The Light of the Cross
One of the most jaw-dropping moments I've ever had was a visit to University Square in Bucharest, just five years after the chaotic revolution that toppled the despotic communist leader Nicolae Ceausescu.
It wasn't the beauty of the buildings that caused my jaw to drop. No, it was the bullet holes.
You see, right there events had taken place that I'd seen on the news. Epochal, history-forming events. Soldiers and policemen who were loyal to the teetering regime had hemmed in a peaceful protest against their dictator and had turned their guns on the protectors. Hundreds fell, right in the place where I stood.
And in little cubby-holes in the wall, close to the walls pock-marked with holes caused by the bullets that took their lives, little metal shrines stood, with candles burning.
It was hauntingly beautiful. Light in the place where once darkness ruled.
This is exactly where our perspectives need changing. This isn't the determination of an eternal optimist who is so overcome with the silver lining that they fail to see the cloud.
No, this is down-to-earth realism. What I am about to describe are real shining lights in the darkest place imaginable on earth: the foot of the cross.
Firstly, we see love:
Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing near by, he said to her, ‘Woman, here is your son,’ and to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ From that time on, this disciple took her into his home.
John 19:25-27 NIVUK
As we read through the Gospels, we might mistakenly believe that Jesus had a strained relationship with his family. Take these events, for example:
While Jesus was still talking to the crowd, his mother and brothers stood outside, wanting to speak to him. Someone told him, ‘Your mother and brothers are standing outside, wanting to speak to you.’ He replied to him, ‘Who is my mother, and who are my brothers?’ Pointing to his disciples, he said, ‘Here are my mother and my brothers. For whoever does the will of my Father in heaven is my brother and sister and mother.’
Matthew 12:46-50 NIVUK
After this, Jesus went around in Galilee. He did not want to go about in Judea because the Jewish leaders there were looking for a way to kill him. But when the Jewish Festival of Tabernacles was near, Jesus’ brothers said to him, ‘Leave Galilee and go to Judea, so that your disciples there may see the works you do. No-one who wants to become a public figure acts in secret. Since you are doing these things, show yourself to the world.’ For even his own brothers did not believe in him.
John 7:1-5 NIVUK
But that would be wrong. It's clear from Scripture that if there was the slightest trace of grievance or misunderstanding, then it was only one-sided: it didn't come from Jesus.
There is no greater manifestation of this than at the cross.
Jesus was not seated on an easy-chair in a cosy pair of slippers. No, He was in unimaginable agony. The cross was a heartlessly cruel way to kill anyone: for Jesus to breathe, He would have to raise Himself up on His nail wounds. This would be completely agonising and would aggravate them. Coupled with the excruciating pain would be the tiredness. Most victims of the cross didn't die from blood loss: they died from asphyxiation as they gradually became too tired to raise themselves up to breathe.
In these dreadful circumstances, and the terrible pain just to breathe, let alone talk, the act of love here is astounding. In extraordinary agony, Jesus makes the effort to care for His mother.
You see, Mary's situation would now be quite serious - not as serious as Jesus, of course, but still serious all the same. Joseph has not been mentioned in the Gospels for some time by now. This leads most commentators to believe that, as he was older than Mary, he was probably already dead. This means that Mary's main means of income would be her sons - the oldest of which is slowly fading away in deadly agony in front of her.
We don't know to what extent Jesus' brothers were able to earn an income by then. What we do know is that Jesus is keen for His mother to be taken care of, and so He makes her the responsibility of 'the disciple [he] loved' - which is John's way of referring to himself.
And before certain sectors of our society get excited, the Greek word used here is 'agapao', meaning a pure, divine, unconditional love - nothing more.
In the midst of losing His life, and while fighting for every agonising breath, Jesus still thinks of others first.
But this shouldn't surprise us. The cross itself is the most spectacular example of someone putting the needs of others before their own:
‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.
John 10:11 NIVUK
Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
Philippians 2:3-5 NIVUK
Jesus went to the cross to save others. Because He was saving others, He could not save Himself. He actively demonstrates this by asking the closest of His disciples to take care of His broken, mourning mother.
There is a fundamental truth here. If we focus on our own suffering and pain, we can become selfish, neurotic egotists who ignore others and lose all sense of perspective on our own suffering. Such people are dreadful to be around. A real drag.
I should know. I was one. For years. I carried the cross of living in a poor neighbourhood where our family was a target for the ignorant, the intolerant and the just plain stupid. And I made sure other people knew about that cross at every opportunity. You see, I thought there was nothing else special about me, but that I could gain attention, and maybe even affection, if I played up my affliction.
And that was a thoroughly unhealthy thing to do. You see, by focusing on my own suffering, I began to believe my own press. I became negative, introverted and depressive. I played the victim card because I honestly believed it was the only card I had.
It took successive trips to Romania, and latterly to the Philippines, to yank that kind of thinking from me for good. After all, how can I maintain that I'm special because of what I'm suffering when there are billions of people suffering far worse than me? And some of them even suffer with a smile on their face!
But do you know what really pulled me out of my self-obsession? Having to care for and minister to other people. Needing to help them and pull them up rather than waiting on someone to come and do it for me. Realising that they were relying on me and not the other way around.
Suddenly my cross seemed a lot lighter.
Now I'm not saying that Jesus caring for His mother while dying on the cross would have had an analgesic effect or stemmed the bleeding. Not at all.
What I am saying is that caring for others when we ourselves are 'Not Okay' can help us gain a truer perspective on our situation that helps us change the mood music in our head.
I'm also not saying that we should sacrifice ourselves until there's nothing left for other people. That's an utterly senseless thing to do: how can we have the resources to care for other people if we don't also care for ourselves?
I'm saying that we can find light in the darkness when we are required to carry our cross if we care a little more for others and become a little less self-centred.
After all, we call ourselves Christians, and that's what Christ did.
So we've seen the light of love. Next we see the light of faith:
One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other criminal rebuked him. ‘Don’t you fear God,’ he said, ‘since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.’
Luke 23:39-43 NIVUK
The scene here is incredible. The Jewish leaders and their acolytes - supposedly spiritual men - are hurling insults at Jesus. His disciples are cowering in fear. Yet one man shows faith and trust in Jesus.
And who is he?
A nameless convicted felon. A thief.
Extraordinary.
A man who is hung beside Jesus. A man whose life is slowly ebbing away. A man who has lost everything.
And what is it that attracts him to Jesus when there was nothing at all attractive about Him (Isaiah 53:2), and even more so now (Isaiah 52:14)? What led him to trust in a man who was being crucified like he was?
His innocence. Jesus was innocent (Luke 23:41).
His character and standing. He recognised that, despite their current dreadful circumstances, Jesus was about to come into His Kingdom, something even the judge who condemned them both to death had not yet fully figured out (John 18:36-38).
Yet this man, in a situation so terrible and beyond description, looks on the wounded, bloodied Christ and puts his faith in Him. Not in conniving. Not in craftiness. Not in his cleverness as a thief. But in Christ.
Remarkable. Quite remarkable.
There are many who make excuses to not repent and believe the Gospel. They blame the past actions of the church or other believers or difficulty reconciling it to Enlightenment thinking. And I understand it.
But I can't agree with it. Not when a thief with nothing to lose or gain stares on the bloodied and bruised body of Jesus Christ, struggling for every breath in unthinkable agony, and says to himself, 'This man will come into a kingdom. I want to be with Him.'
Let me tell you something else that is completely remarkable: Jesus rewards His faith. Jesus promises this man a place with Him in paradise.
But hold on a minute. This man is a thief. He is a convicted felon. And to be crucified like this he would have to be the worst kind of thief, or caught stealing from someone important. Yet Jesus forgives Him. Just like that. And all of a sudden, a man who has thoroughly wasted his life is given a place in Heaven?
But how?
Perhaps Ezekiel can explain it:
‘But if a wicked person turns away from all the sins they have committed and keeps all my decrees and does what is just and right, that person will surely live; they will not die. None of the offences they have committed will be remembered against them. Because of the righteous things they have done, they will live. Do I take any pleasure in the death of the wicked? declares the Sovereign Lord. Rather, am I not pleased when they turn from their ways and live?
Ezekiel 18:21-23 NIVUK
But surely this man has no time to provide evidence of his repentance! Surely this man has no time to prove his life changed!
So why is Jesus allowing him into Heaven?
The Bible again explains it:
For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no-one can boast.
Ephesians 2:8-9 NIVUK
This man was not saved because of any good things he did - he didn't have time to do any. But he was saved because, against everything he saw, this man trusted in Jesus while many, many others turned away. It was his faith that saved him, not his works.
And this is one of the great encounters that helps us truly understand the Gospel. A man who could no longer do any good is saved because of the one good thing he did do - he had faith in Jesus.
Although there is no way that we should leave it this late - unless we actually want to waste every moment God gives us - we can take considerable hope from this. When our lives are faltering and everything seems to be going wrong, we know that if we trust in Jesus and put our hope in Him we will be saved.
So we see the lights of love and faith. The last light of cross is reconciliation:
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people. When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, ‘Surely he was the Son of God!’
Matthew 27:51-54 NIVUK
There were many wonderous signs in the moment when Jesus died. The earth shook. The rocks split. Tombs opened. Holy people rose up from the dead and appeared to many. This is such a terrifying moment that even the pagan men guarding Jesus were terrified and confessed that Jesus must have been divine in some way.
But there is one particular sign and reaction to the cross that I want to focus on: the tearing of the curtain.
That curtain is highly symbolic from a Jewish point of view. It's first mentioned way back when the Tent of Meeting was being set up by Moses:
‘Make a curtain of blue, purple and scarlet yarn and finely twisted linen, with cherubim woven into it by a skilled worker. Hang it with gold hooks on four posts of acacia wood overlaid with gold and standing on four silver bases. Hang the curtain from the clasps and place the ark of the covenant law behind the curtain. The curtain will separate the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place.
Exodus 26:31-33 NIVUK
Jewish worship was neither egalitarian nor democratic nor inclusive. Not one bit. The Most Holy Place was at the centre of a series of courtyards where people could worship according to how holy their society viewed them. There was a court of Gentiles, women and men. Then there was the Holy Place, where priests and Levites only would carry put their work.
And at the centre of it all, behind a thick, embroidered curtain, where only a High Priest could go, and even then, only once a year (Hebrews 9:7), was the Most Holy Place.
The very presence of God.
But as Jesus breathed His last, an amazing act of Divine vandalism took place. That ancient curtain that separated the Presence of God from the vast majority of His people was ripped from top to bottom. Now they could enter in. Now they could see. Now they could know God far closer and more intimately than every before.
The ancient curtain that had stood in place for thousands of years had now gone.
As sudden and as violent an act as this would seem to be, it shouldn't have been unexpected. It was actually predicted in ancient prophecies:
‘This is the covenant that I will make with the people of Israel after that time,’ declares the Lord. ‘I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people. No longer will they teach their neighbour, or say to one another, “Know the Lord,” because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest,’ declares the Lord. ‘For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.’
Jeremiah 31:33-34 NIVUK
These prophecies began to be fulfilled at Christmas, when Jesus was born as a baby:
Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.
Isaiah 7:14 NIVUK
The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
John 1:14 NIVUK
They were fulfilled as Jesus walked our earth, teaching, preaching, healing and leading many to Himself.
They were fulfilled as His death ripped the barrier between us and God - not just the curtain barrier, but the sin barrier:
God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
2 Corinthians 5:21 NIVUK
And their ultimate fulfilment is in Heaven:
And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Look! God’s dwelling-place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.
Revelation 21:3 NIVUK
The barrier between God and mankind is down. The sin curtain is torn. The way is open for every human being on this earth to approach their God in the confidence that only comes because the penalty for our sin has been paid on the cross.
I will never forget 1989. I'll never forget the abject horror of watching Chinese soldiers turning on peaceful protestors in Tiannenmen Square. It was still eerie for me to go there more than three decades later and file under the giant picture of Mao into the Forbidden City.
But I'll also never, ever forget the scenes at the Berlin Wall, at Hegyshalom and at numerous other places where the barriers tumbled in Europe and people were united once more.
However, the curtain in the Temple was a far greater, far more destructive barrier. Praise God that it is torn and we can be reconciled with God through Jesus' sacrifice on the cross.
The cricifixion is one of the single darkest moments in human history. There is little doubt about that. But regardless of whatever cross we have to bear as we read these lines, we can hold one essential truth in our hearts:
Even when the darkness is at its greatest, it cannot overcome the light (John 1:4-5).
If we have entrusted ourselves to Jesus Christ, we have entrusted ourselves to this invulnerable, invincible light.
The hope of a Christian is absolute and certain. Because the light always wins.
Questions:
1) How meaningful for you is Jesus' gesture to Mary from the cross?
2) If you were in Jesus' place, would you have allowed the dying thief to be with you in Paradise? Why?
3) Since God Himself destroyed the barrier between Him and mankind, what will you do with this opportunity to have a new, more intimate relationship with God?
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