Oh, That Sagging Middle!

Oh, That Sagging Middle!

I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I
who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which
I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,
who loved me and gave Himself for me.

Galatians 2:20

My father’s family came to Texas from Tennessee back in the 1800s. When I was a boy in the 1950s, each summer we would make our annual trek back to Tennessee to visit my Great Aunt Ann. I loved those long car trips in the days before the interstate highways. We would stay in her house, and I would sleep in an old iron bed on a feather mattress. Anyone who has had a similar experience knows that several times during the night you awaken in a ball in the middle of that soft feather mattress. I once heard Stuart Briscoe refer to the Christian life as a soft mattress. I can relate. That bed was extremely firm on both iron ends; but, oh, that sagging middle.

A lot of Christians live their lives like that old iron bedstead with the soft feathered mattress. That is, they are firm on both ends. They are firm on the front end: they know that, at a certain point in time, they put their trust in Christ and have the assurance that they have been born again. They are also firm on the other end: they know they are going to heaven when they die. But, oh, that sagging middle; those years in between for beating out the principles of the Christian life on the anvil of personal, daily experiences. And that middle often seems to be sagging.

Galatians 2:20 is the secret to firming up the middle of our walk with Christ. This was the second verse I remember memorizing as a teenage believer. I knew after my conversion that something grand and glorious had taken place within me. I asked one of my new Christian friends, “What happened to me?” He pointed me to Galatians 2:20. I memorized it that day and have held it close to my heart as one of my life verses throughout the years of my own Christian experience. This is one of the most personal verses in the entire Bible. Like a spring meadow with its buzzing visitors, the verse swarms with personal pronouns. (There are seven personal pronouns in all, depending upon the English version.) This single verse is perhaps the most complete description of the Christian life to be found in the New Testament. It reveals to us what Christ has done for us.

HE TOOK something from me: MY OLD LIFE
“I have been crucified with Christ;”

In this statement of Paul’s, the verb tense is perfect; that is, the action has been completed in the past with continuing results. The mood is passive; that is, the subject is the recipient of the action—all because of Christ. After all, we cannot crucify ourselves. We might get a hand nailed or a foot nailed to our cross, but we cannot crucify ourselves. The statement is also in the indicative, meaning that it is a simple statement of known fact. The apostle went beyond simply saying that Christ was crucified for me. He said I was crucified with Christ. It is a statement of fact. Jesus did it, not me. It was done long ago, but it has a continuing effect today.

When Dr. R. G. Lee, the late, great preacher of the gospel, first went on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, he and his tour group came to Golgotha, the place of the crucifixion. Lee, moved with emotion, ran ahead of the crowd. When they caught up with him at that sacred spot, they found him kneeling with tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh, Dr. Lee, I see you have been here before,” remarked one of the group. “No . . . Yes . . . Yes, I have been here before. Almost two thousand years ago.” And then the old preacher quoted Galatians 2:20.

As the Lord Jesus hung on Calvary’s cross, those in the crowd saw only one man on that center cross. But God the Father saw not just Christ but you and all others who would put their faith in Him hanging there. When we come to Christ, God takes our old life from us. We are “crucified with Christ.” In the first-century world, a person carrying a cross meant only one thing: he was going to die. We are to take up our cross and live like dead men and women today, dead to our old lives and alive to a new life in Christ.

HE PUT SOMETHING IN ME: MY NEW LIFE
“it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me;”

The new life in Christ is not a reformed life. It is not an improved life. It is not even a changed life. It is an exchanged life. We give God our old life, and He gives us one that is brand new. The apostle Paul had died to his old self-centered life and awakened to a new life in Christ. While many say, “Not Christ, but I,” the believer says, “Not I, but Christ!”

Think of this awesome thought: “Christ lives in me.” If we could literally awaken to this revelation, we would be on the way to turning our “world upside down” like those who went before us in the early church (Acts 17:6). There is no way to defeat a man who truly believes that Christ is alive and has taken up permanent residency in him.

HE GAVE SOMETHING FOR ME: HIS OWN LIFE
“[He] loved me and gave Himself for me.”

There are two realities I wish the whole world could know: God loves you and He gave Himself for you. These verbs are punctiliar; that is, at a point in time God’s great love took Him to the cross, and there He willingly gave Himself for you.

Think of it: “He loved me.” If I asked Paul how it is that He loved me, he would fire back without batting an eye, “He . . . gave Himself for you.” Jesus proved His love. He died in my place. His love took my sin so that I could take His righteousness. His love died my death so that I could live His life. He gave Himself for me! What a Savior!

Perhaps your life is like my Great Aunt Ann’s old iron bed: firm on both ends, but sagging in the middle. You can firm up the middle by coming to the reality of this one verse and incarnating it.

As you memorize this verse, meditate on the words written by Elizabeth Clephane over one hundred fifty years ago in her old song of the faith:

“I take, O cross, thy shadow for my abiding place;

I ask no other sunshine than the sunshine of His face;

Content to let the world go by, to know no gain nor loss;

My sinful self, my only shame; my glory— all the cross.”