Crucifixion: Con Trick to Start a Religion?

A woman has been asked out by the man of her dreams. He is handsome, charming, strong and considerate. He has hired a box at the theatre and greets her with a single red rose and a heart-shaped box of chocolates bearing her name in gold-leaf letters. They hold hands throughout the performance and, during the interval, he presents her with a small jewellery box. She opens it and pulls out a long, delicate silver chain. Her wide-eyed pleasure however, quickly turns to open-mouthed confusion when she realises that on the end of the silver chain is a replica electric chair, depicting a man being electrocuted. Far from being the romantic man of her dreams, maybe he is the madman of her nightmares.

But although she recoils at the replica electric chair, she would have been charmed if she had found a crucifix at the end of that delicate chain. Romantic men have been presenting little silver crosses to their girlfriends for as long as they have been booking seats at the theatre. Maybe our familiarity with this symbol has caused us to misunderstand why Jesus died.

Moses, Muhammad and Buddha

You sometimes hear people say that the origin of all religions is the same: a person with great moral, spiritual and intellectual standing gains a new insight of truth and dedicates his life to teaching it. He then builds a culture around it which outlasts him and guarantees the future of his creed.

As far as Judaism, Buddhism and Islam are concerned, there is some credibility in that analysis, because these religions did begin in this way. Moses, the Buddha and Muhammad died as old men after a life of teaching in which they won vast popular acclaim. For them, the future of their respective religions was guaranteed.

The origin of Christianity cannot be explained in this way, however, because Jesus died aged 33 with a teaching ministry of three years at most. He had been rejected by society, betrayed and denied by his own supporters, mocked by his enemies, and, at the very end, abandoned by all except his mum and a few of her friends. Jesus suffered one of the most brutal forms of execution ever devised. The founder of Christianity died prematurely and tragically as a lonely, pathetic figure on a cross. This is not the way anyone would choose to start a religion. Yet Jesus has more billions of followers than anyone in all history.

Why did Jesus die?

One possible explanation for Jesus’ death on a cross is that he got carried away with events and didn’t see it coming. Except history tells us that Jesus clearly knew that his life was heading towards a brutal death in Jerusalem. He knew exactly when his time had come and what it entailed.

If you read John’s Gospel, an eyewitness biography of Jesus’ life, you will notice throughout that Jesus talks of ‘his hour’. Early in his ministry, when Jesus’ friends and family urged him to perform a miracle at a large wedding feast, he responded, ‘My hour has not yet come’ (John 2:4). Fast-forward to the last week of his life and Jesus says, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified’ (John 12:23). This is the big moment: the turning point in John’s account. Until then, no one knew what Jesus meant by ‘his hour’. A few verses on, Jesus says: ‘Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour’ (verse 27). And just in case we are in any doubt about what Jesus means, he continues: ‘“And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die’ (verses 32–33).

A murder most foul

Jesus deliberately went to the cross. This was his hour, the hour he had planned for and was born to fulfil. But doesn’t it strike you as unusual that Jesus – having spent three years in public ministry in which he demonstrated his authority over sickness, nature and evil, and having convinced his followers that he is God in human form – would allow his life to end in such violence and humiliation?

Why does the Old Testament look forward to his death, and the New Testament look back on it, as the greatest event in world history? Why is the most significant person in world history deliberately moving events towards his own brutal execution? Surely, it is not going to help anyone, except his enemies.

Hardened soldiers arrested Jesus, blindfolded him, punched him in the face and mocked him: ‘Hey, you’re a prophet – tell us which one of us punched you – go on, Jesus, prophesy!’ Having been beaten up and had his back flogged, Jesus was then forced to carry his own cross, staggering through the streets, until he arrived at the place of execution. He was stripped naked by rough, sneering soldiers and then thrown onto the cross; his arms and legs were stretched out and surrendered to cruel nails. The cross was then lifted up and dropped into a deep, earthen socket, dislocating both his arms as it landed with a jolt. Then, as Jesus began slowly to suffocate in his own blood and spittle, howls of mockery went up from the crowd (see Matthew 27:40-43):

‘He saved others, but he can’t save himself!’

‘Hey, get down from the cross if you really are who you say you are.’

Here is the greatest figure the world has ever seen. The one who gave sight to the blind and stilled a storm with a word. The one who convinced John that he was God in human form, the Logos, the meaning behind the universe (see John 1:1–18). And here he is dying so horribly and deliberately at the hands of his own creation. The whole thing seems obscene, not least because it was so avoidable.

Jesus didn’t need to keep Judas Iscariot in his company; he had detected his treachery early enough not to trust him. Neither did Jesus need to walk unprotected into an obvious political trap. Jesus was fully aware of what was unfolding around him, and yet he deliberately moved events towards his own execution.

A demonstration of love

Early in John’s Gospel we read: ‘God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son’ (see 3:16), and the rest of the New Testament repeats the assertion that the death of Jesus is the greatest demonstration of love possible. Really?

A thoughtful person might ask, ‘Well, if the gift of Jesus was meant to be a demonstration of love to the world, then why did Jesus allow evil to win the day? Why did he cause his widowed mother so much pain and anguish? Would she have been impressed by this entirely avoidable act of sacrifice?

Once we stop thinking sentimentally, the force of those questions is undeniable. For instance, imagine a man taking his wife on a long romantic walk by a riverbank. He professes his undying love to her before throwing himself into the raging current, never to surface again. Would she be comforted by his dying words: ‘I love you so much – that’s why I am doing this’? I doubt she would see how the loving and the dying are connected. She would surely have expected her husband to show his love by living for her, protecting her from loneliness and grief, not by breaking her heart and leaving her bereft.

Seen in its immediate context, the death of Jesus on the cross looks like a cruel miscalculation. Jesus’ disciples certainly thought so, as they fled for their lives. Yet within a few weeks, the same people claimed that Jesus’ death was the greatest hour of his life, his moment of glory, and the most supreme demonstration of love ever shown.

Jesus defeated?

There is a story that after the Battle of Waterloo, English troops received this message: ‘Wellington defeated’. They were utterly dejected and humiliated by the announcement of a French victory. But as they prepared to flee back to England, someone cried out, ‘We haven’t got the full message’, so they looked again and realised the full message was ‘Wellington defeated Napoleon’. Similarly, upon witnessing the crucifixion, the disciples thought the message was ‘Jesus defeated’. And so they fled the scene of his execution, humiliated and shamed and unable to show themselves in public. But within a few weeks they were boldly proclaiming ‘Jesus defeated sin and death and hell.’

Sin and death are humanity’s two greatest enemies, defeating the dreams and aspirations of everyone who has ever walked this planet. Do you have a solution to death, which takes us away from the things we’ve achieved and the people we’ve loved? What do you do about our polluted consciences, about the sin and evil that blights our lives and leaves us guilty before a just and blameless God? Ever since humans rebelled against God, we have forfeited the right to eternal life. A loving God cannot permit proud, selfish, rebellious people to live for ever; since we would only corrupt and destroy a new paradise in our unchanged rebellious condition. Moreover, since God himself is the giver of life, to have turned away from him is to have embraced death, with nowhere else to go.

‘I made you,’ says God, ‘I made a world for you to live in and yet you live as if I didn’t exist, and you have made a rubbish tip of paradise.’ It’s not very flattering, but neither is it hard to prove. At a societal level, climate advocates strive to alert us to the immensity of our actions, and their consequences for future generations. On an individual level, we all think, say and do things which we condemn in others. And if by our own standards we have fallen short, how much more before the perfect standards of a holy God? All of us will die because of sin entering God’s world; it is the punishment of being separated from him for ever that we all face. If God is the source of love, beauty, kindness and goodness, then to be separated from him for ever is to be without everything that makes life meaningful – which is an appalling prospect.

Why can’t God just forgive people?

As I go around universities speaking to students, I constantly hear people ask: ‘Why doesn’t God just forgive people?’ As Catherine the Great is reputed to have said, ‘We sin. God forgives. Forgiveness is his business.’ But God’s business is not simply to forgive sin. His business is to be true to himself and his just character and so uphold his righteous rule in the universe, making sure that justice is upheld and that his just name and rule are honoured. When we think about it – and particularly when we consider the evil and exploitation that happens daily in our world – we would want it no other way: a God who ensures that justice will be done.

But if we are to comprehend why forgiveness is so difficult, and why Jesus had to die as our substitute, we must grasp not only God’s justice, but also something of God’s holiness and majesty. In the Old Testament, we read how God spent centuries teaching Israel that he is unapproachably holy. He ordered a mobile temple (tabernacle) to be built that presented itself as an obstacle course. It was full of holy things and had thick curtains that you could only go through after ceremonial washings and other strictly prescribed rituals. The message was stark: ‘God is holy. Proceed with extreme caution or keep out.’ It’s a bit like Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone: even if you can get past the three-headed dog, you’ve still got to avoid the deadly potions and not be killed by the living chess pieces which will smash you down the moment you make a false move.

In the tabernacle, and later the temple, the priests entered the outer room (the Holy Place) to carry out their relentless ministry of sacrificing animals. This gruesome task was necessary because ‘Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness’ (Hebrews 9:22). Only the high priest could enter the Most Holy Place, and even then only once a year after making sacrifices for his own sin and the sin of the people.

This is why forgiveness is such a big problem. How can God forgive us without his goodness and justice being compromised? What would we think of a human judge who unilaterally pronounced forgiveness on a serial rapist who had abducted and tortured young girls? Would we be touched by his concern to give this troubled young man a fresh start with an unqualified pardon – or filled with rage?

Similarly, would God be good if he was merely pained by our sin? Surely, If God is not filled with wrath – understood not as unworthy and capricious anger, but righteous indignation – how can he possibly be good, holy and just?

Gary Haugen (former Director of the UN genocide investigation in Rwanda) said: ‘Standing with my boots deep in the reeking muck of a Rwandan mass grave where thousands of innocent people have been horribly slaughtered, I have no words, no meaning, no life, no hope if there is not a God of history and time who is absolutely furious, absolutely burning with anger towards those who took it in their own hands to commit such acts.[1]

God must punish wrongdoing

To be truly good and loving, God must punish wrongdoing in his universe. Sin is a rejection of God and his rule and is ultimately the cause of all the desperate misery and suffering in his world. As a just and holy God, he is rightly angry at sin and demands justice. If we have a problem with that, then we would have an even bigger problem with a God who remained serene in the face of evil and rebellion and simply offered forgiveness with the same sense of duty as Santa Claus offering presents to children.

How can we expect God to be indifferent to our rebellion, pride and ingratitude towards him? Our thoughts and motives are so foul and rebellious, our selfishness and bitterness are so obscene to God, they have provoked a just and righteous anger towards us.

Maybe we do not understand Jesus’ death on the cross, because we do not understand our own danger. On the cross, Jesus offered himself to satisfy God’s demand for sin to be punished, for justice to be done. Jesus died to save us, since we were facing God’s righteous sentence against sin and wickedness. Jesus took our place. As an Old Testament prophet wrote, centuries before Jesus’ death, ‘the punishment that brought us peace was on him’ (Isaiah 53:5). Why would he do that? Simply out of love. His just anger at our sin did not stop God loving us and planning a rescue: ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life’ (John 3:16).

Loving and dying revisited

Imagine again the romantic walk along the riverbank, but this time with slightly different circumstances. The woman loses her footing and falls into the raging, icy water. Without any concern for his own safety, the boyfriend jumps in alongside her and pushes her to the safety of the river bank. In so doing, he dooms himself and is swept downstream to his death. However shocked and distraught she is, the woman will have no difficulty seeing how the loving and dying are connected: he died to save her. He gave his life in exchange for hers.

On the cross, Jesus plunged into the icy river of death in your place and mine, to rescue us from certain and eternal death. Our sin is so serious to a God committed to justice that it had to be condemned. But Jesus who had no sin of his own stepped in and took our place so that God could show his perfect justice by punishing sin as he also forgives us. Only someone without sin could take our place for that to happen.

The scandal of substitution

Is God being just and fair in attributing our sin to the righteous Jesus and acquitting us? Surely, that sounds like the pagan gods, sated with offerings of innocent children? How can it be fair that God seizes Jesus, who is an innocent bystander, and loads the guilt and punishment for our sin on him? Surely, this matter should be between God and us alone and not involve an innocent third party.

The Bible says there is no third party; Jesus was no bystander accidentally caught up in our mess. God the Father and Jesus the Son were so close in this matter that they were one. Jesus agreed to this. He knew that in his hour of glory, he was to be lifted up on a cross, providing the means by which all people could be drawn to him and be pardoned and forgiven. He went there willingly, as he taught his followers, ‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep… No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord’ (John 10:11, 18).

The way of love

To illustrate that God is taking the punishment himself rather than punishing a third party, think of God as a faithful wife whose husband has been cheating on her. How should the woman feel about her husband living with another woman? Should she be serene and indifferent to his behaviour? If she is not hurt and angry, then either the relationship was an empty sham or she is morally and emotionally dysfunctional.

One day the husband turns up at the family home, genuinely sorry and repentant for his unfaithfulness. ‘Please forgive me,’ he says, ‘I messed up, but now I want to come back to you: will you have me back? I have ended the other relationship because I want to repair things with you. It is you I love.’

What should his wife say? How about: ‘Oh yeah, sure, no problem – I hardly noticed you were gone’? That would surely be amoral and indifferent. It would suggest that no real love or passion towards her husband ever existed. Should she remain angry and divorce him for everything she can get? The law would be on her side and she would not be unjust or unreasonable in doing so, but that would not be a healing of the wound, rather it would be more like an amputation. But what if the reality is that, although she is hurt and angry, she still loves him?

There is another way, but it is costly. It’s the way of love and mercy. It isn’t easy or sentimental, and a price needs to be paid. True love has the power not to ignore hurt, but to absorb it. Rather than allow the relationship to be destroyed by the offence, this is what the woman does. She says to her estranged husband as he stands on her doorstep: ‘I do still love you and I will have you back.’ Does that seem a little easy? Does his forgiveness seem to come a little cheaply? Surely a price needs to be paid for that man’s adultery. And it does is – but it’s not paid by him. The husband knows that his wife has paid the price for his forgiveness. He knows that that the cost of his acceptance is the pain, humiliation and anguish his wife must endure in order to accept him back and make the relationship work. He knows that this pain, humiliation and anguish will be felt by her for the rest of her life. The way of love is not cheap – it is costly and generous.

That’s what Jesus did on the cross. He chose the way of love. God is rightly angry at our sin – the continuous lifestyle of hurtful disloyalty towards him, that defiles all that he had made and cherishes. Yet, there on the cross we see Jesus coming to terms with our sin by taking it on himself. It was as if Jesus absorbed all our appalling unfaithfulness, pride, rebellion, envy and bitterness into his own divine self on the cross.

That was the real agony of the cross: Jesus – who had never sinned and who hated sin – took the filth and degradation of your sin and mine upon himself and experienced the anguish of being separated from his Father as he bore the hellish punishment we deserve. That’s why Jesus died.

Tough love

When Jesus fully paid the price for sin on the cross and was ready to give up his spirit and die, he said, ‘It is finished’ (John 19:30). Not: ‘I am finished.’ The word translated finished means ‘completed’. It is the word a student would use having sat their last exam, or someone who has just paid the last instalment of their mortgage. There is nothing more to do or to prove, nothing more to pay: ‘Finished’. Sin has been paid for, death has been defeated and the powers of hell conquered, finished.

To confirm Jesus’ victory over death and sin, God raised Jesus from the dead. Even though the early church gathered around an empty tomb and met with the resurrected Jesus, they chose the disturbing symbol of the cross rather than that of the empty tomb to tell the world how much God loved them.

Our response

Do we realise how we have angered and offended God’s holy love for us? Yet his love for you is so great that he is willing to have you back. He offers you forgiveness, love and acceptance. He offers you a fresh start, free of all the guilt. Because Jesus represented us in taking our sin, God is able to clothe us in Jesus’ righteousness. For Jesus not only died the death we deserved, but he lived the perfect life we have not lived. God can now look on us without being offended by our sin. He loves you so much that he will commit himself to you today and for eternity as your Saviour and friend.

A few years ago, I spoke at a university and after giving a talk on the death of Jesus, I was confronted by a student called Helen who felt that the concept of Jesus taking her place had become even more confusing after hearing my talk. I swallowed my pride and gave her a book called The Cross of Christ by John Stott (IVP). A couple of weeks later I received this email from a friend of hers:

Dear Richard,

Helen has been devouring the book she was given. Last Thursday she called me to tell me that finally ‘it’s all clicked’ and she can understand why Jesus died for her, and was able to accept it for herself. Since then she’s had this big smile on her face that she just can’t shake, and she tells me, half-embarrassed, that she’s full of joy! Praise God for opening her eyes. Helen’s already had some great conversations with her housemate explaining the gospel and sharing her new faith, and is excited to get stuck into church.

Your response

If you would like to investigate further then continue exploring Bethinking.org – there are some resources on common questions here.

If it has ‘all clicked’ for you, and you understand how you can be forgiven and accepted by God through what Jesus has achieved on the cross, and if you are willing to turn away from self-rule and make Jesus your Lord and God, I would encourage you to do exactly what Helen did. Accept his forgiveness, tell others and ask a Christian friend to recommend a church.

All relationships have to begin somewhere, and with God they begin by talking to him. Why not do this using the words of this prayer right now:

Lord God,

I admit that I have lived independently of you and have offended your love and provoked your anger with my proud, selfish attitude to you and all that you have made.

I realise that you are too holy and good to simply overlook my sin. Thank you that you loved me so much you were willing to give your only son to die in my place.

I acknowledge that Jesus willingly laid down his life for me, bearing the punishment my sin deserves and that he now offers me the forgiveness I don’t deserve.

I now turn away from everything that is wrong in my life and ask you to forgive me by virtue of who Jesus is and what he achieved on the cross.

Please send the Spirit of Jesus to live in me – to renew me and help me to be a follower of Jesus from this day on and for the rest of my life.

Amen.

If you have prayed this prayer, contact your university Christian Union who will be able to help you find a local church: https://www.uccf.org.uk/christian-unions