New Morning Mercies #307

The cross of Jesus Christ stands as a beacon of hope in a world gone bad. Life, hope, forgiveness, and change really are possible!

The cross doesn’t stand stained with the death blood of the Messiah in the darkness of moral defeat. It is not the sad symbol of a plan gone wrong. It doesn’t preach that the good gets smashed at evil’s hand. It doesn’t suck salvation hope out of those who would believe. The cross isn’t the grand symbol of redemption’s embarrassment. The cross shouldn’t make you ashamed. No, it should stand at the epicenter of your boasting. Hear the words of the apostle Paul: “But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Gal. 6:14). In a sin-scarred world, there really aren’t many things worth boasting about. As sinners, rescued from ourselves by powerful grace, we don’t have many valid reasons for puffing out our chests. We’re all more case studies of mercy than heroes. The world around us groans under the weight of its fallenness. The history of humanity would be a sick and dreary story if it weren’t for the rough-hewn tree of death on the hill of Golgotha. It was an unlikely place for a scene of history-changing triumph. The place where they executed criminals seems to be the last place to go to find hope. The scene where they killed the world’s only innocent man doesn’t seem to be a place that excites celebration. But such is the paradox of grace. Death is the doorway to life. Hopelessness is the entrance to hope. Weakness is the place to find strength. Injustice is where mercy flows. Life comes to those who deserve death. Defeat is actually a victory. The end is really a beginning. Out of sorrow comes eternal celebration. The tomb is the place where new life begins.

The impossible paradoxes of redemption become the regular moves of transforming grace. Hope is sung to suffering’s tune. Life is played on death’s instruments. Grace doesn’t play by the law’s score. God composes hope from tragedy’s notes. So we look at Calvary and we don’t sing a dirge—we sing a song of triumph and celebration, of hope and salvation. Satan’s players have not been able to drown out salvation’s song. The songs of hope by the company of the redeemed will never end. They grow in volume, celebration, and glory. The cross is the subject of those songs, and its life-giving mercy is the chorus.

It is the cross of Jesus Christ that gives you reason to hope, sing, celebrate, and live. It was never the interruption of God’s saving plan, but the essential means of it. It was never a defeat. It was always a victory.

For further study and encouragement: Revelation 5