“Bring Forth the Royal Diadem, and Crown Him Lord of All”

Today I was reading from a book called “The Pursuit of the Holy” by J. Oswald Sanders, and I was really struck by an illustration that he used. The chapter I was reading was dealing with the Lordship of Christ, a term that I’ve heard many times before but never really understood. Sanders deeply challenges his readers to examine their hearts to determine whether Christ is in fact the Lord of their lives.

It’s so easy to put Christ on the throne of our lives in one moment and then replace Him with something or someone in the next. Christ is in fact Lord of all. He has a right to the throne of our lives and our hearts, and doubly so because of His sacrifice on the cross. Both who He is and what He has done demand the position of King, the position of Lord in our lives.

I was challenged to think again about what it means to call Jesus my Lord. I think Christians get so used to throwing that word around that they often forget its meaning. To call Him Lord is to say that you have surrendered everything to Him. To call Him Lord is to acknowledge both His salvation unto us and His continuing sovereignty over us. I can honestly say that I have loosely called Him Lord on many occasions when I wasn’t giving Him that place in my heart.

To bow down and humble yourself before God and submit to Him as Lord of your life is an ongoing battle. It’s a battle to be willing to do this and then a battle to succeed in doing this. It’s also scary too. The thought of losing control and giving everything to God is incredibly terrifying. However, His Word says, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Pr. 3:5-6)

With the wonderful promise of a straight path before us, we can trust God as the Lord of our lives. In his book, Sanders tells an awesome story that brings this truth to life:

“The organist in a village in Germany was playing some music of Mendelssohn, and was not playing it very well. A stranger, hearing the music, crept into the church and sat in the dimness of the back pew, where he heard the imperfections of the organist’s performance. When he ceased playing and prepared to depart, the stranger said, “Sir, would you allow me to play the organ for a little while?”

“Certainly not,” was the surly answer. “I never allow anyone to touch the organ but myself.”

“I should be so grateful if you would give me the privilege,” persisted the stranger.

Again he met with gruff refusal. The third time his appeal was allowed, but most ungraciously.

The stranger sat down, adjusted the stops, and began to play the same piece, but with what a difference. It seemed as if the whole church was filled with heavenly music.

The organist looked askance and asked, “Who are you?”

Modestly the stranger replied, “I am Mendelssohn.”

“What,” cried the organist in deep mortification, “did I refuse you to play on my organ?”

That is what we do with Christ when we refuse Him the opportunity to take the instrument of our redeemed personalities, and bring out the harmonies of heaven.”

Wow! Isn’t that awesome?! What a difference it makes when we let the creator of humanity itself be the Lord of our lives. This week, I would encourage you to join me in reflecting upon these questions: Do I have the desire to submit to Christ’s supreme Lordship over me? Am I letting Christ take His rightful throne as the Lord of my life? Am I succeeding in keeping Christ on the throne of my life and everything else off of the throne from moment to moment? May God challenge you through this and bring you to a deeper understanding of yourself and of Him.