Our Victory in Christ

This evening I am reflecting on a sermon recently preached by our Anglican priest, who brilliantly spoke on our victory in Christ. This victory is not something we fight for but what we fight from throughout this crazy, confusing, and beautiful life.

This victory comes from Jesus, taking our place on the cross, and enduring the weight of darkness and shame. He took on our brokenness by allowing Himself to become broken, beaten, and punished in one of the most cruelest ways possible in human history. He took on death and ultimately defeated it.

Just as Winter can’t hold back coming Spring, death couldn’t keep Jesus buried away the tomb. He broke free from it, and promises that we, too, can join Him in this victory.

When we try to win the war

In our persistent individualism, we try to do everything ourselves. We don’t ask for help because that makes us “weak.” We may admit that we’re not perfect, but the standards we place on ourselves and others suggest otherwise. We try to justify ourselves to the world, and “prove” that we are enough. I, myself, consistently fall prey to this.

I often believe, despite always falling on my face, that my own efforts and pursuits of perfection will somehow protect me from insecurity and failure. But anytime I try to grasp control and create my own sense of “security” it never ends well. I’m never satisfied with my own efforts, and often something ends up blowing up in my face.

This is what happens when we try to fight for our own victory. We try to take on the messy parts of life on our own and fix them by our own efforts. Or, we hide away in our “space” places, avoiding the battles all together, and living our lives in isolation and fear.

But here’s the thing: We don’t have to fight for anything as Christians. There’s no need to prove ourselves or justify who we are to the world. We don’t have live like everything is up to us, assuming that we’re only as good as what we do. Instead, we fight from the victory that is already found in Christ. We find confidence in His image, rather than trying to create a sense of confidence and assurance in ourselves. How freeing it is, to let go of the need to control and “win” in this life. When we, the people of His church, have already won the battle with him.

There are many, many hard things that happen in this life. Things that I don’t understand and comprehend. As Christians, we are called not to run from the battles but to turn into them, bringing the peace of the Gospel into the very center of the mess. We don’t have to fear the brokenness, because we already know what’s going to happen on the other side. It’s like watching a football game you’ve already seen. You don’t fret about the other team getting ahead because you know, that in the end, the team you’re rooting for will come back and win.

I am so encouraged by this truth. Instead of trying to avoid pain, discomfort, and risk, I can actually run towards it, without fearing failure. Because my identity and future in His kingdom is already established, why should I be afraid? I can sit with the brokenness of life without taking on the burden of having to fix it all — for how can I? I can lean into the uncertainty, and make mistakes without letting shame dictate my place in this world.

Why?

Because I run from Christ’s victory, not of my own.

Creating Beauty

From this place of victory, we can, like Karim Wasfi, make beauty in the midst of the mess. Wasfi, the well-known conductor of the Iraq National Symphony Orchestra, arrived at the scene after a car bomb explosion in Baghdad, pulled out his chair, and started playing his cello, right there in middle of everything. The scene was so powerful that soldiers and civilians fell silent and some began to cry.

In an interview, Wasfi said it was an attempt to “to equalize things, to reach the equilibrium between ugliness, insanity and grotesque, indecent acts of terror – to equalize it, or to overcome it, by acts of beauty, creativity and refinement.”

He counteracted, by his musical creation, death, and manifested new life through his music. “When things are insane and abnormal like that, I have the obligation of inspiring people, sharing hope, perseverance, dedication, and preserving the momentum of life,” he said.

May we, too, through the victory of Christ, move into the battlefields bravely and faithfully play our cellos. For the light of Christ shines that much brighter in the darkness.