This Easter marks our third major holiday (after Thanksgiving in Kenya and Christmas in Rwanda) on the field. On Friday, though, our team gathered with the men of B-Squad to hold our own Good Friday service. As we met in the hot top floor of a newly-rented (empty) apartment, it struck me how unlike a normal Good Friday service the evening was. Through an open window, we gazed at a painted sky, a collision of deep orange and lavender that fell over the top of the unfinished rooftop opposite us—a still small reminder that the glory of Yahweh answers to no one and has no qualms about touching down in the heart Islamic Malaysia. The same sun truly does, “rise on the evil and the good, and the rain on the righteous and unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45)—leading some to worship and others to repentance.
Despite the view, the service lacked the typical amenities and flourishes that I would expect from a church service back in the States. A circle of plastic chairs served as pews and a sole acoustic guitar as our worship band, as some sweaty, tired missionaries and a humble Malaysian family made up the entirety of our “congregation.” Nonetheless, all of this simply served to prove that God is not confined to displaying his glory in the ways and locations we would expect.
As Jess read scripture on the last supper (Luke 22:7-20) and led us in communion, and as Mal read scripture on Jesus’ crucifixion (Luke 23), God graciously gave me one of those “this is why I’m here” moments. The story of Jesus’ all satisfying, completely shocking, religiously scandalous, substitutionary death on the cross is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what makes The World Race “worth it.” Further still, it’s what makes life “worth it.”
When I first became a Christian, I viewed the cross as “Christianity 101”—a story to be understood, kept in the back of one’s mind, and then moved past, in search of the more “advanced” concepts of the faith. Every day that passes, however, I realize that the cross is nothing to be moved past—rather, it saturates the beginning, middle, end, and every moment in between of our faith journey.
The cross is what separates Christianity from every other religion—and every other system of man-made morality—from the World. The cross is the ultimate display of our own inability to save ourselves and the ultimate display of God’s good pleasure in saving us. When Jesus said, “It is finished” (John 19:30), the course of human history was changed forever. Everything in the Old Testament points forward to the cross, and everything after the Gospels in the New Testament points back to the cross. I want to spend every moment of my life displaying the power of the cross and enjoying the fruit of the cross.
This morning, I heard one of the most profound quotes of my life in a sermon that really resonated with my soul. “We will never see real change in the world until the cross of Christ is lifted up as the standard of love,” the pastor said. And it is so true. The cross of Christ is not one form of love, not one expression of love among many—but rather, the very standard of measurement by which we measure how loving or unloving other things are.
This is precisely why statements like, “let’s just forget the specifics, forget the cross, and just love people” are so tragically contradictory! It is impossible to love people without the cross of Christ, because the cross of Christ is the very standard that everything else revolves around. We’ve all heard John 3:16. It’s likely on a coffee cup somewhere in your attic. However, when the verse says, “God so loved the world that he gave his only son…”, the “so” doesn’t mean “God loves the world so much”, (which he does), but rather, “God loved the world in this way: that he gave his only son.” The very pinnacle of God’s loving self-expression is the cross of Christ—and we are called to act like God, for such is the definition of holiness (Hebrews 12:14).
But the cross is just scandalous, I tell you—it’s ridiculous. The whole point of religion is to gain advice on how one can gain God, gain peace, gain prosperity, or gain life. Such is the aim of the Barnes and Noble “self help” section as well. It’s not fair that the cross can just laugh in the face of all of that! It’s not fair that the cross can marginalize Plato, silence John Lennon, and push Ghandi to the side. But it does. It’s an expression of humility—yet without even trying, and by definition, it also ascends to the throne of all things important in the world.
If you’ll allow me the grace to be honest: I don’t know what I’m doing half the time I’m out here. I don’t know how to navigate deep theological waters. I’m not always sure of what to think about Evangelical versus Charismatic doctrine. I’m not sure how to counsel people. I am trying to figure this stuff out as I go. However, the one thing I am sure of is the cross of Christ.
I mess up a whole lot, but I want the cross to define my life. When people think of me, I want them to think of the cross alone. In fact, this is the reason why my Facebook profile picture (below) hasn’t changed in 18 months and why it never will. The same is true of the cover photo for this World Race blog. The only thing I want people to see is a dim Ben Friedman, off in the corner, and a sharp, distinguishable cross in central focus.
I don’t want this to be a long, complex blog, because the point is simple: the cross was everything, is everything, and always will be everything. I pray that I will not sell my soul, over the years, to anything other than the cross of Christ.
