FOLLOW THE CROSS BEARER

And he bearing his cross went forth. . . (John 19:17).

“I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV.” The speaker wears the white jacket of a physician. From the TV screen he speaks very personally about some health issue. It has come to be an accepted practice, and research suggests that many of us are gullible enough to buy a product relating to our health, based on his word. We take the word of an actor who plays the part of a doctor. It seems a little strange, but why else would coldly calculating manufacturers spend cold cash promoting their product this way?

This same script played out a few years back, during the expose of some of TV’s more famous Celestial Celebrities. “I’m not a pastor, but I play one on TV” became a favorite line for impressionists. There was much public concern over the flamboyant performers who purported to represent God’s church; and, yes, they had their constituents. But did people writing in and sending financial pledges involve them as participants in a meaningful New Testament fellowship? No, I don’t think so! In fact, some called it an outright scam. Others claimed it missed the mark and perverted the truth.

There is yet a further amending of this line, one that suggests further scripting with another slant. This one says, “I’m not a Christian, but I play one on TV.” Pierre Van Paassen’s gripping story “The Days of Our Years” pursued a line similar to this script.

The story shows us Ugolin, the Hunchback, becoming seriously ill. Physically deformed, social deprived, Ugolin never knew his father, and his mother was an alcoholic and an outcaste. Solange, Ugolin’s sister, loved her brother so much that she sold her body to buy the medicine Ugolin needed. On the other hand, the community discussed this scandalous behavior until it drifted back to Ugolin. Consequently, he drowned himself in the river. When Solange heard what he did, she gave way to angry despair and took her own life.

“Christians,” challenged the village priest at the funeral service; “Christians, when the Lord of life and death shall ask me on the Day of Judgment, ‘Where are thy sheep?’ I will not answer Him.”

Using his verbal whip a second time, the offended pastor declared, “When the Lord asks me the second time, ‘Where are thy sheep?’ I will not yet answer Him.”              

Again, he responds, “But when the Lord shall ask me a third time, ‘Where are thy sheep?’ I shall hang my head in shame and I will answer Him, ‘They were not sheep, Lord, they were a pack of wolves.’”

We do not follow Jesus very far without discovering that he walked the way of a cross bearer. Christianity is not a coat of arms that we put on and take off. It is not a marketing strategy that creates a desired effect, whatever the mirage or however illusory. Christianity is not calculated packaging guaranteed to sell a lifestyle image that somehow always manages to include being highly successful in our personal achievements. Nor, is Christianity a piece of jewelry we wear that protects us from bad things happening to us, like a good luck charm.

Jesus came proclaiming and modeling a lifestyle of “peace on earth among men of good will,” a simple--but integrity filled-- “what you see is what you get.” In spite of his exemplary model of simplicity, love, integrity, self-denial, and cross bearing, we do not follow him far without realizing that not everyone who wears a cross follows Jesus in living the life of cross bearing. 

I often wear a cross on my coat lapel or around my neck. On occasion, I have asked another person wearing a cross on their clothing, “Why are you wearing that?” I find it interesting that frequently it is simply a decorative item, a piece of jewelry they wear for the outward enhancement. Although my question sometimes flusters people, they seldom admit to living the life of a cross bearer, although they occasionally admit to being a Christian.

As only one follower of Jesus, I follow him because he wore his cross on his back and not on his coat lapel. He came teaching his followers to live their lives “simply,“ explaining, “let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes, ‘ and your ‘No’ be ‘No.’” To this he added, “anything beyond this comes from the evil one” (Matthew 5:37). In following his footsteps through life, I find he went out to the Place of the Skull carrying his own cross. (John 19:17). 

These things assure me that how he played the game on the playing field of life matched the game he talked. He was a cross-bearer, not simply someone playing the part to influence me. Following him always involves cross bearing (Matthew 16:24). Yet, the further I follow him, I find that when he teaches his followers about cross bearing, there are those who fail to take him seriously and tell him the cross simply isn’t necessary (Matthew 16:21-23).

In that instance, Peter saw no more need for Jesus becoming a cross-bearer than the villagers in Van Paassen’s story saw any need to risk condoning the scandal of a family that fell between the cracks as needy neighbors.

George MacLeod recasts the story of Jesus in terms of the cross and argues “that the cross be raised again at the center of the marketplace as well as on the steeple of the church.” He insists this is necessary and that he is only “recovering the claim that Jesus was not crucified in a cathedral between two candles, but on a cross between two thieves.”

Reminding us of that terrible place where Jesus was crucified, MacLeod challenges us to look beyond our lovely sanctuary cross, our glamorous jewelry, and our Madison Avenue marketing of upward mobility and get in touch with the real world. The place where Jesus died was at “the town garbage heap, at a crossroad so cosmopolitan they had to write his title in Hebrew and in Latin and in Greek.” He further described it as “the kind of place where cynics talk smut, and thieves curse, and soldiers gamble,” concluding, “that is what he died about. And that is where churchmen ought to be, and what churchmen should be about.”

Jesus carried a cross on his back when he died, although some tell us he could have called a legion of angels to his defense. The way of cross bearing beckons us to follow him, but then we discover he carried his own weight. He was not a Movie Hero, playing the leading role while a professional stunt man did the dangerous stuff. He didn’t simply go in, drive out the moneychangers from the Temple grounds, and make a political statement; he became the sacrifice through his own death.               

The author of the Book of Hebrews caught a personal glimpse of what Jesus was really about and announced, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (12:2). Viewing this scene from a later perspective, George Bennard, the Methodist evangelist-hymn writer, felt the staggering weight, and penned this testimony,

              Oh, that old rugged cross so despised by the world,
             Has a wondrous attraction for me;

              For the dear Lamb of God left his glory above,
              To bear it to dark Calvary.

Jesus’ death allowed God to use that death as a uniquely sacrificial ministry to humanity. As Peter explained on the Day of Pentecost, “Jesus of Nazareth … accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs … was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men put him to death by nailing him to the cross … But God ... raised this Jesus to life, and we are all witnesses of the fact … and has poured out what you now see and hear” (Acts 2:22-24, 32-33).

George Morrison of Glasgow reminds us, “there is one argument that stands unshaken through every age and every generation - it is the triumphant argument of the Cross of Christ.”

In spite of widening knowledge, deepening thoughts, and changing theories, Morrison argues, “yet in the very Centre, unshaken and unshakeable, stands Calvary, the lasting commendation of the love of God.”

Morrison’s reminder reflects the ignominious weight of the sin that brought sorrow to God, killed the Christ, and warped humanity. It is the asserting of an omnipotent self regardless of principles or persons that warps and deranges the spirit of humanity, rather than the circumstances in which people find themselves. It encourages people to pay exorbitant prices for cheap thrills, often defiling the chastity of innocent children, making mockery of womanhood, ignoring the needs of the world’s children, and making animals out of men.

This self-seeking drives individuals toward drunkenness, debauchery, and self-righteousness, all in the name of pleasure. It is a human nature perverted toward creating conditions that escalate wars and rumors of wars into World Holocaust, Middle East Holy Wars between Jehovah and Allah, and ethnic cleansings in Eastern Europe and central Africa.

Calvary, the place where Jesus died, became a signal light marking an all-important intersection for the tourists traveling between the City of God and the World Metropolis. It catches our attention, making us suddenly aware of the fast-moving traffic going through the intersection. It helps us avoid a terrible collision at an intersection we have taken for granted or simply ignored.

In time, Jesus’ disciples were transformed by the events following Calvary. Aroused by new awareness and greater sensitivity, they took up their own crosses. Personally following the Jesus-way of cross bearing, they made their way onto the highways and bi-ways of Europe, Asia, and Africa. They went as God‘s called out ones, the Ecclesia, described in the New Testament as the church.

 But we do not follow the cross-bearer far without learning that his church was not intended as a cold storage plant for the permanent preservation of biblical saints, or a locker plant to preserve them from spoiling. It was never intended to become a private club, offering exclusive memberships in a self-perpetuating world-class country club. It came into being helping people live better lives, beginning with those to whom Jesus ministered and continuing through the servant ministries of his disciples and their descendants.

True church members lose themselves in service to a hurting humanity, people who so desperately need healing--like the abused-lost child in their midst. Not really a resident hospital, the church serves as an emergency room ministering to the spiritually sick and the morally anemic. It offers more than a gymnasium for bodybuilding classes; it assists all manner of people in every kind of circumstance to develop moral and ethical muscles.

The church provides workers mountain-top-moments of vital inspiration--friendly, evangelistic, missionary, and enthusiastic. Representing the Spirit of That One who went about doing good; the church follows Jesus in cross bearing by taking up the challenges of ministry and servanthood.

Judith Harvey told of a Hoosier congregation faced with the task of putting a large cross into place on their new church structure. The cross arrived safely, complete with a figure of Christ on it. However, they had ordered only the cross, without the Christ. The job needed to be completed the same afternoon it arrived, but the additional figure on it made it too heavy for them to put it into place. No one knew how to resolve the dilemma.

When the person in charge finally returned, the cross was already up, leaving only the question of how they did it. The answer is revealing: “We could not lift it with the figure of the dead Christ on it; but when we took him off, the cross was easy to lift.”

Simply put, that describes the superficial kind of Christianity that is worn on the lapel and sung about in the sanctuary, that becomes a baptized sociology that is nice enough, but lacking the power to influence life any more than a political rally during a presidential election.

On the other hand, there are people out there in the real world like Wisedpong, a young Thai. Growing up in Thailand among the wealthy, his upper class parents urged him to educate himself and become wealthy. That only brought the confused young Buddhist to a dead-end in life. He had come to America seeking “the meaning of life.”

Trying to follow his parent’s advice, he admitted, “I started to realize that a good career and good money did not bring happiness, so I quit my job.” Next, he entered a Buddhist monastery, but within six months he realized, “no matter how hard I tried, it was not enough.” Disillusioned, he left the monastery and returned to business. His search now took him to Edmonds, Oklahoma in search of an MBA degree at Central State University.

His family stayed in close touch with him, writing almost every day, urging him to return and take over the family business. However, while still pursuing his degree, he met Dan, a Christian Minister to international students. With the help of a gospel tract he learned the way of salvation and he and his wife accepted Christ into their lives.

Wisedpong later began to feel God calling him. About that time, he met the pastor of a Thai-Lao-Cambodian Mission church. There, he saw Christianity expressed in his own Thai culture. Finding his call from God confirmed, he entered seminary, gained invaluable experience in an area Lao-Cambodian congregation, and made plans to return to Thailand as a bi-vocational pastor using his background in business and Buddhism to reach his Thai people for Christ,

It was H. L. Mencken, the Baltimore editor-atheist who charged religious people with caring nothing about the truth as long as they retain a “hopeful and pleasant frame of mind.” There is much in the religious world that offers people a positive attitude and outlook. Anyone, who knows anything at all about Christianity, knows it represents a viewpoint geared toward positive thinking. However, anyone who truly understands what Christianity is all about would never put his foot in his mouth by charging the Christian Church with being simply a society for positive thinkers.

What Mencken really rejected was the dark side of human nature that the “hopeful and pleasant frame of mind” attempts to ignore. It is in the cross that we see man’s dark side, for that is where we come to understand that man is never so vile as when trying to disguise and deny his evil nature. This is what took Jesus to the cross. We never saw it so clearly, yet we make our way through life like the tourist at Oberammergau.

This American businessman witnessed the Passion Play and was enthralled by the dramatic depiction of the story of the cross. Rushing backstage, he met Anton Lang who played the part of Christ. Stopping abruptly, he snapped Mr. Lang’s picture with his expensive equipment, much to Lang’s discomfort.

“Here dear, you take my picture,” he said as he saw the cross. “I’m going over and lift up the cross. When I get it up on my shoulder, you snap my picture carrying the cross,” he added, concluding, “Won’t that be a novel and exciting picture to send home to our friends in America.”

Seeing Mr. Lang frown severely, the tourist added, “You don’t mind do you, Mr. Lang?”       “This is very unusual …” but before he could finish the thought, the tourist hurriedly attempted to lift the cross and was unable--made of heavy iron-oak beams of two hundred pounds.

Puffing with amazement, the visitor turned to Lang, saying “Why I thought it would be light. I thought the cross was hollow. Why do you carry a cross that is so terribly heavy?”

Anton Lang, drawing himself to his full height, replied with compelling dignity and a bit of rebuke, “Sir, if I did not feel the weight of His cross, I could not play His part” (Let There Be Light/Fleming Revell Co./Benjamin P. Browne).

Whatever one may believe about the teachings of Jesus Christ, the seven last words he uttered at that epochal event of the cross climaxed a life in which he lived as no one else ever lived and his words impact our lives as no other words ever spoken. As I look about today, it is a day not unlike the day the Senator, the Clergyman, and the Boy Scout became fellow travelers on a small charter plane. When they developed an engine problem the pilot announced, “We’ll have to bail out.”

“Unfortunately,” he added, “there are only three parachutes. I have a wife and seven small children. My family needs me, and I’m taking one of the parachutes.” Having said that, he bailed out.

“I’m the smartest politician in the world,” suggested the Senator. “The country needs me; I’m taking one of the parachutes.” And, he jumped.

“I’ve had a good life,” said the Clergyman to the Boy Scout, “and yours is still ahead of you. You take the last parachute.”

“Don’t need to,” shrugged the youth. “There are still two parachutes left. The smartest politician in the world jumped with my knapsack.”

Humorous, yes. Funny, no! It is obvious to most of us that someone may be a smart politician, a Wall Street Broker, or any great power broker, but when you parachute you need more than a knapsack! And since September eleven an increasing number of people want something more spiritually secure when they do find it necessary to bail out.

In a world as spiritually dry as the Sahara Desert, the words of Jesus point us to water, from a living well that never runs dry. Without him we live parched lives that are filled with broken relationships and empty dreams. In the end we are slaves to our own selfish whims.

When Harold Boyer married my Irish Cherokee and me in the Gateway City of St Louis, MO the church building in which we were married was located at 4201 North Newstead Street. The congregation later relocated under Pastor Harold Williams. Thus, when Arlo and Helen Newell came to lead the congregation, they became the leaders of a church located where I believe every church ought to be. Adjacent to the front side of the facility was a six-lane highway. The church facility was just off the main thoroughfare and very close to a cemetery.

I believe if I had one sermon to preach, my message would be that God calls his church to intercept those who drive madly by on the Broad Way before they reach the Cemetery. _____ walkingwithwarner.blogspot.com