The Cross I Wear

I have a cross I sometimes wear around my neck. It is a small, wooden cross on a leather necklace. It has a rustic look and feel, and I’m sure it is rather fashionable.

It’s fashionable.

This cross didn’t cost me anything, as I found it in my classroom at the high school in Ohio where I taught for nine years. I found all kinds of clothing and such, and would usually ask around to try to find the owner before storing them in my office. At the end of the school year I (and many of the other teachers) would give all of our lost and found items to a clothing bank to be distributed to those in need. But I kept this cross in my desk for nearly three years, then decided to wear it myself.

It didn’t cost me anything.

I am not a big jewelry wearer on the whole. I have only my wedding ring, an anniversary ring and a watch as my regular accessories. I don’t really like the feel of other things, like necklaces. I feel too weighed-down by them. But this particular cross is very light, so I hardly even know it is there. I can wear it all day long and not feel as if I am toting a piece of furniture around my neck. As a matter of fact, I often forget I even have it on.

It is easy to carry.

The cross I have is fashionable, cost me nothing, and is easy to carry.

This is not the cross Jesus tells his followers to pick up and carry.

Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

At the time Jesus spoke those words, crucifixion was the preferred manner of execution by the Romans for criminals, runaway or disobedient slaves, political enemies, traitors, pirates, and rebels. Roman citizens in good standing were rarely subjected to the humility of the cross. If their crimes were sufficient to warrant capital punishment, they were killed honorably, usually through beheading. Crucifixion was torturous and humiliating. Sometimes the condemned was impaled on the end of a long pole, which was then stuck in the ground. Some were affixed to a single vertical post—hands, feet and genitals nailed to the wood so that the accused would slowly die from loss of blood and organ failure. Others were executed on dual posts—one vertical, the other horizontal: cross beams. Whatever the method used, crucifixion was anything but fashionable.

When the Romans chose to use cross beams, the condemned was typically tortured with a whip first, resulting in a great loss of blood which would put the body into shock. Then he was forced to carry the horizontal beam on his shoulders to the place of crucifixion. This beam weighed anywhere from 75 to 125 pounds and, compounded with the loss of blood and loss of strength, would cause the man to weave and stagger under the load, adding to his humility and shame. Many did not make it to their spot of execution, needing someone in the crowd to help them carry their cross. The gathered crowd would jeer and taunt the condemned as weak and unmanly. The cross was not easy to carry.

The cost of crucifixion was more than just the condemned man’s physical death. The Romans would often abuse the bodies as they were dying by breaking bones, poking holes in them with spears, and allowing birds of prey to feed on the dying and dead men’s flesh. The corpse, when finally removed from the cross, would often not even resemble a human. This was the ultimate shame, as many at that time believed the body you had when you died would be the body you were stuck with in the afterlife. Death by crucifixion was meant as eternal humility, eternal punishment. The cost, therefore, of the cross was not just a few hours of pain but of suffering forever and ever. To bear the cross in death was to bear ultimate failure, pain, suffering.

Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.

Perhaps today these words have a nice religious sound to them. Like, “Jesus means we are to deny ourselves, you know, like instead of buying a latte you give five bucks to charity and drink the coffee at work.” Or, “I sacrifice an hour’s sleep and spend that time in prayer.” Both decent enough things to do, but this is not what Jesus was talking about. Once a condemned person picked up the cross, there was no turning back. No last-minute pardon from the governor. That person knew that his or her life was over. This was an execution, not a do-gooders ball.

One of the coolest and wisest people I know is Bob Jobe. I brought up the topic of carrying our cross over coffee once (I think Bob had a latte, and as a matter of fact, it probably cost me about five bucks.)

“Bro,” he said, “we don’t know what the cross really means today. It is just a religious symbol to us, not what it was in Jesus’ time. The closest equivalent for us is the electric chair. Instead of wearing a cross around our necks, we ought to wear a mini-electric chair. And we could change that verse to read, If you don’t strap yourself into the electric chair and prepare to die, you can’t be my disciple.”

Anyone who does not strap himself into the electric chair and prepare to die cannot be my disciple.

No matter how you phrase it, talking like this does not make you or your cause popular. Jesus should have added a PR firm to help him build his ministry. I mean, honestly, you just aren’t going to grow a large church saying the kinds of things he said. People are looking to follow someone who will make their lives better. Yet Jesus made a habit of saying things that drove people away from him.

“You know you are really blessed when you face persecution.”
“If you want to be first, get at the back of the line.”
“The only way to have real life is to eat my flesh and drink my blood.”
“You cannot be my follower unless you consider yourself dead.”

Perhaps you can see why that Jesus did not have a large following at the end. There were only eleven men who stuck it out, and even they ran off when Jesus was arrested. So what about you? What about me? What will we make of these hard sayings of Jesus? Will they drive us away as well?