Beneath the Cross of Jesus...

Come and sit with me at the foot of the Cross for a few minutes.  It's a peaceful place-- a place where we come to realize that there was never anything to worry about in the first place.  We can sit here with Jesus amidst the weeds of our lives and just ... be.  And it's ok.


This next week is a week of remembering Jesus' path to the Cross.  We remember His resolute journey.  Luke says, "He turned His face to Jerusalem".  He knew where He was going and why, and He did not turn away.  


Jesus calls us to not "turn away" from ourselves.  Just has He had to deal with fear and dread as He walked obediently toward His death, He calls us to continue, unflinching, in our quest for the whole self He made us to be.


Last week we talked about the Shadow Self in each of us--the hidden parts of our hearts represented by the low scores on our Myers Briggs tests.  I have been meditating on my hidden places.  None of them is as extreme as my inclination to Introversion--a 12/3 split!
Until we talked about the Shadow, it had been easy for me to tell myself that this was just the way God had made me, and I should just revel in my introversion.  And while it is true that God has ordained all of my days, and I have come to this moment in life by way of a path that He set before me, there remains much of who I was created to be that is hidden, so many of my human capacities that have been repressed by my own trespasses, and by those who have trespassed against me.  There is so much more to me than even I know, and God seems to be inviting me to take a peek at what has been hiding in the secret corners of my heart.


After all, I hid those things away because I needed to protect myself.  Wasn't I within my rights to keep to myself the things I felt others would take from me?  Why should I voice my opinions and needs only to have them laughed at, or shushed by others?  If I just kept my own council, it wasn't as risky.


But now I see that not only was I hiding what was important to me from others around me, I began to hide from God as well.  If you don't speak the things in your heart, then no one can pronounce them 'wrong'--not even God.  Even if they actually are wrong...  And by keeping to myself, I have allowed myself the luxury of believing I am right, and of believing that I am hiding, even from God, the sin that is in my heart.  When I am by myself, I am not vulnerable, but neither am I available to God or to others.  To isolate myself keeps me from ministering to others.  When Adam hid in the Garden, he was no longer about to tend it.


God has called me to teach, to exhort.  He has also called me to be taught and exhorted by the Body of Christ.  None of that can take place when I isolate myself.


For Lent this year I gave up Self-Neglect in an effort to practice healthy Self-Care--eating well, sleeping enough, exercising, spending time with God and others.  I see now that isolating myself is actually a form of Self-Neglect.  In Christ my identity is secure, regardless of the opinions  or manipulations of others.  I need not be afraid of being over-taken by another as I was as a child.  God is calling me to step out in faith, to initiate contact with others, to make myself available to the Holy Spirit in a new way this year.  It's time to pick up my Cross and follow Jesus to Golgotha.  It's time to set aside the old person, and put on the new.  To lay aside my Shadow in order to stand in His.


If I must hide, Lord, let me hide myself in Thee.




Beneath the Cross of Jesus

1. Beneath the cross of Jesus 

 I fain would take my stand, 
 the shadow of a mighty rock 
 within a weary land; 
 a home within the wilderness, 
 a rest upon the way, 
 from the burning of the noontide heat, 
 and the burden of the day. 

2. Upon that cross of Jesus 
 mine eye at times can see 
 the very dying form of One 
 who suffered there for me; 
 and from my stricken heart with tears 
 two wonders I confess: 
 the wonders of redeeming love 
 and my unworthiness. 

3. 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 nor loss, 
 my sinful self my only shame, 
 my glory all the cross. 

Text: Elizabeth C. Clephane, 1830-1869 
Music: Frederick C. Maker, 1844-1927 
Tune: ST. CHRISTOPHER, Meter: 76.86.86.86

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