Why do Christians Sing about the Cross?
On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suffering and shame;
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.
Refrain
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.
Till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
And exchange it some day for a crown.
O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary.
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary.
Refrain
In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
A wondrous beauty I see,
For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
To pardon and sanctify me.
A wondrous beauty I see,
For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
To pardon and sanctify me.
Refrain
To the old rugged cross I will ever be true;
Its shame and reproach gladly bear;
Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away,
Where His glory forever I’ll share.
Its shame and reproach gladly bear;
Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away,
Where His glory forever I’ll share.
A few weeks ago in morning worship the congregation sang
that old favorite hymn, The Old Rugged Cross.
As I was singing I was reminded of the great difference between the
world and the Christian in regard to the cross.
To the Christian, the cross is
everything: it “has a wondrous attraction,” a “wondrous beauty,” he “loves” it,
“cherishes” it, “will cling to” it, “ever be true” to it, and “its shame and
reproach gladly bear.” In contrast, to
the world, it is “the emblem of suffering and shame,” “so despised,” and the
object of “shame and reproach.” Why the
great difference? Let’s explore this a little, beginning with
the reaction of the world.
There are a number of worldly reactions to the cross, from
the superficially sentimental pitying of the poor unjustly treated Jesus to the
openly hostile. Today let us consider
the one that is most often mentioned both in scripture and in the hymn:
offense. It is despised and reproached
as a thing of shame, giving “offence.”
Let’s face it, the cross is a shameful thing. It was first of all the excruciating (that is
where the word comes from) instrument of execution, presumably the end of a
depraved, guilty and worthless life, and designed to demonstrate this to the
max. The person hanging here is cursed
by God, condemned by man and worthy of contempt, pain, and death. From the law of Moses on, “cursed is every
man who hangs from a tree,” and no matter what the religion of the district,
the Roman cross was well designed to give the impression that here hangs one
who is forsaken by his god, stricken, smitten and afflicted” and despised by the
state.
However, the reaction of the world against the cross of
Christ, the “offence of the cross,” is
something else, for the cross does not say “Christians worship a criminal,” but
“here is the great issue between man and his Creator.” On the one hand, the cross is the rejection
of the heaven-given Son, the representative of God. In it, all mankind says to God, “We will not
have this man to rule over us!” “We
reject your Sovereignty, we reject your Lordship. We reject your claim to command
and judge us.” It is the fruit of that
depraved resolve voiced in the second Psalm “The kings of the earth set
themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD and against
his Anointed, saying, ‘Let us burst their bonds apart and cast away their cords
from us.’” That is what the crucifixion
really is from humanity’s side-- a guilt-incurring act of ultimate defiance
against the Creator. We recoil at that, thinking we are not guilty
of that, but then we are hit with the even greater offence of the cross when we
understand the implication of its true message and purpose from God’s side: the
cross says to all men everywhere, “You don’t have what it takes. You’re not good enough.” The cross is a proclamation that apart from
it, apart from the cross-death of no less
than God-incarnate as their substitute, men, even the best of men, the noblest,
most altruistic, bravest, most generous, and loving of men deserve to suffer forever
in hell. That is the historic Christian proclamation. That is the offence of the cross. The cross proclaims, “You are a sinner. Your sin, as it is rebellion against your infinitely
worthy Creator is such a great, a monstrous, evil that it fully merits eternal damnation. God knows your heart, your innermost
thoughts, your motives, every moment of your life, and here is the execution of
His judgement upon it. You are condemned
as guilty and utterly unable to do anything to save yourself.” That’s
what the cross means to the world.
How, then, can so obscene and so insulting and so condemning
a thing be such a “wondrous beauty” to the believer? To be
honest, no brief answer can be given. It
has been the theme of millennia of Psalms and hymns and numberless prayers and
sermons, as men have tried to “survey” its wonders and labored to express the
inexpressible, but the essence of it is expressed in a few lines of this
hymn. The cross proclaims God’s
judgement against my sin—in another!
Here are the wondrous joyful tidings of the gospel: “on that old cross Jesus suffered and died to pardon and
sanctify me.” The cross is nothing
less than the intervention of God the Son, who poetically “left His glory above”
by uniting Himself with fallen man, taking on genuine human nature, his soul and flesh
and blood, in such a wondrous union with His eternal divine person that it can
rightly be said that his blood, no different than any other human blood, was
the “blood of God,” or, as the song says, “blood so divine.” In this wondrous person, he lived as man the perfect
God-pleasing life, always identifying Himself with a people given to Him by the
Father before the world began, “a world of lost sinners,” carrying their sin as
the “dear Lamb of God” all His life until that day when all our ink-black sin and all
God’s righteous wrath would meet on “dark Calvary,” and He would offer a
sacrifice sufficient to pardon and perfect forever all who by the same grace
are brought to see its wondrous beauty and believe. These,
who are inwardly changed, regenerated, so that they see its wondrous beauty,
conversely esteem the world’s reproach as nothing, and why they will persevere
in faith, being “ever true,” suffering for Christ’s sake, until, as promised,
He returns to take them where He is, where they will behold His glory
forever.
This is why the believer glories in that which is despised
by the world. He says, “I am crucified
with Christ;” meaning, “With all the damnable sin and God-offensive filth of my
soul, my heart, my life—all that is “I”—I have been regarded by God as united
with His Son and on the cross the most perfect, strict, unassailable justice of
God has been fully executed upon Him on account of me. The cross leaves nothing left for me to pay—Jesus
paid it all. “Nevertheless I live.” Now, He who is resurrected from the dead and
raised to heaven is my life, indwelling me by His Holy Spirit, mighty to reign in
me and over all things in the universe to bring me at last to His glory,
conformed to Him, saved by His precious blood.
That is why I sing about the cross.