Making life a drink offering

During my trip to Nepal this past month, I was reminded of a quick visit I made about 15 years ago to the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle in Washington, D.C. I don’t quite remember why I went, but as one would expect, the entire cathedral was extravagant and gorgeous.

But what really struck me, and has stayed with me ever since, is the mural in the Chapel of St. Francis of Assisi, located inside the cathedral.

It’s an image of Christ crucified, and at his feet, are Francis of Assisi and Clare, two stalwarts of the early church, but more importantly, two people who gave of their lives in the name of Christ until nothing was left.

Making life a drink offering | To Sow a Seed

I remember how struck I was by the simplicity of the image compared with the rest of the cathedral. But more than that, I was moved by the emotion Francis imbues while on his knees beneath the cross: frail hands in the air, crying out, giving it all up to Christ on the cross while also being overwhelmed by the sacrifice the King has made for a lowly man like himself.

It’s Francis, knowing and acknowledging that his only saving is through the death and resurrection of the Messiah. Everything else meant nothing, was useless — unless Francis had Christ and Christ had him.

I want to be like that. I want to give it all away, give it all up, to say and know that I am fully His and He is fully mine.

It reminds me of the words of Paul the Apostle, who said, “But even if I am being poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I rejoice and share my joy with you all. You too, I urge you, rejoice in the same way and share your joy with me” (Philippians 2:17-18).

You and I know that when you turn over your cup or bottle, whatever is inside will run out. This is how we’re called to live our lives. Pouring ourselves out like a drink offering, turning ourselves over and over, so that in the end, nothing is left of us, there is only Christ. And to do it with joy.

With any life at any time, this can be difficult. But I feel the weight of it lately, especially because of our work in ministry and the way God has called us to live our lives.

I often have no idea what the true impact any of the work I’ve been called to do has, and the struggle to keep going, knowing the pressures it places upon my family and me, is just that, a struggle.

Yet, we continue to plant sometimes, water others, reminded that the garden is God’s to grow. It is His bounty, not ours.

I know that some days, what we are called to do may look and seem foolish. I’ve been told such many times by non-believers and believers alike. My decisions for my family, for the work I do, for the way I live my life.

Paul says fine, then be foolish.

“For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God” (1Corinthians 1:18).

Francis, in the mural, without speaking, weak and tired, says, look to the Messiah.

In the end, I know they’re both right. I know there’s still a lot of work to be done in my heart, in my life, and if someday I’m to suggest my life was just as much a drink offering as Paul’s, I know it’s necessary to remove the Christopher and leave only the Christ.