The Cross in Easter
“The Cross is … to those being saved, the power of God” 1 Corinthians 1:18
Many of us, including myself, have heard, numerous times, the historical account of Jesus last few days before His crucifixion. Even so, there is still for me the twitch of conscience, on Maundy Thursday, when one by one the disciples ask, “Is it I?” Their query is a response to Jesus’ announcement that one of them will betray him. (Mark 14:19) In contemplating their question -- my question -- it is easy for me to reflect upon my own culpability in Jesus’ suffering and death. “My sin, Lord Jesus, caused your crucifixion.”
All of Jesus’ words on Good Friday’s cross have their impact, but the one question, and also the declaration of ultimate accomplishment, always shake the cobwebs from my mind.
The question: “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” (“My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me?”) speaks of an abandonment, a horror, far greater than death. It was endured for all by Jesus, because all humanity, even collectively, would never be able to endure it.
The exclamatory declaration, “It is finished!” trumpets a higher truth almost impossible to comprehend. Almost. It surely declares finality but it echoes the possibility of hope, of difference; of forgiveness, of peace.
Calvary’s cross -- an altar in time for eternity -- was only two pieces of wood and to most it appeared merely an angry instrument of torturous death. And when Good Friday’s tragedy was over and the nail and spear pierced body was removed and laid in a new tomb, it looked for all the world like the death of a defeated martyr.
But in reality (and especially for the eyes of faith) those two pieces of wood have arisen as a universal monument for eternity. They point to truth proven and freed and inexorably, even to the triumph of heaven’s Bright and Morning Star (Revelations 22:16) in the early dawn of Easter. No defeated martyr here!
Nevertheless, this quiet day of fear, of wondering, of hiding (Saturday) before Easter morning, allows the examining of one’s own life and intent. Death was clearly seen on Friday. It was real. It was ugly.
It is inevitable.
And so the question, “Is it nothing to you?” (Lamentations 1:12) needs to be asked. It also needs to be answered -- by each, individually -- as Jesus’ life, suffering, death, burial and resurrection are contemplated. Are we ALL – young and old, male and female, rich and poor, alike passing by the “man of sorrows” (Isaiah 53:3) without ever looking, contemplating, shivering with complicity? Are we that indifferent to all that has transpired? Are we so intoxicated with the world, its places and ways, a world which does sneer at the blood stained cross, “It IS nothing to us!” … that we have become castrated cross followers, cut off from its power?
How close I am, if not for grace -- blessed grace -- to similarly looking with disdain at the dying Messiah, and Calvary’s holy healing.
Before the Easter lighting of the new fire, and the explosion of light, and the jubilant awaking of triumphant music announcing Christ’s resurrection Victory, may God give us the grace to kneel in spirit at the spot where the Savior’s life-blood was shed and declare, “In the Cross of Christ I glory.”
By the mercy of God, the cross has become, and for all time will be, the anchor of saving faith, the lighthouse beacon of living hope, and the guarantee of my final redemption.
It is EVERYTHING, this cross and its Crucified, now risen Savior!
Everything to me, a sinner.