By J.D. Walt

Prayer of Consecration

Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.

Jesus, I belong to you.

I lift up my heart to you.
I set my mind on you.
I fix my eyes on you.
I offer my body as a holy and living sacrifice to you.

Jesus, We belong to you.

Praying in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Scripture

What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;

    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:31–39 (NIV)

Consider This

As we close the week, let’s ask the question, “What is Romans 8 all about?” 

At first glance, we might be led to say, “The Holy Spirit, of course!” Interestingly, the chapter does mention the Holy Spirit a whopping twenty-one times. That’s not what or who it is about though, for the Holy Spirit is never about himself but always another: Jesus. Go back and read the chapter and you will see the whole thing is summed up in the last eleven words:

the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I grew up in and around a church that had a pretty clean cross. It was not only pretty clean, but it was also pretty and clean. It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I discovered the messy cross—also known as a crucifix. I think I grew up with a bias against it—reasoning since Jesus was risen the cross was clean; because the tomb was empty the cross must be too. 

In my mid-twenties, I began to walk the grounds of an ancient monastery (by American standards) in the middle of Kentucky. Everywhere I turned, the crucifix confronted me. One day I bought a small crucifix statue in the gift store. It sat on my desk in my study at home. One day, when my oldest (David) was around four, he came into the study and picked up the little statue of Jesus on the cross. As he rolled it around his tiny fingers, he asked, “Daddy, what do we use this for?” And before I could proffer some ridiculous answer, he continued, “Or, . . . is it for looking at?” I knew at that moment a prophet had spoken. I said, “Yes, David, this is for looking at.” 

Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;
    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

My life in these years began to reveal to me that my cross was too clean. My life was getting messy with trouble, hardship, and persecution. I was beginning to crack into a smidgen of “the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings.” I needed to behold more of him than I was glimpsing. 

A few years later I came across a painting done by one of my friends, Kevin Sparks. It is called, “Darkness Tries to Comprehend Light,” and it depicts Jesus Christ lifted up on the cross in a brutal scene of unthinkable suffering. As you approach the painting you begin to realize it’s more than a painting. The cross and crucified body of Jesus are recessed—carved into the wood. And as you back away, you notice how his body is shaped like a chalice. Then you see it, the red paint, like blood coming out of the picture and across the frame at the bottom. “Yes, David, this is for looking at.”

And I spend more and more time every single day just looking at it; lifting my eyes to him who is wholeness who made himself broken so that we who are broken could be made whole; lifting my heart to him who is fullness who made himself empty so that we who are empty could be made full. 

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

That is a picture of a messy cross. Our cross is too clean friends. Jesus is risen from the dead and yet he is crucified. We will know him as risen only to the extent we know him as crucified. It’s why the cross is the very shape of love. Our lives, with all our pain, conflicts, tragedies, brokenness, loves and losses, perplexities and persecutions, are held together by his broken body, risen and ascended to the right hand of glory. 

This is the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Yes, David, this is for looking at. 

 

 

Prayer

By the Spirit of God, our hearts keep crying out Abba Father! Abba Father! Abba Father! No fear. No guilt. No shame. No condemnation. Only love. Only freedom. Only Jesus. We behold you, Jesus, high and lifted up, the slain Lamb of God, indeed the Lamb slain from before the foundation of the world. We are in awe of you, and the Spirit tells us, you are in awe of us—as you intercede on our behalf. Holy Spirit, lead us deeper into this love such that we know nothing else. Praying in Jesus’s name, amen.