Mark 8:31-38
I don’t know if this story is true, but I remember hearing about an old woman who hated the verse in the Bible about women submitting to their husbands. Whenever anyone would mention it, she would shake her head and say, “That’s not in the Bible.” Her pastor got frustrated with her stubborn refusal to admit the biblical mandate, and he said to her, “I can show you where it is in the Bible.” She replied, “I can show you where it isn’t in my Bible.” She opened up her Bible to the book of Ephesians, and there in chapter five, was a hole—a neat, rectangular hole, where she had cut out the offending portion.
If I were a Bible-cutter, today’s scripture reading is one that I would be tempted to cut out. I don’t like this “deny yourself” thing. I don’t want to pick up a cross. Frankly, I would be tempted to cut it out of your Bible, too.
It has been used for too many years by those in power to tell those without power why they should remain powerless: It’s the cross you have to bear. Too many people have been taught, directly or indirectly, that suffering is ordained by God. Too many people have been taught that suffering brings salvation, and so they shouldn’t fight against their oppression because great will be their reward in heaven. For too many years, slaves were taught to submit to their masters as Jesus submitted to the cross. Women were taught to submit to their husbands, regardless of how their husbands treated them. People tortured by unjust systems have been told to suffer for Jesus. People have stayed in abusive relationships because that was the cross they had to bear. But I don’t think any of this is what Jesus meant when he said pick up your cross, and it’s certainly not what it means to us today.
Now, I want to stop here for a moment to talk about theories of atonement. I did this in Leisurely Lectionary this week, so those of you who were there can either take a nap now or look around with an “I already know this” look of superiority on your face! Atonement, if you take the word apart, is at-one-ment, the state of being at one or reconciled with God. Theories of atonement, therefore, address the questions of why Jesus died, what he or God was trying to accomplish. In other words, what was Jesus doing on the cross?
The theory most prominent during the time of the early church was the ransom theory. “Essentially, this theory claimed that Adam and Eve sold humanity over to the Devil at the time of the Fall.” Therefore, a ransom had to be paid to the devil “to free us from the Devil’s clutches. God, however, tricked the Devil into accepting Christ’s death as a ransom, for the Devil did not realize that Christ could not be held in the bonds of death.”[1] This explanation is not widely believed today so I’m not going to spend much time on it.
Then came the satisfaction theory, which began in the eleventh century. This concept was rooted in the European feudal system of the time, and it claimed that sin disturbed the honor of God so greatly that a price must be paid to restore God’s honor. This explanation is not widely followed today, either.
But a similar theory arose centuries later, and it has been fairly predominant in recent history. It’s called the substitutionary or penal-substitution theory. This theory proclaims that because of our sin, we owe a debt to God. Because God is so perfect and we are so sinful, we are not capable of paying that debt ourselves. So it took a blood sacrifice, in the form of Jesus, to die as a substitute for us. And because he was perfect, his sacrifice put an end to the sacrificial system that demanded blood be shed to forgive sins. We see this theory at work in songs like “Beneath the Cross of Jesus”: “Upon that cross of Jesus mine eye at times can see the very dying form of one who suffered there for me.”
Another classic understanding of what Jesus accomplished on the cross is the Christus Victor theory, which says that Jesus’ purpose on the cross was to conquer sin and death. No longer would we be held under the power of original sin. No longer would we be controlled by death. Christ defeated both sin and death, setting us free. One of the important differences in this theory is that God did not require blood in order to forgive us. You can see this theory evident in hymns such as “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today”: “Live again our glorious King; Where, O death is now thy sting? Dying once, he all doth save, Where thy victory, O grave?”
And last but not least comes the moral exemplar theory. This theory states that what Jesus did on the cross was give us an example to follow. But he didn’t do this just in death; he did it in life, too. Jesus came and lived in such a way as to show us how to live, too. His death was not ordained by God but was a consequence of the way he lived. He stood up to the powers that be. He messed with the status quo. He refused to bow to unjust systems. And he paid the price—not for our sins, but the price of taking a stand. The example we are to follow is not to follow him in death, but to follow him in life even if death is the result.[2]
There are many more theories of atonement, or explanations for what Jesus did on the cross, but those are the main classical ones. Of the three that are still widely believed today, there was the substitution theory, which says that Jesus paid our debt to God, the christus victor theory, which says that Jesus conquered sin and death, and the moral examplar theory which says that Jesus’ purpose was to give us an example. Which of these resonates with you?
OK, that’s the end of the seminary class lesson. Why am I doing more teaching than preaching this morning? Because unless you understand what Jesus was doing on the cross, you cannot understand what it means to be told to take up your own.
If you subscribe to the substitutionary atonement theory, where Jesus died on the cross to save our sins, what would it mean to pick up your cross? It can’t mean to die. Jesus already did that. It can’t mean to pay for your sins. Jesus already did that, too. It doesn’t even mean to suffer. Jesus did enough of that. Jesus’ purpose in living was to die, according to this theory, so that he could bring us forgiveness. But that’s not your purpose in life. That was Jesus’ purpose. So what is your purpose in life? What is your purpose for existing? Whatever it is, that is your cross. That is what you should take up: your own calling to the best of your ability. The cross in this case is not a symbol of torture and death. It is a symbol of purpose, of mission. You take up your mission, and live it.
So now, what if you believe in the christus victor theory of atonement, where Jesus’ death brought victory over sin and the grave? Then what could it mean to pick up your cross? It means to claim victory over that which binds you. It means nothing shall have power over you—not the fear of death or the fear of life, not greed or rage or concerns about your image. Your cross may be heavy, but it will ultimately lead to life; it will ultimately lead to freedom; it will ultimately lead to victory. If it doesn’t, it wasn’t your cross.
And finally, if you subscribe to the moral exemplar theory, where Jesus lived and died in order to be an example of a moral, godly life, then what is your cross? The emphasis is on standing up for what you believe in, challenging the powers that be, upsetting the status quo, welcoming the outcast and embracing the leper. The cross is one possible outcome, not the goal. So you take on these things knowing that a cross may be the result, but knowing full well that it’s worth the price.
I hope you noticed that in none of these theories does it tell you to take on suffering for the sake of suffering. Yes, there is suffering in the world; there is pain, both small and life-threatening. But God isn’t calling you to it. It simply is . . . because we live in a world that contains accidents and cancer cells, a world where some people use their free will to bring blessing and some use it to bring curses. God doesn’t send suffering. Oh, God will use it, work through it, to bring about good. We might find meaning in the midst of our suffering—I certainly hope that we do. But when we claim that our pain or suffering is from God, we miss the point.
This period of unemployment that is weighing so heavily on you … God didn’t send it in order to teach you how to rely on others. This illness that brings you pain or shame or hopelessness … God didn’t send it in order to teach you patience. This problem that threatens to pull apart your family or destroy your children’s lives is not God’s way of warning you about disobedience. These things are the result of living in an imperfect world.
The cross Jesus is calling us to pick up is not about suffering. Jesus is calling us to be who we were created to be—using all our gifts and all our blessings to be who God calls us to be. Jesus is calling us to be victorious over the things that bind us so that we are free to follow Christ. Jesus is calling us to make peace our aim and justice our goal, to welcome those the world excludes and honor those the world reviles.
If the cross you think you’re carrying isn’t doing at least one of these things, then I question whether it’s what God is calling you to. And if God didn’t call you to it, you might be able to put it down.
Legend tells us the story of two monks who were walking through the countryside. As they walked, they spied an old woman sitting at the edge of a river. She was upset because there was no bridge, and she could not get across on her own. The first monk kindly offered, “We will carry you across if you would like.” She gratefully accepted their help. So the two men joined hands, lifted her between them and carried her across the river. When they got to the other side, they set her down, and she went on her way. After they had walked another mile or so, the second monk began to complain. “Look at my clothes,” he said. “They are filthy from carrying that woman across the river.” The first monk just smiled and nodded his head. A few more miles up the road, the second monk griped again, “And my back still hurts from carrying that silly woman across the river! I cannot go any further because of the pain.” The first monk looked down at his partner, now lying on the ground, moaning; and he said, “Your back hurts because you are still carrying the woman. I set her down five miles ago.”[3]
You may be carrying a burden you cannot escape, and if so, I pray you will find meaning and courage and hope in the midst of your pain. But if you are carrying a self-imposed cross, or a cross someone else placed upon you—a cross of shame, blame, or resentment—then set it down.
The cross God calls us to isn’t an instrument of torture or death. The cross God calls us to is the path of life.
[1] Haflich, Don. “Five Theories of the Atonement.” Protestant Voices. https://byfaithinchrist.wordpress.com
[2] A variety of sources were used for this, including my memory of seminary classes. But in addition to the Haflich source noted already, I also relied on http://www.religioustolerance.org/chr_atone5.htm.
[3] Dr. Anthony T. Evans, Guiding Your Family in a Misguided World.