Book Bites: The Cross of Christ

I feel compelled to share some thoughts from the book I'm reading.  I have been wrestling through The Cross of Christ by John Stott, my summer reading goal.  And until it's done (yes, I believe in almost always finishing books), I am not allowing myself any pleasure reading (though I confess, I did read Tin Tin and the Black Island this week, but I picked that off of Gwen's shelf).  I have a stack of tantalizing fiction and non-fiction just waiting for me to finish this beast.

So today I prayed that God would open this book up to me and help me see Jesus more clearly through it.  I desperately need a renewed sense of joy in the good news of forgiven sin.  It is my deepest, truest source of joy, and I need it refreshed often so I don't drift into looking for my happiness in the littler joys of life (baby, marriage, fun things).

God REALLY answered that prayer today. (Thank you Lord!)  So here are some "bites" of goodness from my reading today:

(Emphasis added is mine.  Let the words hit you.  They are worth slowing down for.)

The doctrine of substitution affirms not only a fact (God in Christ substituted himself for us) but its necessity (there was no other way by which God's holy love could be satisfied and rebellious human beings could be saved). Therefore, as we stand before the cross, we begin to gain a clear view both of God and of ourselves, especially in relation to each other. Instead of inflicting on us the judgement we deserved, God in Christ endured it in our place. Hell is the only alternative. This is the "scandal," the stumbling block, of the cross. For our proud hears rebel against it. We cannot bear to acknowledge either the seriousness of our sin and guilt or our utter indebtedness to the cross. Surely, we say, there must be something we can do, or at least contribute, in order to make amends? If not, we often give the impression that we would rather suffer our own punishment than the humiliation of seeing God through Christ bear it in our place. (p. 160)

The proud human heart is there revealed. We insist on paying for what we have done. We cannot stand the humiliation of acknowledging our bankruptcy and allowing somebody else to pay for us. The notion that this somebody else should be God himself is just too much to take. We would rather perish than repent, rather lose ourselves than humble ourselves.


Moreover, only the gospel demands such an abject self-humbling on our part, for it alone teaches divine substitution as the only way of salvation. (p. 161)

We have to acknowledge our nakedness, see the divine substitute wearing our filthy rags instead of us, and allow him to clothe us with his own righteousness (cf. Rev. 3:17-18). (p.162)

I am thankful for God's grace today in giving me faith.  I know that my proud heart would resist him, if he had not opened my eyes to his love on the cross.  O, for grace and humility to love him more!