Lord, I wan’t to know you.
Robert Lewis once wrote “We could not make sense of the New Testament in particular, or Christianity in general, without its central figure—Jesus Christ. Christianity is not a philosophy or an ethic, but a person: Christianity is Christ. But neither can we make sense of Christ himself without His cross.”
Jesus, to know you is to know your cross. Here I come, I draw near to it’s jagged edges, I feel them on my cheek, its weight on my back.
Lord, I want to know you.





posted March 25, 2008 at 1:02 pm
But how do you do that? How do you learn to separate following rules from following God, obeying an ethic to really hearing the Voice of the One who calls you?
When I read the stories sometimes they scare me, they confuse me. Ananias and Saphira is so terrifying. And I wonder what other people do.
It is easy enough to be good and do nothing.
But it is when you are living the adventure that you fail to kill the dragon. It is when you hold hands with your enemy and look him in the eye that you discover how unloving you really are. It is the ones who hang out with Invisible People who also overlook them. And it is when you try to walk on water that you find yourself sinking.
But what then? I hear about the importance of repentance and I feel as if I must prove it somehow. That moment after the rooster crows, what then? It’s fine to say I’m a different fellow, but my life betrays me–I’m a slow learner.
And so I find myself saying five nice things for every insult, fessing up again to another exageration. And I cringe because I know I’ve turned following Christ into an elaborate exercize in being a goody-goody.
And I wonder if perhaps I’ve mixed up my cross with His.