In the first century, the cross was not an emblem of faith, hope, or redemption—it was a dreaded instrument of execution. It was never used as a religious symbol or worn as jewelry. A cross represented disgrace, torture, and death.
The fact that a symbol of terror should become the ultimate sign of love and hope is one of the profound paradoxes of history. It underscores the mysterious power of the gospel.
It all began with a crucifixion outside the walls of Jerusalem.
Jesus the Messiah was betrayed by one of His followers and arrested. A mock trial was held, and He was sentenced to death. The Romans then executed Him in the most horrific manner ever devised by human minds. He was subjected to the supreme dishonor of hanging naked on the spikes of a Roman cross. There, before the gaze of a mocking crowd, He agonized, bled, and died.
Crucifixion inflicted a maximum amount of suffering for a prolonged period. It was exceedingly painful and slow.
Roman statesman Cicero called crucifixion “the most cruel and disgusting penalty.” Jewish historian Josephus described it as “the most wretched of deaths.”
Death on a cross exposed the victim to public ridicule and contempt. To be crucified meant ultimate disgrace, and in a society where honor is prized above all—this was the most dreaded part.
N. T. Wright explains:
Crucifixion was . . . not just a means of liquidating undesirables; it did so with the maximum degradation and humiliation.[1]
In ancient Rome, the repulsive four-letter word crux (cross) was not to be uttered in polite company. Jews viewed crucifixion as a sign of a divine curse (Deuteronomy 21:23; Galatians 3:13). It is no wonder that one biblical writer refers to the “open shame” (Hebrews 6:6) of crucifixion and speaks of “the disgrace He bore” (13:13 NLT).
Matthew, in his account of the Passion, says little about the physical sufferings of Jesus (Matthew 27:27-44). He directs our attention elsewhere. For Matthew, the cross is about humanity’s mockery of God. It is a cross of shame.
In the book Bevis: The Story of a Boy by novelist Richard Jefferies, a young boy is fascinated by a picture of Jesus dying on a cross:
The Crucifixion hurt his feelings very much; the cruel nails; the unfeeling spear; he looked at the picture a long time and then turned the page saying, “If God had been there, He would not have let them do it.”
If God had been there!
The supreme irony is this: He was there.
He was the one hanging on the cross!
Here we stand, thunderstruck.
If nothing worse can befall a human being, what can we make of the bloody disgrace of God on a cross? Could anything be more bewildering, more astonishing, more atrocious?
For the Lord of the universe to enter His own creation and become human is a staggering thought. But for Him to be spat upon, mocked, tortured, and killed by His rebel creatures in the most barbaric manner possible leaves us speechless. Who can possibly get his mind around that?
Imagine a traveler arriving in Jerusalem on the day Jesus of Nazareth was executed. As he approaches the city gates, he glances over and sees the Galilean suffering the agony of crucifixion. Then he hears the man cry out,
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Would the stranger think, “Wow, there’s the Son of God giving His life to redeem the world”?
Hardly.
The onlooker would surely conclude, “There’s another God-forsaken lawbreaker dying for his crimes.” That is certainly how it appeared: another villain paying for his wrongdoing.
But the traveler would have been dead wrong! This was no God-forsaken lawbreaker.
No, this was God unwilling to forsake the lawbreakers of the world. This was God stooping so low to lift up fallen people that He looked like a lawbreaker.
The Bible says, “He was numbered with the transgressors” (Mark 15:28). Three “criminals” were executed that day, but one of them was the holy God shaming Himself in order to free us from our guilt and shame.
Nothing more shocking has ever happened in the history of the world.
This was the shaming of the King of Glory.
Bearing shame and scoffing rude
In my place condemned He stood,
Sealed my pardon with his blood,
Hallelujah, what a Savior!
This was the price He was willing to pay to win us back.
This was God disgracing Himself as He took upon Himself our sin and shame.
This is the shocking beauty of Cross.
On three occasions, Jesus speaks of His imminent death as the hour of His “glorification” (John 12:23; 13:31; 17:1). Our Lord is clearly referring to the cross, and He makes a puzzling connection between death and glory. In John’s Gospel, the cross, the ultimate symbol of “shame”—turns out to be “glory.” The cross is not the humiliation of the Son of God. It is His glorification.
The death of Christ on a cross caused God’s glory to shine forth as the crushing of a rose releases its fragrance. The place of shame took on a deep, mysterious splendor.
Christ also saw the cross as a moment of conquest:
Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be cast out. (John 12:31)
When hell’s hatred inspired cruel hands to nail Jesus of Nazareth to a Roman cross—the victim turned everything around and became the Victor. On that cross, death was defeated, the curse was annulled, sin was overthrown, guilt was eradicated, captives were set free, hell was humiliated, and love won.
By weakness and defeat,
He won the meed and crown;
Trod all our foes beneath His feet
By being trodden down.[2]
The cross became the basis upon which this fractured world is finally set right.
And by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven, having made peace through the blood of His cross. (Colossians 1:20)
All things that are broken, twisted, and ruined by the Fall will ultimately be “reconciled” by means of a shameful cross. The mighty Redeemer will bring the story of our world to a glorious conclusion—the renewal and restoration of all things (Acts 3:21). God’s creation will be drenched in a glory greater than that which it had at the beginning—thanks to the cross.
History will end with an innumerable company of those who were “ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,” singing the praises of the One who redeemed them by his blood. The universe will reverberate with the celebration of victory that was won at the cross.
The ultimate symbol of shame will be hailed as the ultimate cause of glory.
No wonder Paul could say:
But far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ ... (Galatians 6:14 RSV).
Those words would have shocked the Roman world.
No one ever dreamed a cross could be glorious.
Until God got on one.
He makes all things glorious.
Even a shameful cross.
Bio: Dr. Jurgen Schulz is a Canadian missionary from Victoria, B.C., who, along with his wife Wendy, has served in Bolivia for over forty years. He is currently an instructor at the Seminario Bíblico Evangélico in the Andean city of La Paz, Bolivia.
Last year, Jurgen was granted an honorary doctorate by the Universidad Nuestro Pacto International. You can read more about the ministries of Jurgen and Wendy at this link on the MSC website.
Jurgen has written several books, including What Story Have We Fallen Into?, which you can purchase at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Indigo, and other stores.
Notes:
[1] N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996), 543.
[2] Samuel Whitelock Gandy. “Meed” means a “deserved reward.”
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