When I was still at home as a kid and teenager, my dad used to pull out his guitar (or sometimes the banjo) and offer a highly inebriated version of The Old Rugged Cross.
I came to hate that hymn because of that.
Over the past few years, though, I’ve been heavily focused on newness. Things I had that were worn or broken started to stress me out. I got rid of a lot of old material things and bought new tools within my budget, hoping it would make me feel better.
Isn’t that what we tend to do in the world? Trash what we’ve used and focus on the immediate gratification of accessing something different?
We think that new things are a solution. All of our energy goes into acquisition and manufacturing under the mantra that new stuff = happy.
But when the you-know-what really hits the fan and we want to be new…
…what then?
Returning to ancient grace
As much as we try to remake ourselves, we can’t. No matter what gurus might preach about building new personal brands and starting over, our own effort doesn’t change anything. We don’t get it with a different job, clothes, partner, or anything else visible to the world.
What changes us — what makes us new — is clinging to the old.
Going back to one cross, lifted thousands of years ago.
Returning to the grace of two beams of wood bloodied in the assault of One who didn’t deserve to be bloodied and, by faith, casting off everything we used to be.
That newness is what Paul talked about in Corinthians 5:7: “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (NIV)
It isn’t like the flavor-of-the-month unnecessary micro-iterations companies roll out to look good and manipulate a reason for a higher price. It’s not impulsive or temporary. It completely destroys our history, previous identity, and even goals we might have pursued for years.
It can even make you rethink a song you hate, highlighting the message instead of the memory, so the song isn’t dark anymore.
Giving back the helm
What’s scariest through this rebirth often isn’t the transformation. We usually want that and seek growth out.
It’s the not having control over what we transform into.
Most of us believe that if we can direct who we are, we also can direct what will happen to us and what we will do. But when we cling to the old cross so many artists have crooned about, we have to trust that God knows exactly how we need to be remade. We don’t get to hold the wheel on our redesign.
That can be terrifying.
But God’s been in the business of designing for all of time. He doesn’t make mistakes in it.
That holds even when you don’t feel worthy of being remade.
The harsh reality is that none of us are worthy of our transformation. Yet, He cares enough to perform it perfectly through Jesus anyway.
None of what’s new in the world is worth chasing. What God makes new in our spirit is priceless.
The way there is free, reliable, and ancient. We just have to cling to it.
This content will be syndicated to faithfulontheclock.com February 25, 2026.
Clips: Canva Pro License
Music: Anastasia Chubarova from Pixabay (https://pixabay.com/music/solo-piano-the-old-rugged-cross-146075/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)
