Easter: The Crucifixion

I was reading some of my Quiet Time journal entries from April 2021 this past week, and it dawned on me that Violet is approaching five years of living with Type One Diabetes.  We discovered Violet had T1D on Easter Sunday…and my journal entries were pretty difficult for me to read.

For the first six months following her diagnosis, she was very anxious and fearful when it was time to switch out her Dexcom or Omnipod. Every ten days, we remove the old Dexcom and put a new one on in a different spot.  We press it onto the skin, press the button, and a small, sharp needle (that looks like a nail) pierces the skin, and then it shoves a copper wire into the hole.

Here is my journal entry…

“Since Violet’s diagnosis with T1D, it has been hard. I have cried a lot. Yelled a lot. I have been short with the girls and my wife. The third diagnosis has resurfaced all the emotion that I felt when Sofia and Naomi were diagnosed. Last night was a pod site change for Violet. She freaked out. Panicked. Terrified. It was a numbing, stress-making moment. Poor V. She gets so worked up and fears the unknown. This is a terrible disease. So God. What’s going on? Why did my kids have to get T1D? Why is this your will for their lives?”

The hardest part is watching my children deal with something hard that I can’t take from them.  I would gladly take their disease and carry it myself if I could. I would take it in a second if I could. I would trade places with her. And I know I’m not the only one. That feeling of wanting to step in and take “bad” from them.

That’s not just a parenting instinct. That’s… a glimpse of the cross. What we wish we could do for our children is actually… what Jesus did for us.

And in this passage we are about to read, Jesus wrestles with the decision.

Mark 14:33-36 (NLT2)
He took Peter, James, and John with him, and he became deeply troubled and distressed. 34  He told them, “My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.” 35  He went on a little farther and fell to the ground. He prayed that, if it were possible, the awful hour awaiting him might pass him by. 36  “Abba, Father,” he cried out, “everything is possible for you. Please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

What did we just read?  Was this Jesus joyfully and peacefully accepting God’s will, or was he in a knock down drag out with God in prayer? Jesus wanted God’s will to be done…but he didn’t want to drink the cup of suffering.

This isn’t symbolic.
This isn’t poetic.
He’s overwhelmed…

And yet…He still says yes to God’s Will.

And, chances are you have said that same thing, too. “Your Will be done.”

Our Father
Who art in Heaven
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy Kingdom Come
Thy will be done…
On earth as it is in Heaven.

Many of us have often prayed for God’s will to be done in our lives.  And then, something hard happens…And we're like…“What the…I prayed for God’s will – this wasn’t supposed to be part of it…”

But God did answer Jesus' prayer. Just not the way Jesus wanted.

The truth is…

God’s will brings joy…and pain

When Jesus says, “Take this cup of suffering from me,” He is not simply referring to the physical suffering of the cross. He is referring to what is in the cup. He says, “Please take this cup of suffering away…” because He understands exactly what He is about to endure.

Jesus is not just looking ahead to the nails, the crown of thorns, or even the crucifixion itself. He is looking at something far greater and far heavier.

In Scripture, the cup represents the wrath of God toward sin. It is the full weight of divine judgment against every act of rebellion committed against a holy God. Every sin across all of human history is accounted for in that cup, and someone must drink it.

Listen to how the prophet Isaiah describes it.

Isaiah 51:17 (NLT2)
Wake up, wake up, O Jerusalem! You have drunk the cup of the LORD’s fury. You have drunk the cup of terror, tipping out its last drops.

Isaiah is describing people overwhelmed and staggering under the weight of God’s judgment. That is the picture of the cup, and that is what Jesus sees waiting for Him in the Garden.

It was not the physical pain of the beating, the scourging, or the crucifixion that caused Jesus such anguish. It was the spiritual reality that He would take upon Himself the full wrath, fury, and anger of God toward sin. So why would God respond to sin with that kind of intensity?

One way to understand it is to think about it like this. Imagine a parent watching their child become addicted to meth. They watch the lies, the stealing, the manipulation, and the constant desperation for one more hit. They watch that addiction slowly take everything from their child until one day, that child overdoses and dies. What does that parent feel toward meth?

They hate it. They fight against it. They do everything in their power to stop it from destroying someone else. Why? Because it destroyed someone they loved.

Now multiply that reality across every life that has been destroyed by sin throughout history. Every broken relationship. Every destroyed marriage. Every life that has been devastated. God sees all of it, and His anger toward sin is rooted in the destruction it causes to the people He loves.

So when Jesus is in the Garden, He is not simply anticipating physical suffering. He is looking into the full weight of God’s wrath that He is about to absorb on behalf of humanity. And still, He surrenders.

He submits His will to the Father.

Which means God’s will did not lead Him around pain. It led Him directly into it.

I have seen this in my own life. God’s will has taken me through painful seasons. Disease. Diagnosis. Loss. Moments I would never have chosen for myself. If the will of God included a cross for Jesus, we should not be surprised when it includes pain for us as well. But the pain is not random, and it is not without purpose.

Just as there was purpose in the suffering of Jesus, there is purpose in the pain we experience when we walk in obedience to God’s will.

God’s wrath crushed Jesus…for you

In the original language, Mark 14:33-36 reads, “And having gone a little farther, He was falling on the ground and He was praying…”

This is not a one-time moment. It is continuous. He is praying and falling. He is trying to move forward and collapsing. He is staggering under the weight of what He sees in that cup.

He is…in agony over God’s wrath.
…overwhelmed by the terror of what He is about to endure.
…crushed by the judgment He knows is coming.

The burden is so great that He cannot remain standing. This is not a composed, calm picture of the Savior of the world. This is emotionally troubling for any of us to see...

Can you see Him? He is staggering. He is falling to the ground. He is crushed under the weight of God’s wrath that is about to be poured out on Him.

And in verse 36, He cries out, “Abba.” “Daddy.”

In Aramaic, “Abba” expresses a level of closeness that no formal title can carry. It is the word a child uses when they run to their father.

Jesus says, “Daddy…please…”
“If there is any other way, let this cup pass from me.”
“Find another way.”
“But if this is the only way…your will be done.”

And then, on the ground in that Garden, He surrenders. “Not my will, but yours be done.”

And God’s will moved forward.

John 19:16-18a (NLT2)
Then Pilate turned Jesus over to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus away. 17  Carrying the cross by himself, he went to the place called Place of the Skull (in Hebrew, Golgotha). 18  There they nailed him to the cross.

God’s will for the suffering of Jesus had a purpose. It was not to create a religion. It was not to start a movement. It was to pay for sin.

God is just. Sin carries a penalty, and that penalty had to be paid. Jesus stepped in and paid what you and I never could.

2 Corinthians 5:21 (NLT2)
For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.

1 Peter 3:18 (NLT2)
Christ suffered for our sins once for all time. He never sinned, but he died for sinners to bring you safely home to God. He suffered physical death, but he was raised to life in the Spirit.

And since Jesus became the offering for our sin…Since He suffered for our sins…Since His purpose was to bring us safely home to God…Then…

Nothing can separate you from God’s love

Think about everything that would normally end a relationship with someone else. Death. Life. Fear. Failure. Sin. The devil. Your past. Your future. Any one of those things can destroy a relationship.

None of them can separate you from God.

There is nothing you can do today that would cause Him to say, “That is it. I am done.”

Romans 8:38-39 (NLT2)
And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. 39  No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

There is nothing in your PAST that pushes God away. There is nothing in your PRESENT that surprises Him. There is nothing in your FUTURE that will cause Him to walk out.

He already saw it. He already knew it. He already paid for it.

His love is not based on your performance. His love is PERMANENT because of the suffering of Jesus that cannot be reversed. The cross cannot be undone. The payment cannot be refunded. The decision cannot be reconsidered.

God did not love you only on your best day. He loved you at your worst.

And through the cross, He determined that NOTHING will ever be able to separate you again.

Not. One. Thing.

I want to talk to two different people right now:

The first person is carrying something from their past. Not something they are doing today. Something they did. Maybe years ago. And they have confessed it. They have repented. But they cannot put it down. They replay it. They rehearse it. They wake up with it. And somewhere along the way, that guilt became a wall between them and God. Here is what I want you to hear. God is not holding that over you. You are.

The cross settled that sin the moment Jesus said it is finished. The payment was made. The record was cleared. And when you keep dragging it back into the room, you are not being humble - you are questioning the cross. You are telling God that what Jesus did was not enough.

It was enough. Put it down. Leave it at the cross where it belongs. And fight to walk in the freedom that has already been purchased for you.

The second person is dealing with something different. It is not the past. It is right now. The same sin, over and over again. And they confess it every time - but confession has become a routine. They say the words, feel a little better, and take the sin right back home with them.

That is not repentance. That is an apology.

Repentance is not just telling God you are sorry. Repentance is a turn. It is a decision that says - I am done walking in that direction. The goal is not just to feel forgiven. The goal is to become free.

So if that is you, stop confessing and start repenting. Bring it to God. Ask Him for the strength to turn from it. Find someone you trust and tell them what you are fighting. Stop carrying it alone. Because that sin is not just hurting you - it is keeping you from becoming who God made you to be.

And then show that same uncomfortable grace to someone else. Release that grudge. Forgive them for the hurt they caused. Treat them like someone God still loves. Because He does.