IT’S FRIDAY. BUT SUNDAY’S COMING! Beneath the Cross of Jesus

Deeply religious and concerned about others, Elizabeth ministered to the downtrodden in the village of Melrose, where she lived most of her life. She was bright. Clever.  And cheerful. People in the village called her “Sunbeam.”  But Clephane didn’t see herself that way.  She wrote these words:

I take, O cross, thy shadow

For my abiding place;

I ask no other sunshine

Than the sunshine of His face;

Content to let the world go by

To know no gain or loss,

My sinful self my only shame,

My glory all the cross.

No doubt you recognize this verse from the hymn “Beneath the Cross of Jesus.”  It was a poem she wrote in 1868, just one year prior to her death. In the fourth stanza, she said–

And from my stricken heart with tears

Two wonders I confess;

The wonders of redeeming love

And my unworthiness.

Of course, she wasn’t worthy.  But neither are we!  Some come to the foot of the cross sensing their unworthiness.  And others stand there with little sense of what it really means.

Think of the Roman soldiers on that Friday who were literally beneath the cross.  Remember what they were doing?  John records it with vivid detail. 

Then the soldiers, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic. Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece. They said therefore among themselves, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be,” that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says:  

“They divided My garments among them,  And for My clothing they cast lots.”  Therefore the soldiers did these things.  (John 19:23-24)

Think about it!  Casting lots for Christ’s clothes?  Gambling for a few possessions of the Creator?  Playing games while God died?  For them!

What a paradox!  What irony!  What absurdity!

Yet, I wonder how many times we come to a communion service, stand beneath the cross, and find ourselves playing games?  Pretending to be someone we’re not. Playing charades.  Engaging in gossip.  Playing hide and seek from God.

Silly games. Childish games.   Games of chance.

I’ve seen two men come to the foot of the cross who weren’t speaking to each other.  One leading singing.  The other leading in prayer.   I’ve witnessed women standing beneath the cross angry at others.  Bitter toward a spouse.  Unforgiving of some sister’s slight.

It is possible preachers would stand beneath the cross and waste time on “bible trivia” while people’s lives are falling apart?  Or Shepherds would worry more about “paving the parking lot” than watching for souls?  Or worship leaders who throw together a service with little thought to the content or the occasion?

Are we “Friday’s soldiers” standing beneath the cross gambling?  Gambling our souls?  Seeking status instead of sanctification?  Running after riches instead of righteousness?  Pursuing pleasure instead of God’s purpose?

Do pet-peeves bother us more than lost souls?  Has tradition replaced Truth? Have customs taken precedence over Christ?  The cross?  The true nature of His church?

Grown men gambling for Jesus’ garments.  Unbelievable!  And all the while as he looked down dying for them.  The games Christians play today.  More unbelievable!  And the Lord looks on.

Just remember.  It may be Friday.  But Sunday’s coming!

–Ken Weliever, The Preacherman