job. It becomes little more than some aspect of life that is little more than a symbolic annoyance.

To the first century follower of Christ to take up the cross expressed the willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice for the cause of Christ. It didn’t mean everyone who followed Christ would die on the cross, but it meant a full surrender to that possibility. To give your life completely to him.

Jesus certainly understood the cost as he agonized over it in the Garden of Gethsemane. As he endured its painful reality at Calvary. But, when Jesus spoke the words, asking us to take up our cross, I believe Jesus thought less about the dying and more about surrendering. Yielding to whatever God asked of him. Asking us to yield to whatever God asks of us.

You can’t do that with a divided heart, holding on to a distorted or watered down version of what following Christ means. We must submit our hearts absolutely and without reservation to the call of Christ. It is a call of self-sacrifice and surrender. Paul called it “dying to self.”

Look how Jesus described the cross-bearing life in Luke 8:35. He said we gain life in all its abundance and fullness when we lose or surrender our lives to “me and to the gospel.” Absolute devotion to Christ and to the sharing of the gospel, the good news, of the grace offered through Jesus.

The questions Jesus then posed to the crowd conveyed the seriousness of that decision.

What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or, what can a man give in exchange for his soul?

The ancient Hebrew viewed the soul as the entire inner nature of man, the eternal and imperishable essence of every being. Based on our faith commitment to Christ it is that part of us that endures in the everlasting presence of God or separated from him for all eternity.

The passage ends with the consequence of the choice we make when we don’t take up the cross. We could gain all there is to gain in this world…all its wealth and power…all its beauty and bounty…yet when we die, we’ll find our souls outside the eternal presence of God, unable to share in his glory for all time.

Jesus said even if we gained the wealth of the whole world, it would not be enough to purchase what Jesus so freely gave.

Late in the nineteenth century, Justin Van DeVenter struggled with the decision to leave his teaching career and enter the ministry. He describes a pivotal turning point in his life when he gave in to God’s call.

“A new day was ushered into my life,” said Van DeVenter. “I discovered deep down in my soul a talent hitherto unknown to me. God had hidden a song in my heart and, touching a tender chord, caused me to sing.”

It was a song that would profoundly influence Billy Graham’s early ministry. I suspect his words touched many of us as well.

All to Jesus I surrender;
All to him I freely give.
I will ever love and trust him,
In his presence daily live.
I surrender all.
I surrender all.
All to thee my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

Jesus calls us to take up our cross. To do so means surrendering all to him. I’d like to say I do that every day, but I don’t. It’s easier to hide behind an obstacle, make an excuse or convince myself that I know better. I’ll surrender some things but hold tightly to others.

Then, I hear those words again. “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, but forfeit his soul?” The answer is clear. No good at all. The cross is not cheap.

Let’s allow that old hymn resonate knowing full well the cost.

All to Jesus I surrender.

I surrender all.

In the Potter’s Hands

Background Passages: Jeremiah 18:1-6; 2 Chronicles 1:7,10; Luke 22:42 Ephesians 2:10

A confluence of disconnected spiritual thoughts joined into one idea this week…rivulets of scripture and song flowing from different places to form one lesson, one powerful reminder of what it means to live a life obedient to God’s will. See if you can follow the path of my warped mind.

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Sunday’s Random Thought…

It came to mind again this week when I was lost in thought while exercising. Out of nowhere, I thought of the song, Have Thine Own Way, by Adelaide Pollard. The lines that kept repeating in my head were:

“Have Thine own way, Lord.
Have Thine own way.
Thou art the potter,
I am the clay.
Mold me and make me,
after thy will,
while I am waiting,
yielded and still.”

It seems that after graduating from college in Boston, Pollard moved to Chicago to teach in a girl’s school there. In frail health, she was drawn to first a faith healer and then to an evangelist who preached only about the end times and the second coming of Christ.

She moved back to New England feeling called to be a missionary in Africa. A series of health setbacks, detours and roadblocks derailed her plans. Despondent, she attended a prayer meeting one evening and heard an elderly woman pray: “It doesn’t matter what you bring into our lives, Lord, just have your own way with us.”

Before the evening was over, Pollard penned the words to the song that kept repeating in my brain.

“Have Thine own way…mold me and make me…Thou art the potter. I am the clay.”

It is a metaphor not uncommon in scripture. Jeremiah used it to make a point. Paul hinted at it several times in his letters.

Let that tickle the corners of your heart for a bit. We’ll come back to it.

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Tuesday’s Random Thought…

They had been a rebellious people. Having grown indifferent to the covenant they made with God, the people of Israel grew obstinate and defiant toward the word of the Lord. Shedding the commands of God like a dirty cloak, they held God’s law in contempt, comfortable doing their own thing.

God called them “stiff-necked.” Stubborn. Intractable. Hard to lead.

I find the term descriptively appropriate to my life at times. “Stiff-necked” was a term intimately familiar to the Jewish people. Most farmed small plots to feed their families and livestock. With oxen to pull the plow, they used an ox-goad, a pointed stick or metal rod to poke the ox to direct its path. The stubborn or stiff-necked ox would ignore the prod and go where it wanted to go.

The Hebrew people lived a roller coaster life of obedience and stubbornness. This was one of those moments at the bottom of the ride. God called Jeremiah to give a word of warning to his stiff-necked people.
Weary of their rebelliousness, God told Jeremiah to “go to the potter’s house” and wait for his word. Jeremiah sat down beside the potter and watched him work the wheel.

“But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as it seemed best to him.” Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, “Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does? Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel.” (Jeremiah 18:1-6)

I like that idea. When I am misshapen, God can form me into another pot as it seems best to him.

Let that germinate in your fertile soil for a little while.

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Thursday’s Random Thought…

The day had been a glorious day. Jesus’ entry into the City of David found him surrounding by an adoring multitude, waving palm branches and singing praises. They wanted nothing more than to be near the one who had done so many miraculous things. Jesus spent the day preaching and teaching all who would listen.

After an evening meal that left his closest followers bewildered and perplexed, Jesus took them back out of the city into the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. Settling his weary band of disciples onto the rocky hillside, Jesus took a handful of his closest friends a little farther up the hill. “Come, pray with me,” he implored them.

Jesus walked a few steps away before falling on his knees. Leaning against a boulder with his head searching the heavens, Jesus prayed for a way out of the horror that awaited him.

“Father, if you are willing,” he prayed, “let this cup pass from me.”

I can only imagine Jesus recalling Abraham, hovering over his son, Isaac, with a knife prepped and ready to take his life in sacrifice to God. As Jesus recalled how God stayed the hand of Abraham, telling him to find the ram trapped in the thicket as a substitute for his son, I can see Jesus hoping that God would find a ram to take his place.

No new word came from above. No ram in the garden. Jesus, ever obedient to his father, prayed, what Bill Wilson, with the Center for Healthy Churches, calls the “prayer of holy indifference.”

“Yet, not my will, by thine be done.” (Luke 22:42)

Such sweet surrender. A sobering thought for any day. Take a moment. Consider its implications.

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Friday’s Random Thought…

In a recent study of Solomon’s life, we find him taking the reins of leadership from his father David. The task ahead must have seemed daunting. His first official act was to bring the people together to worship. A thousand sacrifices were made. Prayers voiced. Songs played and sung in adoration of their Creator God. Deliverer. Lord Almighty.

God honored Solomon’s worship. That evening he spoke to the new king and offered him a blank check of God’s promise.

“Ask me whatever you want me to give you.” Solomon answered God, “…Give me wisdom and knowledge, that I might lead this people, for who is able to govern this great people of yours.” (2 Chronicles 1:7,10)

God delivered in a significant way. Through his life, Solomon was noted for his wisdom. Scripture tells us kings and queens from all over the known world journeyed to Jerusalem to sit in counsel with the man. To pick his brain.

“All the kings of the earth sought audience with Solomon to hear the wisdom God had put on his heart.” (2 Chronicles 9:23)

Solomon allowed God to teach him. To reveal truth to him. To apply that truth to everyday life. Solomon looked at the world around him and understood how much he did not know about governing…about life…about how to be who God needed him to be. His prayer for wisdom and knowledge reveals his humility before God. In praying for God’s help, he made himself clay in the potter’s hands, a person to be molded and shaped.

Hang on to that bit of wisdom just a moment longer.

……….

There you go. Four seemingly random thoughts entering my brain at different times and for very different reasons. Let me share with you, if I can, where these streams of thought came together.

If I’m honest, I suspect my life is not that different from the lives of those who frustrated God and Jeremiah. One minute faithful. The next minute faithless. One moment seeking God. The next moment scorning God. While I want to believe I live my life more in those faithful, seeking moments, those times when I am faithless and scorning haunt me profoundly. Create more turmoil than necessary.

That’s why I the words of Have Thine Own Way resonate so deeply. Adelaide Pollard nailed it. Despite the turmoil in her life, despite every obstacle that kept her from going where she wanted to go, she penned words that speak to me every time I hear them.

“Thou art the potter. I am the clay.
Mold me. Make me.
After thy will.”

That’s the prayer of one hoping to let go of the arrogance and ignorance that tends to walk it’s own road, unwilling to listen to either the still, small voice or the clap of thunder.

The sweetest times of life come when I make myself pliable enough for God to begin again to shape me into the man he desires me to be. I see myself sitting next to Jeremiah, learning a valuable lesson from the potter. When my life is marred in God’s hands, I am glad he reshapes it as a “another pot,” remolding me in ways that seem “best to him.”

That only happens when let go of my stubborn pride and my stiff-necked attitude.

That’s where I draw inspiration from Solomon. God offered Solomon anything…everything. Yet, Solomon did not ask for riches. He did not ask for possessions or honor. He did not ask for the death of his enemies. He did not ask for a long life.

Solomon asked for God’s wisdom. I shudder to think of my response if I were allowed to rub God’s genie lamp and claim my wish. Seeking God’s will for our lives is the ultimate act of wisdom. Understanding that God’s skill at the potter’s wheel outshines our clumsy attempts to shape our own lives. Think about Pollard’s fervent prayer of submission. Solomon’s humble request for wisdom.

Then, we find ourselves in the Garden of Gethsemane. Listening to Jesus plead for God to find another way that would not take him to the cross. Spending hours agonizing over that which he was called to do.

As he prayed and listened for his Father’s word, he got to a decision point where he could walk on or walk away. His prayer was perfect. A prayer indifferent to his own will and wish. “Not my will, but yours be done.”

In the silence immediately after that prayer, I believe a calm settled in Jesus’ heart. A peace in knowing that if he remained obedient, all would be well. That God’s purpose and plan for his life and for the world, would be satisfied.

So, recognizing my tendency to be stiff-necked when it comes to what God desires of me, I lean upon a song that asks God to mold me, like a potter, after his will, not mine. I seek his wisdom, knowing his understanding far exceeds my limited abilities. When submission and humility united, the prayer of holy indifference is so much easier to pray.

Nevertheless, Father, not my will, but yours be done. weet surrender of one completely in God’s will.

Today’s Last Random Thought…

As I finished this meandering idea, hoping it would make sense, one more verse came to mind. One more random…God-inspired…thought.

Paul, writing to the church in Ephesus, reminded them that the grace gift of salvation that God provided gave them divine purpose. He said,

“We are God’s workmanship, created in Jesus Christ, to do good works, which he determined in advance for us to do.’” (Ephesians 2:10)

The word Paul uses for “workmanship” can be translated “work or art” or “masterpiece.” I like that idea, particularly in light of my other random thoughts.

The potter is also an artist. As capable with a cup as with a sculpture. As the works of God’s hand, carefully shaped and molded into a masterpiece of his will and way, we are called then to do the good work he has planned for us to do. Capable of doing it well. Capable of doing it right. Capable of doing it consistently.

All it required is submission, humility, surrender and the willingness to let the potter work.

Now, you catch a glimpse of how my mind works. I just hope there is a clear message buried in the meandering madness.

What’s In Your Hand?

Background Passages Exodus 4:1-5; Romans 12:6-8; Ecclesiastes 9:10

The bedouin stood on calloused, bare feet with his sandals in his hand, trembling in the glow of the burning bush. Seeing its light. Feeling its heat. Listening to the voice from its flame.

The 80-year-old shepherd heard these words and more…

“I am the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob…I’ve heard the cries of my people…I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people out of Egypt.”

Moses hid in the desert for 40 years after an unceremonious exit from Egypt. Face to face with the oppression of the people of his birth, he reacted in the heat of the moment, killing the offending Egyptian. Once the son of the Pharaoh’s daughter. Now a old man, tending sheep that didn’t even belong to him. O, how the mighty had fallen.

God spoke to Moses on the slopes of Mount Horeb from a burning bush that was not consumed. The God of his fathers called him to a mission of eternal importance. It was the next phase of God’s redemptive plan. To make it happen, he needed to get his people out of Egypt and back to the land he had promised them. He needed Moses.

This unbelievable experience in the wilderness should have lifted his spirits and emboldened Moses to act. Instead, the miracle on the mountain left him filled with anxiety, offering one excuse after another.

“Who am I? I am no one. Pharaoh will not listen. I know the man.”

God said, “Go!”

“To the Hebrew people, I’m nothing. When they ask who sent me…and they will ask…what do I tell them”

“Tell them I am who I am! Now, go!”

“They’re not going to believe this…not the Hebrew people and certainly not Pharaoh.”

God chose this moment to ask Moses a critical question.

“What is in your hand, Moses?”

Moses looked at his right hand. Fingers wrapped around the thick shepherd’s staff, worn smooth by years of use. His mind raced. This was the tool of his trade. A staff for protection. A staff for balance. A staff for herding. Just a stick.

I wonder at that moment if Moses saw a flash of something more ominous in the staff he held. He was once a prince of Egypt. Perhaps, in that moment, the staff served as a symbol of all that had gone wrong in his life. The perfect manifestation of his failure. He had traded a scepter for a shepherd’s crook so he could herd a flock of sheep that weren’t even his. As he heard God ask his question, “What is in your hand?” Perhaps Moses felt unworthy, certain that God could choose a better man.

Moses swallowed the lump in his throat and said simply…

“A staff.”

Nothing more. Nothing less. An old tree branch whittled and shaped to serve his needs. God knew it could represent something new and different. He just needed Moses to see it, too.

“Throw it on the ground, Moses.”

Moses let it drop. As it bounced on the rocky soil, the staff transformed into a snake. Startled, he took two steps back and stared.

“Now, pick it up.”

As soon as Moses lifted the snake from the ground, it turned back into a staff.

Moses looked in awe at the bush.

“This,” said the Lord, “is so that they may believe that the Lord, the God of their fathers…the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob has appeared to you.”

What is in your hand?

What a great question!

I wonder how many of us have starred at the burning bush and heard the voice of God telling us, “I’ve got something I need you to do for me. It’s important. I need you to go….”

I wonder how often you have done what I’ve done and responded immediately with every excuse in the book to avoid doing what God needs us to do. My excuses sound remarkably similar to the ones Moses muttered into the face of a burning bush.

Who am I that you would ask this of me?

  • I’m not capable.
  • I’ve made too many mistakes.
  • I am no longer the man I once was.
  • I’m too old.
  • No one would listen to me.
  • They’re just going to laugh in my face.
  • Find someone else…please.

How like Moses I am at times. Too comfortable in my place. Too embarrassed of my failures. Too willing to believe my mistakes trump my potential. Too unwilling to open myself to God’s transformative power.

Then, the question comes to me just as it came to Moses.

“What’s in your hand?”

When you get down to it, that’s an intriguing question. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s a question we’ve all heard at some point in our lives. When God asks the question, it deserves an honest look.

Scripture is filled with stories of individuals who possessed no extraordinary gifts. That which they held in their hands was ordinary. Yet, God called. When they quit making excuses, God began to use them. Consider these examples.

Gideon defeated the Midianites with trumpets and lanterns.
Samson slaughtered the Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.
David took down Goliath with a sling and a stone.
A child with a small basket of bread and fish fed a multitude.

So I ask again, the burning bush question.

What is in your hand?

One of the greatest mistakes we make as believers in Christ is to underestimate who we are and what we have. We hold an old whittled stick…an ability to carry a tune, the skill to bake a cake, the temperament for a kind word, the sensitivity to encourage a troubled soul. Yet, we deem it insufficient, weak, small in comparison to abilities we see in others.

Then, the excuses flow. Maybe, it doesn’t matter as much exactly what is in our hand. Maybe all that really matters is, as one writer said, “how much God is in your stick.”

And, there’s the lesson Moses learned. As long as you hold on to your stick, God can’t demonstrate his power. You’ve got to throw it down. Let it go. Surrender it to God. Once God is in it, his power flows through it.

Then, your ability to carry a tune inspires. Your skill in baking brings comfort. Your kind word changes another person’s outlook on the day. Your encouragement lifts a burden from a neighbor’s shoulders. There is nothing insufficient, weak or small about that.

Whatever is in your hands, when surrendered to God, gets infused with his power that makes a difference. And, people will see what is in your hand and know that God is present in your life.

So, what is in your hand?

The truth is, I can’t tell you. It is a matter between you and God. But, know this. There is something there. God has put something in your hand. It may look ordinary to you, but it was given to you for a purpose. He has gifted all of us, placed something in our hand, to use toward the glory of his kingdom.

Whatever God has placed in our hands we are to use it. Paul wrote about it extensively.

“We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance to your faith. If it is serving, then serve. If it is teaching, then teach. If it is to encourage, then give encouragement. If it is in giving, then give generously. If it is to lead, do it diligently. If it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully.” (Romans 12:6-8)

I don’t know what your gift may be, but it does no one any good if you never use it. Each of us has been gifted by God so he can send us wherever he needs us to go. To do what he needs us to do. When we surrender that gift to God, when we throw it down, God’s power is alive through us.

Whatever your hand finds to do; do it with all your might. (Ecclesiastes 9:10)

An unknown poet penned a bit of prose a few years ago entitled, “It Depends Whose Hands It’s In.” It’s not Shakespeare or Byron, but it holds a pretty good message. This is how it starts off.

“A basketball in my hands is worth about $19
A basketball in Michael Jordan’s hands is worth about $33 million.
It depends whose hands it’s in.”

As one who has missed his share of lay-ups, I ask you…

What is in your hand?