by Eric Ludy

We’ve all said things that we wish we could retract and somehow cram back into our mouths.  Well, I made a quick statement in my latest blog entry (The School of the Prophet) that garnered some extra attention from all the die-hard phraseologists out there.  And it was the strangest thing, even after looking back over the statement, I still thought it a good one.  However, there were a few amigos who wished they could somehow cram the words back into my mouth (or in this case, my keyboard).  To me it wasn’t that controversial of a statement, it just seemed like a rather obvious thing.  But often, things that make total sense to us, don’t translate the same to everyone else around us. 

I said, “God builds us for crosses.” 

Most of those concerned about my provocative statement weren’t concerned about the rest of my blog, in fact they liked it, but they were concerned of what people might conclude if such a statement was left unclarified.

“Ludy, it sounds like you are saying that God erects two pieces of woods, removes some long painful nails from his toolbag, and then delights to crucify us.” 

How come when I repeat the words, “God builds us for crosses,” that isn’t what pops into my mind?  

“God builds us through crosses,” was a great suggestion from one of my good friends.  By exchanging “for” with “through,” that uncomfortable zing can certainly be avoided from the statement.  However, the statement would then only partially express what I believe.

You see, whereas I believe that God builds us through crosses, I also believe God builds us for crosses.  No, I don’t believe that God seeks to strip us naked, scourge us, torture us, openly mock us, and kill us.  Such hellish behavior is wholly the enemy’s business.  God isn’t the inventor of crosses, and he isn’t the one who wields them as an instrument of suffering and death.  But our God is the One who can take this horrible device of persecution and turn it into a supernaturally charged instrument of life.  He takes what the enemy means for evil and turns it to a profound good. 

What was Jesus built for? 

I realize that there are various things you could shout out as an answer to that question. 

“He was built to demonstrate the glory of the Father!” someone might say.

“He was built to live out the human life to perfection so that we could see the perfect pattern of righteousness!”  Someone else might add.

“He was built to save us from our sins.”  Yet another might throw into the hopper.

All very good answers, and perfectly valid answers to my question.  However, there’s something specific I’m fishing for.

Drum roll please . . .

“He was built for the Cross.”

He was built for that One great Day – that Day when the sin of the whole world would come crushing down upon His shoulders.  He was built to not faint, to not falter at Gethsemane.  He was built to keep standing and march forward with audacity even when betrayed to His face and abandoned by his closest friends. He was built for endurance, for long-suffering, for the awful brutality He would endure at the end of the Roman whip.  He was built to go as a Lamb silent unto the shearers.  He was built to succeed in the most dreadful of circumstances, the most harrowing of trials.  Jesus was built for the Cross.    He was built for that decisive moment.  He was built to win. 

What is a Navy Seal built for in training?  For the ease of furlough?  No - for the dread of D-Day, the shock of Omaha Beach. 

A Seal is built to remain standing under the greatest physical and mental strains.  He’s built to be a hero amidst the greatest difficulties when other men might fail.  He’s built to come out the other side of that bomb blast in one piece. 

What is a football player built for?  The comforts of the off-season?  No - for the pressures of the Super Bowl. 

He’s built for fourth and ten with the clock running down to zero – he’s built for exploits, for the guts to show themselves when the chips are down.  He’s built to get that ball into the end zone in the face of the greatest obstacles.  He’s built for victory NOT defeat. 

What is a Christian built for?  For the sweet songs of worship amidst the congregation?  For the tender words of love shared between the beloved?  Yes, but there is more.

Like Jesus, a Christian is built to win.  God doesn’t build his men for failure, He builds them for victory.  And so He constructs his men and women out of the stuff that gets them through this life in triumph.  He builds us for Gethsemane, for rejection, betrayal, slander, shame, and ridicule.  He builds us to keep walking when all around us falter.  He builds us to stand Athanasius Contra Mundum when everyone about us sides against the Living God.  He builds us to receive the cat of nine tails without forsaking our King and without relinquishing our mission.  He builds us for those two pieces of lumber ruthlessly pressed down upon our shoulders and splintering our skin with agonizing pain.  He builds us for the enemy’s nails, the enemy’s pain, and the enemy’s worst.  He build us to rise victorious, to remain faithful, to not cower in the season of greatest trial. 

Now, to be quite honest, in some ways I’m taking a dimension of the Christian life and putting it under a magnifying glass.  For, though it is true that God builds us for crosses, He also builds us for the life in-between, which might not always be made of splintery wood. 

So, in all fairness, you could say, “God builds us for today!”  I mean, after all, what’s the good of being built for some day way in the future, if we can’t even make it through the trials facing us today with triumph and victory?  This is obviously why Jesus says, “Pick up your cross daily.” And it would also be fair to say that there is a lot more than crosses that God builds us for.  For instance, “God builds us for His pleasure; God builds us to bear much fruit; God builds us to bear the image of His Son; God builds us to be holy; God builds us to worship Him; and God builds us to effervesce with overwhelming love, extraordinary joy, and indescribable peace.” 

You see, the Christian life is a bit too grand to stick into one small phrase.  The small phrase may be true, but it might only be a piece of an even greater truth. 

So, should I have said, “God builds us for crosses?”

I think so.  It’s a mighty truth, a stunning reality. 

But could I have said it in such a way that didn’t cause a mental trip-up for the phraseologists out there? 

Probably.

One of my beloved phraseologist friends suggested, “God prepares us for crosses.”

Hmmm.  God prepares us for crosses.  That’s pretty well put.  It’s true, and yet, it doesn’t carry around all that unnecessary mental baggage causing people to envision God erecting crosses and crucifying His children on them. 

Long and short, the grand Truth of Heaven isn’t always that easy to communicate down here in this sin-encrusted world.  Words can often be trip-ups rather than tools aiding us in our efforts.  However, even though we might not say it perfectly, I think we should still speak it.  And if we realize we could have said it better, we simply apologize for our inadequacy, and we say it better the next time.  But we live in a world that is dying for lack of Truth, so speak we must, even if our words still lack that final polish. 

 

Visit Eric’s personal blog and podcast at ericludy.com

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