What does the cross mean?

•And why did this man have those injuries?

A man and his wife hosted a Japanese student in their home in Cambridge, England. One weekend the student toured the art galleries of Paris. Upon her return, in the course of a meal, she suddenly asked – drawing a cross on the table – “What does this mean? And why did the man have those injuries?”[1]

Great art can depict events and people in a way that excites our emotions, captures our imagination, and stirs our minds. But only words can tell us why. The Gospel of Mark, the shortest of the four gospels, written especially for the busy Romans of old, vividly portrays in staccato-like scenes the story of Jesus and his cross. But Mark brings in enough detail to tell us both the “what” and the “why” – what does the cross of Jesus mean? And why did this man have those injuries?

• The Who

The “why” begins with the “who.” Who is this man Jesus? Mark immediately takes us to the Jordan River, which runs south through the land of Israel. There in the Judean desert a man named John, dressed like the prophet Elijah (eight centuries earlier), proclaims in fiery tones, “Repent (change your ways) and be dipped in water as a sign of your turning from your sins.”  John announces that he has come to prepare the way before the coming of the Lord, the God of Israel. 

Then a strange thing happens. Another preacher named Jesus comes to be dipped in the water of the river. John at first refuses because this Jesus is that coming King, and John is merely his servant. But John finally allows Jesus to be dipped in the waters of the Jordan River. When Jesus comes out of the water, a sound thunders from the sky, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him!” And then a being comes down on Jesus gracefully like a dove. John knows that this is the Holy Spirit of God taking a visible shape. “I saw the Holy Spirit descend,” he says.

John knew that Jesus was a human being, a fellow Jew like himself. Now he (and we) know one other important fact: Jesus is the Son of God. There is one God, according to the “Hear, O Israel” (Deut 6:4) recited by Jews for centuries. But in the fullness of God there is the Father who spoke from on high at the Jordan, the Son standing in the river who has taken on human flesh, and the Holy Spirit who descended according to the prophecy of Isaiah (Isa 61:1).

People inside and outside the land of Israel now hear this Jesus teach and see him heal the sick and even raise the dead, Mark tells us. And the disciples of Jesus hear him and see him for many months up close and personal. For instance, at Jesus’ house in Capernaum (in Galilee, north of Judea), many came to the door for healing. One time four men brought a paralyzed man lying on a mat. When they saw they couldn’t get inside the house because of the crush of people, they came up with an idea.

The four men went up to the roof of this first century Palestinian home, removed part of the roof and lowered the man down in front of Jesus. Jesus told the man, “Son, your sins are forgiven.” Some Scripture scholars in the house quickly but quietly said, “Why does this man speak like that? He is blaspheming! Who can forgive sins but God alone?” So Jesus proved his divine authority to forgive sins by saying to the man, “I say to you, rise, pick up your bed, and go home.” Immediately the paralyzed man stood, picked up his makeshift bed and walked out in front of everyone. The Son of God is God just as much as the Father is God.

After all these experiences, Jesus asked his close disciples a simple but perplexing question: “Who do people say I am?”  “A prophet…,” they blurt out. “And who do you say I am?” he probes. They answer, “You are the Christ (the Messiah, the promised prophet, priest, and king).”[2] Jesus explains, “You did not learn this from yourselves, but my Father taught you this fact.” They (and we) learn one more thing about who Jesus is: he is God's promised prophet (speaking the words of God), priest (offering the sacrifice for the sins of the people), and king (worldwide ruler) - the Messiah.

At the climax of Mark’s story, Jesus is brutally beaten with a whip (scourged) by Roman soldiers and then killed in a slow, excruciating way on a Roman cross [3]. When Jesus dies, a hardened Roman army officer pensively concludes, “Truly this (man) was God’s Son.” Mark ends where he begins: Jesus is a man (human enough to die) and is also the divine Son of the living God. 

• The Why

But why did this Jesus have to die such a horrible death? Again, Mark’s cameos pierce the mind like arrows. On the way to Jerusalem with his disciples, Jesus tells them, “[I,] the Son of Man, came not to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for the many.” The term “son of man” would remind the disciples of the Hebrew Scriptures. “Son of man” is a synonym for “man” (for instance, Psalm 8:4). “Son of Man” is also the term for the universal ruler at the end time foretold by the Book of Daniel (Dan 7:13-14). “Ransom” is a sacrifice whose death buys a person back from captivity (spiritually, from captivity as a slave of sin). In the Dead Sea Scrolls “the many” are the community of believers. So what Jesus was saying is this: “I can into the world as a lowly servant to offer my life as a sacrifice for the sins of the believing community.”

Then on the Roman cross, when Jesus dies, a most unusual event happens, Mark reports. The curtain in the temple of Jerusalem is torn in two. The curtain separated sinful people from the presence of the perfect, pure, and holy God. With the death of Jesus this separation is now gone. What must we do? We must accept the death of Jesus as the ransom for our sins. We must trust in God in all his fullness – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We must become a part of the believing community. And, as Jesus had earlier told his disciples in the Gospel of Mark, we must “deny ourselves” (give up all selfishness), “take up our cross daily” (putting to death our sinful thoughts, emotions, and deeds), “and follow Jesus” as our new Lord and Master.

• Not so fast – I have my doubts

So did Ivan.[4] He was born in Iraq of a culturally Christian mother from Armenia and a liberal Arab Muslim father. When his dad had to flee Iraq during Saddam Hussein's rule, his dad sent Ivan (a teenager) to study on his own in Czechoslovakia. There Ivan lived for eight years and embraced materialistic philosophy, atheism and communion. He looked back at himself:

To me, religion was basically a waste of time. I had no respect for religion because I thought it was all made up of fantasies and myths: that people twisted things to suit their agendas and they created systems of belief to manipulate weak and disillusioned people.

One day he lost his temper with the woman he loved at the time, and she up and left him. He just couldn’t face the loss, and it showed him the weakness of his inner strength and of his materialistic philosophy of life. Suddenly he realized, “I am to be pitied like those people I pitied before.” So he started reading the Bible from its first book Genesis, later went to church, and still later joined a Bible study course that took participants through the Gospel of Mark. Sitting in the course on Mark, he had honest skepticism:

Me being from the Middle East, we always have a suspicious mind, we always think there’s something not true in what people say. So I tried to ask all the questions to find out if the leaders on my table would tell me the truth or if they would try to manipulate me or try to twist things or soften things up so I would think, “Actually it’s not so bad.” I discovered that no, they were just plainly explaining what the Bible was saying.

Through the Gospel of Mark, he started to realize who Jesus Christ really was, what he taught, and what he did – what I have called “the who” and “the why.” Ivan said of Jesus Christ:

I thought: “This is the person I always wanted to be like in my life. I never thought there was anyone who can be like this!” I was totally blown away by his integrity, and the things he did and the things he said. It was when I went on the day away, which is part of the course, that I just came to the conclusion that I could not keep denying the truth about Christ and who he is. And I just said: “That’s it—I don’t know what this is going to do to me, but I trust you and I’m ready to follow you whatever and wherever you take me.” And that was it.

What’s happening now with Ivan? In his words:

Life now has no meaning without Jesus Christ. It’s like a journey I am on with him—with the one person who we were created for. I can go walking all my life knowing that in the highs and the lows, in the sorrows and the joys, he is standing there with me, never leaving me or abandoning me. Not just that: this relationship doesn’t end with my death—actually it carries on forever. And that’s what I can look forward to—that’s what life is all about—not just now but also forever. I will enjoy that loving relationship with Jesus Christ forever.

[1] Christopher D. Hancock, “The Christological Problem,” in Donald Armstrong (ed.), Who Do You Say That I Am? (Grand Rapids, Mich.: William B. Eerdmans, 1999), p 10.

[2] “Christ” in Greek is the same word as “Messiah” in Hebrew and means “Anointed One,” a person designated for a public leadership function by having olive oil poured on his head.  In the Hebrew Scriptures prophets (ex: 1 Kings 19:16), priests (ex: Ex 28:41), and kings (ex: 1 Sam 10:1) were anointed with oil. “Anointed One” most typically refers to kings, both Israelite (Ps 2:2 with vs 6) and foreign (Isa 45:1).

[3] For historical background, see “Crucifixion in the Roman Period,” in David W. Chapman, Ancient Jewish and Christian Perceptions of Crucifixion (Tubingen, Germany: Mohr Siebeck, 2008), pp 69-96; and Martin Hengel, Crucifixion in the Ancient World and the Folly of the Message of the Cross (trans. John Bowden), Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1977 (entire book = pages 1-90). In Chapter 1, Hengel says: “For example Josephus, who as Jewish adviser to Titus during the siege of Jerusalem was witness to quite enough object lessons of this kind, describes crucifixion tersely and precisely as ‘the most wretched of deaths’ (θανάτων τὸν ἲκτιστον). In this context he reports that a threat by the Roman besiegers to crucify a Jewish prisoner caused the garrison of Machaerus to surrender in exchange for safe conduct.”

[4] “Ivan’s Story,” Christianity Explored. http://www.christianityexplored.org/real-life-stories/ivan. Accessed 9/4/2015.

[Pics used are photos by the author.]