There’s a story told about a priest in England, many years ago, who felt a call to become a missionary to a dangerous country, a place where declaring (much less preaching) Jesus as Lord would put your life at imminent risk. As he made his way to the coast where he would board his ship, the priest found himself sharing a train compartment with a wealthy businessman, who took an interest in the young man of God’s story. After hearing it all, the businessman looked at him with great concern in his eyes.
“Young man,” he said, “I applaud your enthusiasm, but I must protest. It seems so futile to go to a place where spreading your faith could cost you your life. You’re so young, with so much energy and passion, with so much of your life ahead of you. Surely God could find a place for you to serve where you won’t find yourself threatened with death?”
The young priest thought a moment, then quietly took out the cross he wore around his neck and held it out in front of the businessman and said only one thing.
“He did this for me. Can I do any less for him?”
He did this for me. Can I do any less for him? That profound statement followed by a profound question has such a powerful message for us on this Lenten journey. During these days, we follow Jesus to the cross where he died, and we meditate on his call to die to ourselves so that we may find true life in him. That is the heart of Lent.
The image of Jesus on a cross is a difficult and disturbing one, but it’s also an important one. We might be tempted during Lent and Holy Week to “fast foward” to Easter Sunday, but we need to first consider and take in what happened on that hill of Calvary. We need to sit with what happened on that cruel instrument of Roman torture and execution. We need to take it in without giving in to our desire to empty the cross of its inhabitant, the one who loved us enough to go through that for us. Paul emphasized the importance of this in his first letter to the Corinthians:
“And so it was with me, brothers and sisters. When I came to you, I did not come with eloquence or human wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.”—1 Corinthians 2:1-2 (NIV)
As we contemplate this amazing demonstration of God’s love during Lent, and as we listen for the ways God is stirring our souls to take up our cross and follow him, what else can we say but, “He did this for me. Can I do any less for him?”
Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were an offering far too small
Love so amazing so divine
Demands my soul my life my all
Read the rest of the lyrics here.
Questions for Reflection
1) Have you ever found a piece of art or depiction of the cross to be particularly striking and inspiring? What about it stirred your soul?
2) Today’s hymn contains such wonderful, powerful poetry. One line that stands out is, “Did e’er such love and sorrow meet?” How do you understand the cross as a place of both love and sorrow? How does that apply not only to the cross Jesus bore, but the cross he asks you to take up daily?
3) Read and reflect on this verse. Let it lead you into prayerful worship and gratitude:
“I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.”
—Galatians 2:20 (NIV)