At the foot of the Cross

I've been meaning to post this for the last few weeks. This is an excerpt from "Boy Meets Girl" by Joshua Harris, which he quoted from "When God Weeps", by Joni Eareckson Tada and Steve Estes. I came across it while Naomi and I were reading through "Boy Meets Girl", and it was such an incredibly moving description of Jesus' sacrifice for us on the cross that I wanted to post it for anyone who hasn't read one of those two books. There is so much more to say about this, but for now, set aside the next five minutes and read this through. If you can't identify with any of the specifics it lists, put your own list in. The things that you've done that maybe no one else knows about, except God. The things you agonize over when you're praying, sitting in church, reading His Word, or lying awake at night. The 'little sins' of excluding God from areas of your life, jealousy of someone else's life or circumstances, the hurtful words that slip out when you're angry or upset.

Read it slowly, and let it sink into your mind. Imagine it in all the horrible agony that it was for Christ. Let your heart break over the incredible, unfathomable sacrifice He made for you. Not just anyone. You. And when you're done, ask yourself if you're really and truly living in the shadow of this Cross. Are you spending every waking minute in the presence of the One who has done this for you? Are you living your life for yourself, or for Christ Jesus, who paid this price to bring you out of darkness and into His eternal light and life? Ask God to show you the answer to this question, and He will. Your heart will break.


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The face that Moses had begged to see - was forbidden to see - was slapped bloody (Exodus 33:19-20). The thorns that God had sent to curse the earth’s rebellion now twisted around his own brow. His back, buttocks, and the rear of his legs felt the whip - soon they looked like the plowed Judean fields outside the city. ” On with the blindfold!” someone shouts. “That’s it - now spin him. Who hit you? Heh, heh.” By the time the spitting is through, more saliva is on him than in him. No longer can he be recognized. “Cut him down from the post! Send him toting his crossbar to the playground.” Up Skull Hill to the welcome of other poorly paid legionnaires enjoying themselves.

“On your back with you!” One raises a mallet to sink in the spike. But the soldier’s heart must continue pumping as he readies the prisoner’s wrist. Someone must sustain the soldier’s life minute by minute, for no man has this power on his own. Who supplies breath to his lungs? Who gives energy to his cells? Who holds his molecules together? Only by the Son do “all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17). The victim wills that the soldier live on - he grants the warriors continued existence. The man swings.

As the man swings, the Son recalls how he and the Father first designed the medial nerve of the human forearm - the sensations it would be capable of. The design proves flawless - the nerve performs exquisitely. “Up you go!” They lift up the cross. God is on display in his underwear, and can scarcely breath.

But these pains are a mere warm-up to his other and growing dread. He begins to feel a foreign sensation. Somewhere during this day an unearthly foul odor began to waft, not around his nose, but his heart. He feels dirty. Human wickedness starts to crawl upon his spotless being - the living excrement from our souls. The apple of his Father’s eye turns brown with rot.

His Father! He must face His Father like this!

From heaven the Father now rouses himself like a lion disturbed, shakes his mane, and roars against the shriveling remnant of a man hanging on a cross. Never has the Son seen the Father look at him so, never felt even the least of his hot breath. But the roar shakes the unseen world and darkens the visible sky. The Son does not recognize these eyes.

“Son of Man! Why have you behaved so? You have cheated, lusted, stolen, gossiped - murdered, envied, hated, lied. You have cursed, robbed, overspent, overeaten - fornicated, disobeyed, embezzled, and blasphemed. Oh the duties you have shirked, the children you have abandoned! Who has ever so ignored the poor, so played the coward, so belittled my name? Have you ever held your razor tongue? What a self-righteous, pitiful drunk - you, who molest young boys, peddle killer drugs, travel in cliques, and mock your parents. Who gave you the boldness to rig elections, foment revolutions, torture animals, and worship demons? Does the list never end! Splitting families, raping virgins, acting smugly, playing the pimp - buying politicians, practicing extortion, filming pornography, accepting bribes. You have burned down buildings, perfected terrorist tactics, founded false religions, traded in slaves - relishing each morsel and bragging about it all. I hate, I loathe these things in you! Disgust for everything about you consumes me! Can you not feel my wrath?”

Of course the Son is innocent. He is blamelessness itself. The Father knows this. But the divine pair have an agreement, and the unthinkable must take place. Jesus will be treated as if personally responsible for every sin ever committed.

The Father watches as his heart’s treasure, the mirror-image of himself, sinks drowning into raw, liquid sin. Jehovah’s stored rage against humankind from every century explodes in a single direction.

“Father! Father! Why have you forsaken me?!”

But heaven stops its ears. The Son stares up at the One who cannot, who will not, reach down or reply.

The Trinity had planned it. The Son endured it. The Spirit enabled him. The Father rejected the Son whom he loved. Jesus, the God-man from Nazareth, perished. The Father accepted his sacrifice for sin and was satisfied. The Rescue was accomplished.