New year, new cross to bear

Well, it’s a new year. That means that people across the country, even the globe, are figuring out how to make themselves better. Everyone’s thoughts are bent towards how to make this year better than the last—better fitness, better attitude, better finances, better patience, etc.

This idea has permeated our American culture so sufficiently that our idea of a perfect year is one without stress, anger, or sorrow. We pursue our own perfection in the castles of our dreams.

But what if that’s not what God has for us? What if this year our dog dies, or our friends betray us, or our hopes are crushed? Or, even deeper, what if we lose a loved one or become ill ourselves? Does that mean we’ve failed? Do we give up and say, “Oh well, better luck next year”? We seem to forget far too easily that the way of Jesus is the way of the cross.

Suffering ought to be expected in the Christian walk. As we follow Jesus, the one who was ostracized, beaten, and executed for the sake of those He loved, we should not be surprised when similar ordeals come our way. Perhaps this year, instead of shying away from hardship, we ought to pray for the grace to endure it with patience.

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed…..Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.” (1 Peter 4:12-13, 19)

At times, suffering may even be called by God. This year you may be called away from your family, or called to live a life of poverty in service to the poor. You could be called to quit your job or to pour into a hurtful relationship you’ve been avoiding.

This is not some rigid asceticism. God does not wish us to beat ourselves up simply for the sake of pain. But God wishes our righteousness more than He wishes our happiness. And in righteousness, bought by death to self, is a true and pure joy not found anywhere else.

“‘The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.’ And he said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.’” (Luke 9:22-23)

When I take communion, I like to remind myself of the reality of the cross. I reflect on Christ’s body, broken and bloodied, and his blood, spilled out on the ground for me. And I pray as I eat the bread and wine, “My body be as your body, and my blood, your blood. Just as your body was broken for me, so here is my body, let it be broken for you.”

When we give our trials to the Lord, when we offer our heartbreak to him and ask him to hold it, we find in the giving a “peace that surpasses all understanding.” (Philippians 4:7). And we find that the more we endure, the more we learn what it means to die to ourselves. Until our death is complete, we can never be resurrected into glory.

James encourages us, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” (James 1:2-4)

It could be that this year, rather than pouring out material blessings, God wants us to be patient in suffering, knowing that the cross is the only road to glory.