One of the simplest forms of construction is the fastening of two beams together. Men who have never mastered welding or masonry are able to drive nails through wood. Such was the cross.1
The promontory on which the cross was raised would blush to hear itself called a mountain. Although it is the north end of Mount Moriah, it does not share the dramatic boundaries of the Kidron and Hinnom valleys as does the southern flank. It lends itself to a crucifixion site (if any place does) because it offers sufficient elevation to expose the unfortunate victim to passing view while keeping him close enough to hear the taunts and jeers of the passersby.
The city beyond whose gate the ultimate infamy occurred would hardly have been called a world-class metropolis. It was not even recognized by its overlords as the country’s capital; Caesarea Maritima held that honor. Except for the trouble it caused its occupiers, Jerusalem may have gone unmentioned in Roman history. The city—the hill—the tree—all seemed to portend an unremembered event in the sordid history of man’s cruelty to man. But who could imagine that it would ever be written, “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross” (Gal. 6:14)!
How did it happen that the One who claimed to be Israel’s long-awaited Messiah was impaled on a tree? If the nation’s leaders had found Him guilty of blasphemy, why was He not stoned to death as the law decreed? (Lev. 24:16). On more than one occasion the people had picked up stones to stone Him. And it mustn’t be thought that He was not stoned because the Jews no longer had the power to execute criminals. It may have been officially true, but they didn’t worry about that with Stephen (Acts 7:58) or Paul, either (Acts 14:19).
Of course David had described the manner of his greater Son’s death a thousand years before: “They pierced My hands and My feet” (Ps. 22:16). Zechariah adds: “They shall look upon Me whom they have pierced…” (Zech. 12:10). But it is Peter who sees a pattern in Israel’s treatment of rejected kings. “The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree” (Acts 5:30). Technically they hanged Him on a tree and slew Him, but Peter seems to be making a link with Israel’s execution of the Gentile kings they defeated in their conquest of Canaan. Every one they slew and hanged on trees. Only One treated thus was “King of the Jews.” No wonder the leaders objected to the wording of the accusation placed over His head.
Were they afraid that if He was stoned they might have a martyr on their hands? Did it dawn on them that the solution was to have the Romans execute Him their way? (“Crucify!” they cried.) What self-respecting Jew would worship someone hanged on a tree? For “Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree” (Gal. 3:13). Paul records the happy circumstance. The Jews wanted Jesus made a curse—but so did God! “Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us…that the blessing of Abraham might come on the Gentiles through Jesus Christ” (Gal. 3:13-14). Of all things! The Jews, by having Him hanged on a tree, not only made it possible for God to deal with sin’s curse, but to bring Gentiles into the blessing, too!
This month the world pauses to remember the tragedy of last September 11, when one of man’s engineering marvels evaporated before our eyes like the morning dew. How our hearts lay claim to the solid ground beneath us at Calvary. When all else that men have built returns to dust, one structure will remain. Of course it is not the wood and nails which last, but the eternal reality of man’s rude altar and God’s blessed Lamb.
In the cross of Christ I glory, tow’ring o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story gathers round its head sublime.
1. To those who think the instrument of the Saviour’s crucifixion was merely a stake, I remind them of the carefully selected proof required by Thomas, “Except I shall see in His hands the print of the nails…” (Jn. 20:25). If a stake were used, only one nail would be required to fasten the hands.
Written by J. B. Nicholson Jr