I used a tissue to wipe up the blood that trickled down my left index finger. Always the clumsy one, I hadn’t been holding the crown of thorns carefully enough.
And all it took was one measly thorn prick to get me in tears.
This Good Friday prayer walk I was in charge of for our church wasn’t supposed to affect me like this. It’s just that that prick hurt a lot.
Mostly, emotionally.
Because it was only one thorn. One out of, like, a hundred. One condemning thorn that confirmed what I’d spent my whole life denying:
That if it had been me…
I never could have made it all the way to the cross.
I couldn’t have endured a whole crown.
I couldn’t have been silent in the face of the crowd’s abuse.
I couldn’t have borne Judas’ betrayal, couldn’t have stood still for his kiss.
If it had been me, I would have called the whole thing off the first time Peter said he didn’t know me.
I would have jumped off the cross long before a sword pierced my side, long before “it is finished.”
The truth is, sometimes we don’t want to think about the physical torture that our precious Jesus went through for us. We watch The Passion of the Christ and are wrecked, literally sick, over it.
But sometimes we’d rather think about that than the other kind of torture he endured on that day.
After all, whips ripping flesh and nails piercing skin don’t make Christ’s death significant. Not really. Two other men were crucified right next to him—bodies also left to suffocate on crude pieces of wood, to push up on torn tendons and gasp for air, to slump down and choke; a cycle they repeated until dead.
Crucifixion was a form of execution in those days. Violent, shameful, extreme—but not unheard of. And if all we do is talk about how bad it was for Jesus’ body, we miss the whole point.
The real suffering on the cross was when the Father turned away from the Son and strapped our sin on Jesus’ back and inflicted the punishment that sin deserves and we’ll never know.
Those other men may have shed blood that day, but they didn’t bear my sin on their shoulders; they didn’t endure their Father’s wrath. They didn’t save my life.
The reason we bow before Jesus is because he could have jumped off that cross, but didn’t. He could have shoved our noses in our own filth and said, “Fine, save yourselves.” But instead he moaned for us. He begged God for us.
He breathed, “Forgive them.”
If Jesus’ death were just about physical suffering, it wouldn’t mean anything. But because that one act bridged the gap our sin put between us and God, it means everything.
It means that he was despised and rejected by men so we would never be despised or rejected.
It means that he became sin so we could be free from sin.
It means that he gave his life so we could have life everlasting.
It. Means. Everything.
So when I think about the cross, I mourn over the physical suffering of the Savior. But I get on my face and weep at the thought that he endured my punishment. That he stayed on that cross until dead—making the resurrection possible. That he never once turned back but instead said to His Father, “Not my will, but Yours be done.” That he bore the suffering and endured the shame and paid the price and defeated it all—to the end of eternal glory.
And my eternal salvation.
By Sarah Nutter, Speaking of Truth
Leave a Comment
The Real Reason He SufferedSpeaking of Truth says
[…] Continue reading at (In)Courage… You might also like: When it's About as Ugly as it GetsLove that Wraps Around the WorldLove that Wraps Around the World share […]
Jen@intendtolive.com says
Very powerful. As we near the end of Lent and I whine about giving up sweets and being ready for them on Sunday, I’m reminded how that is so minuscule compared to what Jesus did for us.
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Jen–I agree. We really have no idea what a sacrifice it really was for Jesus to take our place on the cross. And then he asks US to pick up OUR crosses… not to punish us, but because loss of ourselves means the gain of Christ. Astonishing grace.
Eden says
Wow!! You are so right…it was when God turned his back on Jesus that the suffering began….the wrath of God. Wow!! I never thought of it this way.
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Hi Eden! Yes, it’s so easy to forget the main point, and we sometimes glorify the physical suffering while failing to remember the spiritual punishment… the moment that led to the veil tearing in two–the ultimate, pivotal sacrifice. Blessings to you as you stop and reflect on this Good, Good Friday.
Sarah says
This article has hit a spot in my heart, I cannot stop thinking about how honest and full of truth it is. I have never looked at Good Friday in such a way after reading this….thank you!
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Sarah–I’m honored you would read. Thank you! Yes, we can’t ever think about the death of Jesus the same once we realize how deep his suffering went. All for us.
Rebecca R. says
I weep tears of sorrow as I reflect on my sin that separated Jesus from his heavenly Father. The weight that He bore as He hung upon the cross is unimaginable. And yet, I weep tears of joy knowing that He loved me THAT much! Thank you for your love letter today and a happy and blessed Easter to you and your family.
Sue says
Your article really touched my heart! What a great reminder going into the weekend. It really does mean everything…blessings!
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Sue–thank you! Blessings to you as well. Praise God.
Jennifer says
Beautifully written. I’m at a lost for words to tell you how much this most means to me today…
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Jennifer–thank you for your sweet words. May God continue to change all of us and open our eyes to see the Truth of his sacrifice–it just makes the resurrection that much more triumphant.
Katie @ simply[his] says
“The real suffering on the cross was when the Father turned away from the Son and strapped our sin on Jesus’ back and inflicted the punishment that sin deserves and we’ll never know.”
Sarah, I’ve not heard it more beautifully said. Thank you for sharing your heart today. You’ve challenged us all to stop and really seek what this day means for us.
<3
Sarah@Speaking of Truth says
Katie!! I am so glad you stopped by! Thank you! Yes, I’m challenged as well. I need to remember this truth every. day. I get WAY too caught up in frivolous, earthly, fading things. Love you friend!
Sarah Martin says
Amazing.
Jesus’ pain had a purpose…and so does ours… « Revolt says
[…] The Real Reason He Suffered by Sarah Nutter on InCourage Rate this: Share this:Like this:LikeOne blogger likes this post. Filed under Easter, Trials and tagged Christianity, Easter, Good Friday, Jesus Christ | Leave a comment […]
Beth Williams says
Amazing & timely post!
Our church celebrates communion each Sunday. We have a communion meditation that can go through any and every aspect of what Jesus did for us that day! It isn’t just the bread & wine–it’s the part where the father forsakes His ONLY SON for our sakes! WOW!! What a testimony!
Like you I could never ever endure pain like that & then have those same people turn away from you periodically–yet He keeps forgiving us always and forever! What a love that is!
Happy Resurrection Day!
Glenda Powell says
Insightful, powerful, memorable, riveting….I’m thankful that I read this before Easter Sunday. “What a friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear….”
Jody says
I love the way you put this…it really makes you think about what all He done for us!
Codie Leath says
Great Sarah! Thank you for the truth of the day!
Natasha says
Oh, yes. Yes. Thank for this breathtaking reminder. <3
What the Resurrection Says About Gender RolesSpeaking of Truth says
[…] and Annas and Caiaphas and all the Roman soldiers and Sanhedrin and said, “Let’s see if that crown of thorns hurts me […]
my life is in shambles and God is strongerSpeaking of Truth says
[…] But he did die. And maybe the most shocking thing isn’t that he died, it’s that he died while maintaining the pulse of a powerful, all-consuming love for us. This is the difference between him and me. I’m still carrying around my flesh and heaping blame on everyone around me for the universal brokenness of this world that I partake in as much as anyone else. […]