On a couch of gold and ivory stood a wax image of Augustus Caesar, conqueror of his world, founder and ruler of the Roman Empire. Upon it, Augustus himself reclines. He took the name Caesar from his powerful uncle, but no mortal ruler had ever been called Augustus ("The Majestic") until now. It was the title of a god.
When he said, "Go," his followers went. What he said he wanted done was done. If there was any question as to the intent behind anything he commissioned, clarity was sought after until it was had, so that his people were certain that they were carrying out his will. The known world was his, after all. He had earned it with the spilt blood of his soldiers through his power.
Nestled in the landscape of Galilee was an unimpressive hill, upon which stood Jesus Christ, conqueror of sin and death, founder and ruler of the church. Upon him, the marks of his suffering and crucifixion can be seen on his now restored body. He took the name Jesus ("the Lord saves") Christ ("anointed one"), both pointing not to himself, but to Someone else.
When he says, "Go," his followers are to go. What he says he wants done should be done. If there is any question as to the intent behind anything he commissions, clarity should be sought after until it is had, so that his people are certain they are carrying out his will. The whole world is his, after all. He has earned it with his own spilt blood through his love.
"That thing we do" at Southwest, the making of disciples, centers on our dogged resolve to be about his will. Are you clear on his commission? Is your life a clear demonstration of his marching orders?
The king has spoken. Have you heard him?