Words are an essential part of life. They shape our communication with one another. In fact, words are a fascinating occurrence. You can write, speak, whisper, sing, and shout them. Words communicate. They tell stories. They travel over phones, through TV’s, and speed through emails. Words are powerful. They inspire hope and hurt feelings. They make us feel good and tear us down.

 The verse from First Corinthians emphasizes “the word of the cross.” It makes clear the word of the cross is the power of God. Power in itself is an interesting word. Say it out loud enough times and it begins to sound funny and foreign.  Power.  Power.  Power.  

 Power can mean strength, be that by muscle or by money. Power can give control over lights or over lives. Power is a sought-after commodity. He-Man said he had it. Electric companies give it. Politicians want it. 

 But God’s power comes through the still, small voice of His word. As the Apostle Paul reminds, it’s not just any word, but “the word of the cross.” However, the curious thing about this word is that it’s both powerful and foolish. This appears to be a bit of a contradiction. But Paul reminds us how this is so: “For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly [foolishness] of what we preach to save those who believe.  For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly [foolishness] to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Cor. 1:21-24).     

Jesus Christ is the power of God. Those who know Christ know He is the Word of God made flesh. The connection between the power of God and His Word becomes intimate and incarnational (in the flesh) in the person of Jesus Christ. So, when Paul speaks of the “word of the cross,” He is speaking of Jesus Christ, specifically the life He lived, the words He proclaimed, and the message of salvation displayed when the Word made flesh was nailed to the cross of Calvary.  

To know the word of the cross is to know Jesus Christ. But the ironic thing is the only way we can know Christ is to be called by Christ—to be called by the Gospel. In plain human terms, to hear and believe the story of Jesus Christ. 

And as stories go, this one is fascinating, filled with powerful words, compelling deeds, and miraculous events. It’s a powerful story we are called into, not only as hearers (or as readers), but as believers. It’s a story we’re called into, not simply as kids are invited to listen to a story at school, but one we’re called into even as we live and move and have our being. 

The church year tells this story. In fact, we are now entering the part of the story called Lent, where we follow Jesus from His wilderness temptation all the way to the cross and empty tomb. Likewise, the liturgy of the church tells this story. Every week, the worship of the church, through her liturgy, weaves (or speaks) us into the story of Jesus Christ: from birth to betrayal, from miracle to mercy, from Last Supper to resurrected Savior.

It doesn’t make sense to a world bent on its own story. But the secular world’s story is not our story. We have been woven into the story of Jesus Christ. What doesn’t make sense to the world makes beautiful sense to us.  As Paul said, “the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

As you rehearse this story week by week, season after season, you are made ready to share it with others, that they too might be wrapped into the powerful words of this story. In the chaos and uncertainty of this world, many are desperate to hear the Good News of this story. It may seem foolish to some, but we boldly speak it because it is the power of God.

God bless you on your Lenten journey.