Oxymoron

When we put words together that are conflicting in defintion and meaning, we have created an image that conveys the blending of worlds. Bittersweet memories, for example, bring together the aspect of a memory that is wonderful to remember, but something inside of the wonderful memory balances the scale a bit. The reality of life is that we cannot break down our world into a divided state where opposite ideas don't intermix. When Paul writes that all things work together for the good, there is inherent in that statement, an oxymoron. All things must include the sorrow of death, the anxiety of unpaid bills, and any other sordid detail of our lives.

I woke up at my usual 6:00 a.m. this morning, doubting whether or not I really wanted to go face five classes of rambunctious students who are as ready as I am for the two weeks off. Inside of my head played a hymn I have not heard in ages. The funny thing is that I had tired of church hymns from the songbook by about 12 years of age. Now, I miss them in relation to the sappy love songs with insignificant verses and repetitious choruses. As a reader, now I understand the depth of meaning behind those stories put to lyrics.
And as I stepped into the shower, I began singing, and I use that term loosely, At the cross, at the cross, where I first saw the light--and the burdens of my heart rolled away. I'd never realized the oxymoron in that one line. Of all the moments in the history of the church, and despite understanding the symbol that the cross has come to represent, the cross is the darkest moment in the life of Jesus, his mother, and his disciples. Sometimes I think we forget the pain and suffering that took place on yet another oxymoron, Good Friday. If you asked Peter and John about that day, I believe we get a vastly different word than good.
The song says that at the cross we see the light. And that is quite a spin. Symbolically, yes, we find the light, the way back to God, after the grossness of the cross. It has over time become a relic of sorts to all who seek a symbol of hope. And I don't downplay the importance that the cross plays in that process. Without the cross, if Jesus had just done what he really wanted to do--have God take that burden from him,--we would not be able to sing at the cross with tears of thankfulness.
In the midst of the darkest and most humiliating moment in the life of Jesus, a light of significance somehow penetrated the darkness. And only after the crucifixion and resurrection, can we look back and and sing:
Alas! and did my Savior bleedAnd did my Sovereign die?Would He devote that sacred head For such a worm as I?
Refrain
At the cross, at the cross where I first saw the light,And the burden of my heart rolled away,It was there by faith I received my sight,And now I am happy all the day!
Thy body slain, sweet Jesus, Thine—And bathed in its own blood—While the firm mark of wrath divine,His Soul in anguish stood.
Was it for crimes that I had done He groaned upon the tree? Amazing pity! grace unknown!And love beyond degree!
Well might the sun in darkness hide And shut his glories in, When Christ, the mighty Maker died, For man the creature’s sin.
Thus might I hide my blushing face While His dear cross appears, Dissolve my heart in thankfulness, And melt my eyes to tears.
But drops of grief can ne’er repay The debt of love I owe: Here, Lord, I give my self away ’Tis all that I can do.