Soon after, at a business meeting, a perceptive member voiced a concern. "We need a cross in the front of our church," he said. "It will be a reminder that we preach Jesus Christ crucified and risen again." After a brief discussion, the vote to have the cross was unanimous.
Not long after, a beautiful wooden cross was mounted in the front of the church, right under the skylight. I like the cross standing there as a reminder of Christ's death and resurrection, as a symbol that we as a church preach a living Christ.
I am drawn to the cross because, when I as a teenager made my choice to dedicate my life to the Saviour, the evangelist used Isaiah 53:5-9, picturing Jesus on the cross being rejected, and yet being willing to die. He made the message personal by saying that Jesus knows our name and calls us to follow. The theme song we sang every night of that week was: "At the cross, at the cross where I first say the light".
That week, I was changed forever through believing that Christ died on the cross for me. I was changed because the message of the cross had been so clearly presented by G.W. Peters, the faithful evangelist. I was so thankful for that experience. Peace and joy replaced the fear I'd been living with, especially the fear of dying. Ever since our mother had died in a tragic accident when I was six years old, I had lived in dread of dying, and I knew I wasn't ready to meet God. Just knowing I was forgiven gave me such incredible joy!
The new sanctuary is almost eight years old now. Many people have come to worship here every week; many, too, have come to believe in Jesus here. The cross still stands there to remind us of the Saviour.
However, one Sunday last fall, when we came into the sanctuary, there was a black cover over the opening in front of the cross. The black drape was there to shut out the light so a video could better be seen later in the service.
As I sat there not being able to see the cross distinctly but only in its veiled form, it became an object lesson for me. If I allow sin to cloud my life, then people can't see Jesus clearly, nor can they be attracted to Him. Neither can the church win sinners to the Lord if the message is blurred and does not clearly focus on Christ. A beautiful building like our church may initially attract people. The music and friendliness of the congregation may please them enough to return. However only the true preaching of the cross will bring them to faith in Christ.
There is an allegory entitled "The Padded Cross". In it, a Christian is choosing from an array of crosses in response to Christ's call, "Take up your cross." Jesus is watching him. After looking at the crosses, the Christian says, "I'd like a new one. Are there any vinyl padded ones? You see I am thinking of attracting others, and if I could show them a comfortable one, I'm sure I could win a lot more. And I need something flat, too, so it will fit under my coat--a person shouldn't be too obvious, you know." Jesus walks away, grieved by the Christian's carnal attitude.
Sometimes I'm ashamed to be an open witness, just like that Christian; I want to hide my Christianity because of what others might say or think. I, too, want a comfortable cross. When I feel this way, I need to learn from Paul, who wrote, "For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ."
Since that Sunday's object lesson, I pray more fervently that we as a church won't veil the cross, but rather clearly and unashamedly proclaim its message. I Corinthians 1:18 says: "The preaching of the cross is . . . the power of God."
Lena Bergen Friesen lives in Waterloo, Ont.