While I know that the divine economy of salvation uses as its currency a dichotomous (2 sided) coin of love and discipline (Heb 12:6), nevertheless, I have always had trouble with the notion of having to carry my cross (Mt 16:24). The problem is not so much the cross itself, but my reaction to it; not so much the reluctance to carry it, but the dread of its weight. I treat the arrival of these crosses of discipline, with as much pleasure as the sight of an uninvited guest in the wee hours of the night. Atypical as the crosses are, my reaction is rather typical. There is the flare-up of choice passions reserved for the occasion, decorated by a hissy fit about my victimhood, ending in a clamming-up, true crustacean style. The theatrics work for a short while until I realize that I still have to deal with it.
Like these marine macrurans, I prefer not to come out of my defensive carapace, grown out of excretions of habitual vices, bedecked with the polished barnacles of a false front, that together do their best to protect a soft core of complacency that I’d rather keep undisturbed. Thus, for good reason, the Lord who knows what lies between my bone and marrow (Heb 4:12); who knew me from before I was born (Jer 1:5); who requires of me that journey of perfection (Mt 5:48), permits these crosses of discipline (Mt 16:24). When they invariably arrive, while still in full-shell-on mode, I sense the gentle nudge of the Holy Spirit reminding me that my Lord’s yoke is light and easy to bear (Mt 11:28-30); that I am called to rejoice always (Phil 4:4); that He will fight for me (Ex 14:14); that it is In Him that we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28) and that all things work for good for those who love God (Rom 8:28). At this point, the favourable outcome is the realization that this cross of discipline is being permitted and I calm down. The unfavourable one is that I curl deeper back into my shell for a little while longer. The funny thing is that when I do react favourably, in due course, the crisis is reasonably resolved. At this point, my wife usually quotes an old saying, “what came like a mountain, went like a mouse“. By the mountain, I believe, she is referring both to the crisis and my reaction to it.
As far as typical reactions and comedies of errors go, right after I have praised and thanked God for having resolved the crisis, a bout of short term amnesia sets in. This lasts right through the onslaught of the next crisis, engendering the same set of reactions in me all over again. This, I believe, must be the reason that the Lord in his unconditional love for me, has to constantly bring that next cross of discipline into my life. He needs me to voluntarily exit that hard shell exterior, extricate myself from that entrapment of false complacency, and learn to trust him through every trial. Much as my head knows this truth, my heart fails repeatedly at accepting it. The irony is that, like those at Jesus’ native place (Mk 6:1-6), the more I fail to have this requisite faith in God’s power over my life, the more I delay the working of mighty deeds in and through me. On the contrary, the more I accept and surrender to these dichotomous coins of love and discipline, accepting them as gift and collecting them as treasure, the richer I am for it. In those rare moments when I do, I feel a sense of pride and joy in knowing that in some mysterious way, I am helping Him build His Kingdom. Someday when I see Him, I hope I am there sans my bejewelled carapace, carrying instead a treasure chest of these coins. Amen.
We have such similar hearts and reactions. You could have been writing about me.