This evening I would like to tell you a story about something that happened to me a number of years ago; something that happened during my trip to Jerusalem. Ever since I was a kid, I had always wanted to go to Israel and see Jerusalem. As I grew up, my parents had told me about all of the wonderful things God had done through biblical history, and I wanted to see the place for myself. I wanted to see all of the famous sites in Jerusalem—where Melchizedek had been a priest-king, where Joshua battled against the Jebusites, where David brought Goliath’s head after he slew the giant and made Jerusalem the capital of Israel.
Unfortunately, Jerusalem was on the other side of the world, and my parents told me that we didn’t have enough money to go there. When I was a teenager, I started saving my money to make this trip, but it wasn’t until after I was married that I finally had enough money to go.
Since I figured that this would be a once in a lifetime trip, I wanted to make the most of it. So, I arranged to be there during Passover, the biggest Jewish holiday, where Jews from all over the world flocked to Jerusalem to celebrate how God delivered his people from 400 years of slavery in Egypt. This was the best time to visit Jerusalem, so that is when I went!
The Journey to Jerusalem
Making plans to travel to Jerusalem is a complicated process, but it got even more complicated than I had expected. All along, I was planning on just my wife and I making the trip, and the kids would stay with my in-laws. But not long after our plans were finalized, we found out that she was pregnant. Although we were excited about the pregnancy, we were disappointed because we knew that she wouldn’t be able to go.
As I was trying to figure out what to do, she came to me and said, “You shouldn’t go to Jerusalem alone. You should take the boys with you. They are old enough to make the journey and it would be a great educational opportunity for them.” We agreed that our two sons, Alexander and Rufus, would accompany me to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover feast.
The three of us boarded a ship in our hometown of Cyrene and made the 750 mile voyage to Israel and then we walked the last 30 miles to Jerusalem. The trip provided the perfect opportunity to teach my boys about God’s faithfulness to our people. As we watched the sun rise over the sea, I told them about how God created the heavens and the earth. When we gazed at the stars in the night sky, I reminded them that God promised our father Abraham that he would make his descendents as numerous as the stars in the sky. As we watched the tails of giant whales splash the Mediterranean water into the air, I reminded them of how God used the belly of a fish to help Jonah repent from his sin. And as Passover approached, I reminded them about how God used Moses to deliver our people from slavery in Egypt.
Those last 30 miles on foot were so exciting as we approached Jerusalem. We were anxious to see what the city would look like and what we would experience there!
Chaos in Jerusalem
As we approached the city, the Passover feast had already begun. We expected an atmosphere of joy and celebration, but all we saw was chaos. Something was wrong! We had anticipated a festive throng of singing and dancing, but all we encountered was angry mobs making threats of violence. My young sons were scared and asked, “Daddy, what’s happening here?” I held their hands and said, “I don’t know boys, but I’ll find out.”
As we made our way through the anxious streets, I asked someone what was going on. He said, “Where have you been? Haven’t you heard of Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee? He is on trial for blasphemy; he claims to be the Son of God. Some people say that he is the son of God because he performed many miracles, but others claim that he is a false prophet. He has divided the city and turned it into an uproar. The religious leaders brought him to the Roman governor early this morning.” Then he said, “I’m on my way to Pilate’s palace right now to see what will be decided. Follow me!”
Sentenced to Crucifixion (6-15)
I held my boys close as we pushed our way through the crowd. Eventually, we came to the court of Pilate’s palace and stood amidst the angry mob of people. Just as we got there Pilate brought Jesus out onto the balcony. As soon as the crowd saw him, they began to hurl insults and profanities at him. I wanted to get my kids out of there, but it was too late; the crowd filled in behind us and we were stuck.
With all of the noise around us, I could barely hear what Pilate was saying. The best I could make out was that he was willing to release one prisoner, either Jesus or some murderer named Barabbas. Pilate appeared to be spineless and willing to do whatever pleased the crowd the most. Then, in a sarcastic voice, I heard him say, “Then what should I do with the king of the Jews?” And the crowd chanted, “Crucify! Crucify!”
Carrying the Cross of Christ (16-24)
From there, Pilate took Jesus back into the palace and had him flogged. He must have given Jesus over to his soldiers to make sport of him because when they led him out, he didn’t even look like the same man. His head had been so badly beaten that his whole face was deformed. It looked like they had fashioned a crown out of thorns and placed it on his head and then struck it with a staff until the thorns sunk in so deep that blood splattered all over his face and neck.
The soldiers led him out of the gate and the crowd formed an alley for them to walk. My heart sank as I realized that my sons and I were going to have a front row view of the gruesome procession. I didn’t want my boys to see this dreadful sight, but there wasn’t anything I could do. As he approached, I could see the heavy wooden beam on his back and the soldier’s spit all over his hair. He was so weak that he could barely walk.
When he was standing right in front of me, his legs gave out and he collapsed under the weight of the beam. I’ll never forget the look of desperation on his face as he fell or the sound of his gasp as the beam bounced against his back. The whole event only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The beam rolled off of him and I could see the bloodstains on his back from where he had been flogged. I marveled at how he could still be alive after such blood loss.
As he lay there, the soldiers commanded him to get up. When they realized that he couldn’t carry the beam any longer, the centurion looked at me and said, “You, carry his cross! At first, I refused. I didn’t want anything to do with this perilous procession. When I tried to explain that my two young boys were with me, he raised his whip and threatened me. I told my boys to follow close behind, and then I bent down to pick up the cross. I was surprised by how heavy it was and I remember thinking, “How had he carried it so far?”
When I got the beam balanced on my back, I saw Jesus on his feet stumbling ahead of me. Then the soldier exclaimed, “On to Golgotha!” I followed Jesus up that long and lonely hill until we reached the top. At one point, I looked back to make sure that my boys were following in the procession. Thank God they hadn’t been trampled by the crowd!
The Crucifixion of Christ (21-41)
When we reached the top of the hill, the soldiers told me to drop the beam and they pushed me out of the way. I ran over to my boys and wrapped my arms around them as the crowd gathered. When I looked back, I realized that two other men were going to be crucified along with Jesus.
I had heard of crucifixions before, but I had never actually seen one. I didn’t want my boys to see this horrifying event, but after carrying Jesus’ cross, I knew I had to stay until the end. We watched as the soldiers stretched Jesus’ arms across the beam and nailed his wrists into the wood. When he gasped with pain, the religious leaders began to cheer, the soldiers cast lot for his clothing, but there was a group of women standing off in the distance who began to wail.
From there, they lifted Jesus up and attached the horizontal beam to the vertical one that was already in the ground. After they nailed his feet to the cross, they hung a sign over it that read: The King of the Jews. Over the next few hours, Jesus continued to pull his body up to breath. And the chief priests and scribes mocked and made fun of him. I overheard one of them say with sarcasm, “He saved others…but he cannot save himself. Let this Christ, this king of Israel, come down from the cross, that we may see and believe.”
As Jesus approached death, a strange and terrifying darkness came over the whole land. Jesus mustered up all the strength he had left and cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? A few minutes later, Jesus breathed his last and gave up his spirit. The centurion who had forced me to carry Jesus’ cross was standing right in front of Jesus when he died. I heard him say, “Surely this man was the son of God!” At that moment, I knew in my heart that this Jesus was indeed the long awaited Messiah!
Carrying My Cross (Mark 8:34-36)
The soldiers took Jesus’ limp body off the cross, and I knew it was finished. I looked at my boys and said, “They have killed the one that Abraham, Moses, and the prophets foretold. They have killed the Christ!”
The crowd began to disperse and I turned around and looked at the wooden beam lying on the ground stained with blood. As I thought about how I carried the murder weapon on my back, I felt responsible for Jesus’ death. I thought, “If I had just resisted the soldiers more, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” My head told me that it wasn’t my fault, but my heart was filled with guilt.
As we started walking away, the group of women who were standing off in the distance weeping began to approach me. One of them, who introduced herself as Mary Magdalene, spoke to me. It was as if she could read my mind when she said, “It’s not your fault! You didn’t kill him! This was the devil’s doing!” And then she said, “While Jesus was still alive, he taught us that, “If anyone would come after him, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow him. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and my gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, but forfeit his soul?”
When I heard the words that Jesus had spoken, I felt like my soul had been liberated. I learned that being a true follower of Christ has nothing to do with literally carrying a cross, but it has everything to do with giving and living my life for him. That is when I realized that I had been living my life for myself and my family, not for the Messiah. At that very moment, I made a commitment to follow Jesus with and for the rest of my life! I have never been the same since!
Today I understand much more than I did that day I carried Jesus’ cross. I know that he died on the cross to provide forgiveness and atonement for my sins. He was indeed the Lamb of God who died for the sins of the world. It was really difficult to carry his cross that day, but I have discovered that it is even harder “carrying my cross” everyday.
How about you? Do you know that Jesus died on the cross to grant you forgiveness? Do you know that his blood was shed so you can have atonement for all of the sins you have committed? Have you received him as Lord and Savior? Are you a true follower of Jesus Christ?
Have you learned what it means to carry your cross? Who are you living for? Yourself? Your spouse? Your kids? Or are you truly living your life for Jesus? If you want to save your life, give it up! Are you carrying the cross of Christ?