Pray Network Forum

From the upcoming book Altar’d by Jennifer Kennedy Dean. Release date February 2012.

The cross of Christ stands as the point of separation between the old person powered by death-driven corrupted flesh, and the new creation, powered by the very Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead.   At the moment you embrace the cross, you receive its power into your life —a power that is eternally and continually working. Paul says that “death is at work in us.” At work in us now. Doing ongoing work. Doing present work. A.B. Simpsons says, “We may not preach a crucified Saviour without being also crucified men and women…The cross that Paul speaks about was burned into his very flesh, was branded into his being, and only the Holy Spirit can burn the true cross into our innermost life.”

The death that Jesus died on the cross cannot be—and need not be—repeated. Only He is able to die for our sins, having no sins of His own to die for.  As we surrender our corrupted flesh to His crucifixion, and as His death works in us, we are not repeating the atoning work of the cross. That is done, completed, finished. Instead, we are letting the power of the cross work out the crucifixion of our flesh. It is not a cross of punishment that works in us. The cross did its work of punishment on the body of Jesus. It is the cross that is freeing us from the confines and the distortions and the limitations of our sin nature. It is not restriction, but freedom. It is, in fact, the only hope of being all that we were created to be.

God designed the eternal cadence and it is built into creation at its crux. Life emerges out of death.  The seed that falls into the ground to die to produce a harvest. The branch that is pruned so that it can bear more fruit.  The beautiful colors of fall, ushering in the very death that will culminate in the springtime resurrection.

Living altar’d means surrendering to the death from which life comes. The cross is the only place where flesh can go to die.

Flesh’s Design

Flesh is designed to misdirect.  Flesh will work hard to direct your gaze somewhere other than the cross. Failing that, flesh will attempt to distort your view of the cross. Make it seem ugly and harsh instead of life-giving and redemptive and tender.

I have something of a hobby, I guess you would call it, of reading books and articles and blogs by people who grew up in strong Christian homes, but as adults rejected their belief in Jesus. Their stories seem to have several common themes, but central to most is the theme of always trying to please a God who could not be pleased. They felt burdened and ashamed—always trying to measure up.  They fell for a misdirection.

You know how a magician’s tricks work. He depends on the fact that our minds can only focus on one thing at a time. He uses his skills to draw the focus of his audience where he wants it, so that he can do something else where his audience is not looking. The end result is that a lie appears to be the truth. He appears to have accomplished something by magic that was really done by trickery. It is very convincing.

This is what our flesh will try to induce in us. A misdirected focus. If flesh can keep you focused on your sin instead of His grace, then the myth of a rigid, angry god seems absolutely true. If your flesh can misdirect your focus away from the reality of the cross, and keep your attention on your best effort, then the perception of a demanding, harsh god appears grounded in reality.

Flesh tries to pull our attention away from the beautiful cross, where our freedom is to be found. tries to keep us focused on our own failings, or our own fleeting successes, redefining the cross as vindictive and vengeful and fearsome.

The cross is a living power working in our lives to irradiate the flesh that holds us captive and stunts our growth.  It has nothing to do with our ability to follow rules. 

If the cross is working on the inside, then the evidence will show up on the outside. If, however, the flesh is working hard at conforming the outside, it will wear you out and discourage you. Flesh-produced outward changes that started out looking shiny and beautiful will fail the test of perseverance. It won’t be lasting change.  What counts is a new creation, transformed from the inside out. Not a spiffed up old creation. The only way to live is to live altar’d.

 “The tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell” (James 3:5-6)

I don’t think I have to convince you about the power words wield. When you think back to eventful moments in your life, there are likely words involved, either encouraging or discouraging. Those words had power. They perhaps changed your course. The tongue is a perfect illustration of the power of small. James makes the point that though the tongue is a small part of the body, it can set the course for a life.

Words are amazing weapons or great healers. Words have to be managed carefully. Once spoken, a word can’t be unspoken. You can’t inhale and pull it back in. Words take on a life of their own. All words are modeled after the Eternal Word: living, active, sharp. If you let words fly in the heat of the moment, someone will have to heal from their impact. You can say, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean that!” but the word is out and it lives in the person to whom you spoke it. No wonder the Word of God is jam-packed with warnings about using words prudently.

Words have the power to tear down, but they also have the power to build up. God can empower our words so that one small word can have so much impact that it redirects the trajectory of your life. God’s work in our lives can be so deep that it changes our words. After all, words come right from the heart. Changed heart, changed words. We can be so much in His presence that we naturally speak His words. Jesus once said of His words: ’These words you hear are not my own; they belong to the Father who sent me”’ (John 14:24).

I’ve always been accused of being exactly like my dad. People say that we are alike in looks, in temperament, in personality, in the way we process information, and in how we communicate. My two sisters, when the three of us are together, will often react to some statement of mine by looking at each other, rolling their eyes, and saying in unison “That’s Daddy talking”.

They mean that I am expressing my own thoughts, but that my own thoughts are exactly like my father’s. If he were present, he’d have said exactly what I said. You might say I’m speaking my father’s words.

As you live moment by moment in His power and presence, he will speak His present-tense word through you. "The lips of the righteous nourish many" (Prov. 10:21). You will speak what you have heard from the Father. When you speak, it can be said of you, “’That’s her Father talking.”’

The Cumulative Power of Words

Words, once spoken live on. Those words you speak to your teen-ager, thinking they are going in one ear and out the other? They are landing and making themselves a home. The words you thought you could throw out in a huff and apologize for later? They’ve carved out a nook and settled in. The words of kindness and encouragement that seemed to be ignored? They are fertilizing dreams. Make it your goal to speak into lives such a preponderance of uplifting, encouraging words that they will eventually tip the balance and move a life from discouragement to hope.

From an upcoming book by Jennifer Kennedy Dean, The Power of Small: Think Small to Live Large. Make sure you are on our quarterly newsletter list so you will know when new products are available.

From  Fueled by Faith by Jennifer Kennedy Dean

Listen to an interview on Fueled by Faith here.

The Finishing Touch
“Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith”  (Heb. 12:2, KJV).

Faith in its finished form results in the power and provision of God manifested in the circumstances of earth. The perfecting and finishing of our faith is accomplished through difficulties and challenges of life. As we face challenges, it trains us in the ways of faith, it trains us to keep our focus on the reality instead of the shadow, and it circumcises all the flesh out of the vision God has given us. Like muscles in the physical body, faith grows by resistance training—by being forced to do heavy lifting.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4).

Difficulty becomes blessing. Trials become joy. 

Circumcising the Vision
When God impregnates you with promise and causes vision to grow in you, that vision is designed and tailored to fit you and only you. It fits you exactly. When God describes His will, He uses three words: good, pleasing, and perfect (Rom. 12:2). The word “perfect” means  “a perfect fit.” His will for you is beneficial to you (good); it will bring you pleasure and will please you (pleasing); and it will fit you to down to the last detail (perfect). You love the vision. You’re supposed to.

As the vision develops, the time comes when you are forced to recognize that although the vision is God’s, it has some of your flesh wrapped around it. When I say “flesh,” I am talking about those parts of your life that are still fueled by your human nature. Your flesh wants to own and control and possess and manage and manipulate. God is always working in you to free you of your flesh and move you more and more into the power of the Spirit. To that end, He arranges crisis moments at which you are brought face-to-face with your flesh and the claim it is trying to have on God’s vision. Those times are painful, but they are the most productive times of all. When your flesh is brought to its crucifixion, it is bloody and messy and our tendency is to resist. But crucifixion has but one end: resurrection. This has always been God’s pattern and continues to be so today. Crucifixion. Resurrection.

In Hebrews 11, God spotlights  and highlights lives that have put faith on display. In each, the crucifixion-resurrection principle is evident. Look with me at an example.

Moses’ Parents
The writer of Hebrews spotlighted Moses’ parents as prime examples of how faith works. The vision that God put into Moses began as a vision in the minds of his parents, who saw that he was no ordinary child.  God caused them to see His promise and it jumped up and took such possession of them that a bold and reckless faith was born, freeing them from fear of the pharaoh. They didn’t know all its ramifications, but their vision was that he would live and not die at the pharaoh’s hands. That may be as far as they could see, but it was far enough.

God had to have provided supernatural protection for the baby Moses. He gave wisdom and ideas to Moses’ parents. Why did they even think that a little ark of bulrushes might protect Moses’ life? How did the idea even occur to them?

Three months they loved him and nurtured him and memorized his darling face and recorded in their hearts his dear sighs and gurgles and cries. With each passing day, love grew.

When the day came to let him go, imagine his mother’s walk from her home to the Nile's edge. Three-month-old son entombed in a basket. 
 
Surely only her selfless love for her son could induce her to walk her Via De La Rosa. Had she given one thought to her own desires, she would have turned back. She was going to place him into the Nile in the days when the Nile ran red with the blood of Hebrew sons. She was letting him go into the river that his enemy had declared to be his burial place. Imagine as she stood in the Nile's waters and came to that moment when she had to do the hardest thing she would ever be called upon to do. She had to let him go. She had to die to her mother's instincts to guard and protect. To save his life, she had to let him go.
 
When she did, her son was put upon the course he had been ordained to travel. The very river that might have been his end was instead his beginning. Jochabed received him back again, but everything had changed. When she put him into the Nile he was a slave. When she received him back from the Nile, he was a prince.
 
The secret was in the letting go.


(Learn more about the Crucifixion-Resurrection principle in  Fueled by Faith by Jennifer Kennedy Dean.

Hear Jennifer share this live.

From Pursuing the Christ by Jennifer Kennedy Dean

“I will make a covenant of peace with them; it will be an everlasting covenant with them. I will establish and multiply them, and will set My sanctuary among them forever. My dwelling place will be with them; I will be their God, and they will be My people.”
—Ezekiel 37:26–27

The Word became flesh and took up residence among us.
—John 1:14


God with us, Immanuel, Your stated purpose for Your Incarnation and all that it entailed—Your birth, Your crucifixion, Your resurrection, Your ascension, the sending of Your Spirit—was to establish peace.

You are the  peace. The peace You offer is not something separate fromYourself. The peace You offer is entirely based on who You are. Who You are is all that matters.

When Your messenger came to Mary, as recorded in Luke 1, Your message was a bit unsettling: “Do not fear. I am about to upend your life and make you centerstage for My divine drama, but do not fear.” Mary had one question: “How can this be?” (v. 34). You had one answer: “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you” (v. 35). Mary wanted to know how, but You only told her who.

“Our faith does not provide us with an answer, but with a Person. When Mary sought an explanation, what she got was a revelation,”  Brantley reminds me Dean.according to my son Brantley.

I imagine how Mary  might have reacted   had You explained to her Mary  the how of Your plan. How would  I respond to the most complex explanation of the most intricate matter regarding a subject of which I am wholly ignorant?   That would sound like baby talk compared to an explanation about how You would come as a little baby fashioned in the womb of a virgin. The how would not have brought peace to Mary’s heart, but the who caused a peace that surpassed understanding to stand guard over her heart (Philippians 4:7).

When anxiety tries to lay claim to my thoughts, when fear seeks a foothold in my mind, when confusion threatens to make a stand in my heart, I look to You, I seek Your face. You are all the antidote I need to anything that might steal my peace.

You will keep in perfect peace
the mind that is dependent on You,
for it is trusting in You.
Trust in the Lord forever,
because in Yah, the Lord, is an everlasting rock!
—Isaiah 26:3–4

You came to me. You, the Unknowable made Yourself known.The Invisible made Yourself visible. The Invulnerable made Yourself vulnerable. The Unapproachable approached.

No frantic seeking was required. No ceremonies and rituals were necessary. You, for whom our souls long, have eternally been longing for us. With all our anxious looking about, You were always there. Your presence is peace.


I found You in the spaces in between
I found You in the dark and not the light
I looked for You in drama
In the earthquake and the fire
And found You in the quiet,
You were waiting for me there.
I looked for You in miracles
In the loud, in voices raised
I looked for You in gatherings
In signs, in prayer and praise
But I found you in the gentle breeze
The still small voice, the darkened cave.

I found you in the spaces
Between sleeping and awake
I found you in the waiting
The worry, in the fear
I found You in the sleepless night
I found You in despair
I found You in the questions
No loud answers anywhere
I found You in the silence
Silence full not silence void
I found You in the spaces
You were looking for me there.

—poem by Rachel Holley,   © 2007