“Objects of the Passion: The Cross”
“Objects of the Passion: The Cross”
Hebrews 12.1-3
Hebrews 12.1-3
In the name of the Living God and the Crucified Christ. Amen.
Our Lenten series this year is entitled “Objects of the Passion” as we’re focusing on specific items or locations recorded in the passion narratives. Throughout these forty days we’ll see thirty shining pieces of silver, witness a sword slice a servant’s ear, hear the Temple curtain torn in two, feel a towel drying our feet, or grimace as a crown of thorns presses into the savior’s skull. But how could we not start with “The Cross” which stands before us this Ash Wednesday as Christianity’s most iconic object? Indeed, it is the cross which has marked our foreheads, and which Jesus himself bids us take up and carry. And as a Lutheran Church, we surely must remark with Martin Luther himself and exclaim, “The CROSS alone is our theology!” [i]
The writer of the book of Hebrews places the Cross before us today as both comfort and example: “[let us look] to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down on the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12.2, NIV).
We’re so used to the symbol of the cross—its use is ubiquitous: hanging around our necks or from our earrings, or tattooed upon our arms, or knitted on our flags, or transcribed in our music, or etched on our tombstones. It’s such a common symbol that Challenge Number One for the preacher is to help us take a step back from all of this, and focus for a moment on the cross’s uneasy, offensive origins.
A little history: the cross was a specifically designed instrument of pain and shame. That is, ancient peoples used it to cause maximum suffering for the individual while also making sure that that suffering was lifted up in plain sight for all to see. The worst criminals, defeated enemies, despised traitors, hated rebels, all suffered the ignominy of crucifixion in order that their horrible deaths might deter others. It was meant to completely debase the dying individual, whose defeat in death was regarded as evidence of their abject lowliness.
The Romans weren’t the only ancient empires to use crucifixion, but they sure excelled at it. They had a number of different methods cruelly perfected over the centuries—I’ll spare you the details—but this much you need to know: it was never private. There were cheaper, faster, more efficient ways of killing criminals, but the cross’s pain was to be a public shaming of an individual or group of individuals. Its victims defeated, despicable, disfigured, hanging naked for all to see and mock.
I describe the cross for you, not just to be shockingly graphic (I’ve got your attention, though, don’t I?), but to help us all understand the great irony that an instrument of pain and shame is our most precious, abiding symbol. And to help us understand why this might be.
The writer to the Hebrews, again: “For the joy set before him, Jesus endured the cross, disregarding its shame.” Our Lord for joy endured this spectacle, casting aside its shame, because he knew that’s where he would find us. Find all of us.
God meets us here, at the cross, in Christ. God meets all of us here. Even at our lowest. Even at our most broken. Even in our suffering. Even when life’s done its worst on us. Even in our sin. Even in our dust. Had he not descended into the depths for us, he would not have reached into the depths of our humanity, gathering all to himself. Had he not endured this shame, his love would have been only partial, only conditional, only for the worthy and well-respected, only for the victors, the pretty, the talented, the successful. But because our Lord Jesus in joy endured the cross’s pain and shame, we know he is for everyone, and that means he’s for you today too, no matter who you are or how far you’ve fallen or what brought you here.
The cross was not the end. We know this. We don’t worship a dead criminal, but a living Lord, who gave death its final body blow at his rising on the third day, on Easter. But the cross had to be the beginning, for here is underserved, unfathomable, unending grace poured out for all. We are reconciled to God because God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself (2 Cor. 5.19). Only in the cross do we find full forgiveness. Only in the cross do we plum the full depths of God’s love.
So wear the cross around your neck. Tattoo it on your arm if you like. Place it over your bed or entry way. Get it etched on your forehead today as a reminder of your own mortality. But most importantly, hold it in your heart. The creator of the universe, the Holy Almighty God, went through the pain and the shame of the cross for you. This means He will always walk with you, no matter what road you must walk or what cross you must carry.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.
[i] CRUX sola est nostra Theologia, WA 5.176.32