the shame of the cross

I went with a friend to see the movie Precious last night. I wouldn't recommend it but I am not sorry I went. It has led to some good conversations and prayers. It reminded me of something I wrote a few years ago at Easter about shame. It was part of a series of devotions the stone sent out to help people prepare for resurrection Sunday. Here it is:

I know a lot about shame. There have been times in my life when it has been my most intimate companion. I bet you you could say the same. Oh, I know you’ve probably got trophies on your shelves or diplomas on your walls. There are smiling photos of you hanging in frames and filling your computer. All these declare you’re happy, accomplished, confident. But they don’t tell the full story, do they? We live among a people who have their own unique combination of arrogance and insecurity and selfishness masking results of the fall like fear, guilt, and shame that consume from within. And the truth is that even those of us who are redeemed are not exempt from feeling a portion of it.

The glory and the mystery of the cross is that One worthy of exalting Himself chose humility instead. He demonstrated a meekness that takes my breath away. Our Creator left splendor and stooped to kneel by taking on human skin. When He endured the cross, He crouched with His mouth to the dust. He actually became a curse (Galatians 3:31). Our Savior was naked before the critical eyes of Roman soldiers and His own kinsmen. The fact that they had no right to condemn Him did not remove their scornful stares. The Messiah who could have unmade them all submitted to the most disgraceful death possible and the agony of separation from His Father. Jesus embraced the crushing weight of sin and humiliation that we would do anything not to feel. He bore it for us so we could be clean. He made a way to call us His sisters and brothers (Hebrews 2:11). He did it so that you and I could run into the throne room of our Dad.

The apparent shamelessness of the world system is a garish attempt to disguise the shame inside. It never works. The Accuser whispers that we can never be pure or whole, that our case is just too extreme. The earth-shattering wisdom of God is that He overcame the shame originating from the fall by humbly receiving it. It isn’t the way you or I would have fought. It is the last weapon we would have chosen. And it was the only one that could ever have succeeded. Royalty in a feeding trough… a King on a cross…a Creator who dies to save His creation: God’s wisdom is like nothing I’ve ever known.

There is a song by Drew Holcomb and the Neighbors that my friend pointed out to me that captures the heart of pain and shame and suffering that are on my mind today. It is called the Valley and it goes like this:

I don't wanna face this valley
I don't wanna walk alone
You say that you'll leave to find me
Well I am begging you now to come

Don't think I can face the point
A heaviness is on my chest
You say that you will lift this burden
Well, I am begging you to bring me rest

(Chorus)
So come and find me in the darkest
night of my soul
in the shadow of the valley
I am dying for you to make me whole
for you to make me whole

I can't keep myself from sinking
Drowning down in all this shame
throw this one out
for I am calling for help
and I'm praying you will remember my name

I know I can't fight this battle
been surrounded on every side
you say that you will deliver me
I am praying you restore my life

(Chorus)

Answer me out of the greatness of your love
in your mercy turn to me
i know it's you that I've have been running from
but I am seeing that it's you I need
all I need

(Chorus)

Praying you are walking in peace and freedom. Love, terra.