Posts
Brennan Manning, a former Franciscan priest and spiritual writer best known for The Ragamuffin Gospel, once wrote that the life of a believer will always take the shape of the cross. It is not only a theological idea but a lived reality, a pattern God weaves through our stories.
When we look at the cross, we don’t just see Christ’s suffering; we see the very structure of our lives in Him: vertical surrender, horizontal love, painful intersections, and upward resurrection.
The Vertical Beam: Surrender to God
The first beam of the cross stretches upward, reminding us of our call to trust God beyond our own strength. Scripture says, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).
For many of us, the vertical beam is where we learn dependence. It is built through grief, through nights of unanswered prayers, through the weight of losses we cannot explain. Each time we turn our face heavenward in sorrow or gratitude, the vertical beam is strengthened. Our relationship with God, unseen but unshakable, becomes the axis on which everything else turns.
The Horizontal Beam: Bearing With Others
The cross also stretches outward. “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2).
The horizontal beam is the place of relationships: marriages, friendships, churches, communities. It is where our arms are extended for others, often in ways that exhaust us. Sometimes it feels like we are nailed there, stretched by the weight of imbalance, enduring silence, or carrying love that is not returned.
And yet, this too is Christ-shaped. His arms were outstretched on the cross, bearing a weight He did not deserve. In our smaller ways, we echo that same posture of sacrificial love.
The Intersection: Death That Births Life
The real power of the cross lies in the intersection, where the vertical trust in God meets the horizontal call to love others. It is here that pain is most acute. Paul wrote, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20).
In our lives, the intersection is where grief collides with trust, where relationships wound us, and where we must choose release. It is where we lay down distorted love or broken loyalties and say, “Not my will, but Yours.” At that place, death becomes doorway. What feels like an ending becomes the seedbed of resurrection.
The Shape of the Cross as Witness
The apostle Paul declared, “The message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1 Corinthians 1:18).
The world may not understand why we forgive when betrayed, why we let go when silence replaces words, why we choose peace over endless pursuit. Yet in these choices, the shape of the cross becomes visible in us. Our scars bear witness to a God who transforms breaking into testimony.
The Upward Rising: Resurrection Written Into the Shape
The cross does not end in death. Its beams point upward, reminding us of resurrection hope. “He who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies” (Romans 8:11).
When we release what is distorted, God raises something new. Our ministries, our families, even our daily peace become signs of resurrection. The same places where we were broken become places where His life flows out. Scars do not disappear, but like Christ’s, they become signs of authority and healing.
Conclusion: A Cruciform Life
To say our lives take the shape of the cross is not poetic exaggeration, it is reality. The vertical beam teaches surrender, the horizontal beam stretches us in love, the intersection presses us into death that brings life, and the upward tilt promises resurrection.
Your life, my life, every believer’s life, is cruciform. Not because we seek suffering, but because Christ is being formed in us. And when others look, they do not just see our story, they see His story living again in human form: broken, surrendered, outstretched, and rising.
No comments:
Post a Comment