I'm mulling over some more thoughts on the theology of the cross. Until they solidify enough for me to put them down, I thought I'd post the following scripture -- truly powerful words.
For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form or comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all.
The Old Adam in me is alive and well -- he balks and turns away even now from meeting this man who has "no beauty that we should desire him," and who "is despised and rejected of men."
Yet this man of sorrows is the incarnate son of God.
My flesh wants anything (and everything) aside from what God has given me. I want a savior who makes me happy all the time, who lights my relationships up with vigor and love, who answers my mundane, profane questions with something more than words.
But He answers with only words, bread, wine, and water. In this land of my sojourn, He compels me to walk by faith, not by sight.
This is my cross, and it is a free gift of God. Thank Him for that, too. I wouldn't take it up had I the choice.