Today’s a new day! As we walk through Holy Week, I have been reflecting on Jesus and the Cross.

The cross is where we see Jesus at his most human, but also at his most divine. My heart breaks reading about his anguish, even though I know the triumph to come. This in itself is something Jesus understood – when his friend Lazarus had died (John 11:38-44), Jesus wept even though he knew that in a moment he would raise him to life again.

It’s emotional to read the account of Jesus‘ arrest, beating and crucifixion. My heart breaks for him when he struggles with God’s will and yet accepts it. Even when an angel appears and strengthens him, Jesus is still in anguish and “he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.” (Luke 22:42-44).

And Jesus went through all of this for you and I. While we were yet still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8). This is what the cross means. This is what Jesus’ suffering means. His anguish, his pain, his fear, his sorrow – Yet He took our place.

Even though I know what happened next, I still feel the sting of shame that it was my sin that put Jesus on that Cross.

As I have been reading the accounts of Jesus death the last few days, something stood out to me. Something I really had not given much thought to, but on this Holy Week it caught my eye. Or maybe my heart. Jesus, on the road to his own crucifixion, having accepted the will of God, even though his body was broken, was forced to accept the suffering of another on his account.

As we read in scripture, a man named Simon of Cyrene was ordered to help carry the cross as Jesus was struggling (Luke 23:26). No easy task. The crossbar of the cross is estimated to have weighed around 70-90 pounds and the whole cross weighed between 220-300 pounds. Even carrying the crossbar would have been a struggle for this man named Simon on a long journey through jeering crowds along hot dusty roads to the crucifixion site – but the whole cross had to be so much more of a struggle. And Simon must have tripped and strained and stumbled his way behind Jesus. And Jesus, walking in front, knew this man Simon was there. And knew he must have been suffering.

If I was Jesus, I probably would have felt some shame. Shame for the pain Simon was enduring after being randomly picked out of the crowd and forced to suffer because of me.

But this is where again we remember that Jesus was fully human. He felt what I feel when I contemplate the cross. He knows and understands us and our emotions so well – because he felt them.

And this is where I remember not to stay in my shame. You see, shame can be a catalyst to change the heart. Shame is never a place we should live. But because I am aware of my sin, I feel shame. That shame should give me the initiative to breathe life into my faith with deeds – deeds of gratitude and obedience to the one who saved me, the one who gave everything for me.

This shame should lead us to a gratitude deeper than any ocean. Jesus hung on that Cross for me – for all of us – while we were still sinners. While we didn’t know him, while we ignored him, while we held him on the cross with our sins. The expanse of God’s mercy is breathtaking.

Jesus, our Savior. So human. So divine. It’s unfathomable. And yet we can see these little glimpses in the gospels of the state of his heart, which in turn helps us to understand the glory of his divinity.

I encourage everyone to spend some time reading the accounts of Jesus crucifixion this Holy Week. Truly hear his words. Feel his pain. And remember his glory. Because Jesus actions are about the glory, not about the shame. Let your shame lead you to gratitude, as we celebrate Easter this coming Sunday. Let us bow down and worship at Jesus feet, because He deserves our everything. ~OC