So......you know what that is
A crucifix. A cross displaying a dead/dying Christ on it..I never liked those crosses. As a Methodist, we don't put the little man on our crosses. The closest we get to having something on the cross is our trademark flames shooting from it. During Lent, we drape it in dark purple and if we are truly bold, we drape it in white on Easter - ooooooohhhhh - very daring.
I am teasing, but we really don't like to see a suffering Jesus. And I really wonder if the religions that do have him affixed, have become somewhat desensitized to the whole thing. I heard the sermon of Adam Hamilton from his blog, Seeing Gray, the other day. He showed a old black and white picture of a slave that had been beaten severely for trying to flee his master. His back is a massive collection of rough scars, crisscrossing top to bottom. Much like Jesus' back might have been, had he lived long enough to tell the tale. I had never seen the picture of this man, much less the story that followed. Evidently the slave was successful in one of his attempts and did reach freedom. A journalist took this picture and circulated it widely throughout the northern states. Complacent northerners were incensed and the picture did much to excite and promote the anti-slavery sentiments already brewing there.
What did the picture of Jesus dying on the cross do? Did it have any affect on those who saw it. The soldiers, the friends and family, the disciples. How about the people that heard about it from Paul and Barnabas or Peter and John. After a moving message, did they describe the pain and agony of Christ as he slowly died on the cross. That the pure, sinless Son of God died for the miserable sinners they were. I can only imagine.
No, I will do one better. I have been there. I have heard the story of his death and suffering and been moved to tears, moved to guilt, and then moved to grace. Moved along the flow of the blood from his precious, bleeding side. Amen, brother.
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