On Calvary's Hillنموونە

Close to the Cross but Far from Christ

There was some dice-throwing that went on at the foot of the cross.

Imagine the scene. The soldiers are huddled in a circle, their eyes turned downward. The criminal above them is forgotten. Casting lots for the possessions of Christ.

Here are common soldiers witnessing the world’s most uncommon event, and they don’t even know it. As far as they’re concerned, he is just another criminal. The cross is forgotten.

It makes me think of us. The religious. Those who claim heritage at the cross. I’m thinking of all of us. Every believer in the land. The stuffy. The loose. The strict. The simple. Upper church. Lower church. “Spirit-filled.” Evangelical. Mystical. Literal. Cynical. Robes. Collars. Three-piece suits. Bornagainers. Ameners.

I’m thinking we aren’t so unlike these soldiers. (I’m sorry to say.)

We, too, play games at the foot of the cross. We compete for members. We scramble for status. We deal out our judgments and condemnations. Competition. Selfishness. Personal gain. It’s all there.

So close to the cross, yet so far from the blood.

We are so close to the world’s most uncommon event, but we act like common crapshooters huddled in bickering groups and fighting over silly opinions.

We major in the trivial, constantly finding fault with others. We split into little huddles and then, God forbid, we split again. Another name. Another doctrine. Another “error.” Another denomination. Another poker game.

So close to the cross but so far from the Christ.

“May they all be one,” Jesus prayed.

One. Not one in groups of two thousand. But one in One. One church. One faith. One Lord. Not Baptist, not Methodist, not Adventist. Just Christians. No denominations. No hierarchies. No traditions. Just Christ.