The Discipline of the Cross

The Spirit of Christ is sacrifice. Nail it to the Cross.
John notes in his Apocalypse that Believers overcome by not clinging to his life (Revelation 12:11). Read between the lines and those three items all amount to the same thing: Living the Spirit of the Cross. I am relentless about this. If you cling to the things of this world, even to the point of making a religion out of what your mind can conceive, then you have fallen short of the Cross.
In our local news monopoly today here in OKC, there is a story about the Clear Creek Abbey up near Hulbert, OK. That’s a few miles west of Tahlequah, the old Cherokee capitol of Indian Territory. The abbey stands out in the country northwest of Hulbert on property once hosting a serious moonshine bootlegger operation. We’re talking remote woodlands, a rough hill and draw country with few open pastures — perfect for their Benedictine isolation. It’s all about reciting the Latin rituals and manual labor, and is connected to some French monastic houses.
Sounds like a very pleasant existence, in some ways. I have no quarrel with any choice of rituals or theology, so long as people remember not to take it all too seriously. The whole teaching on this blog starts with you and the Holy Spirit, working out how you are supposed to bring glory to the Lord Jesus. While my particular expression of faith is quite radical and spare, having made the choice to minimize ritual and theology, that’s not a rejection of the opposite end of the scale in terms of Christian religion. It’s a rejection of how important those things are on the grand scale of God’s mission and calling on humans. I can worship with those monks, if they can put up with me, and hit the local dirt-floor Pentecostal Holiness tent meeting the same day and worship with them, too. The problem is more often the case that they take their thing too seriously as a universal requirement.
Jesus declared from the Cross, “It is finished!” At that moment, an earthquake shook the entire region, knocking loose some masonry in Herod’s Temple. Something shifted and that fat felt curtain in the Temple got ripped open. That kinda ruined the Day of Atonement observance the next day. That was God’s way of saying it was finished, indeed. The final ritual sacrifice was made and the rituals were from that day forward only rituals. Christ was the meaning of them in the first place. It’s not necessary to observe the full Seder meal any more, just the abbreviated Lord’s Supper. That and baptism (let’s not argue what that has to look like) are the only two rituals actually commanded. Reading between the lines again, as good Hebrew thinkers, we see any combination of bread and juice would suffice. Folks in Iowa can have cornbread and cider and Jesus will be there in Spirit, smiling and enjoying the glory of His Name.
The discipline of the Cross is not confined to carrying one around like Arthur Blessitt. It includes that but is both far wider and far narrower. Blessitt is doing what he was called to do; are you doing what you were called to do? That’s the whole question; that’s the discipline of the Cross. What does it take for you to keep your head oriented on the glory of Jesus? Whatever that is, you need to be doing it. Write your own creeds and confessions, your own liturgy, your own rules and costumes. Draw pictures or don’t; build huge facilities or refuse them all. As long as you think that stuff really matters, it will always be wrong. As soon as you realize it’s simply your calling and your obedience, then you are holy and right.
Nothing you can do, touch or name is sacred in itself. As the song by Paxton says, “If you think my mind’s in another dimension, then brother you’re right!” It’s right to belong to the Spirit Realm and let your life express whatever is necessary to implement that. We are committed to the Person of Jesus Christ; nothing else matters, certainly nothing in the world — not all the property, plans or even your kids.
Nail it all to the Cross.