Your Name Is on His Cross

Few words speak more powerfully to my heart on Good Friday than these words of the apostle Paul to the Romans: "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners,Christ died for us" (Rom. 5:6-8).

God shows his love for us … While we were still sinners … Christ died for us

Plural pronouns – us and we. Christ died for us all. His blood covers the sins of everyone who trusts Him for salvation. So when we speak of His death, we can speak in plural pronouns.

But Christ’s death is very personal as well. Christ died for you. Christ died for me. There’s a popular Christian song that’s been sung for years: “When He was on the cross, I was on His mind.” I don’t know about that. I’m not so sure and tend to doubt that John McCallum was on His mind when He died on the cross. I didn’t have to be because His death was large enough to cover so many more sins than mine. But His death is still personal. It applies to individuals who trust Him. And we could put our names in this text: “You see, at just the right time, when John was powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone did for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while John was still a sinner, Christ died for John.” And you can put your name there too.

And that’s why I like a story I’ve told so many times in the past. It’s not a story in the Bible but it’s a story that teaches a truth fundamental to the Bible. It was delivered in the form of a play. Terry Young saw this play in seminary and told the story in his book, Compelled by the Cross.

A carpenter named Simon and his family lived in Jerusalem during Jesus’ time. The Roman government put out bids for the construction of crosses. Some carpenters were quick to bid the job. Simon was reluctant. He much preferred making tables and cabinets. He preferred objects of beauty to objects of torture and death. He had no intention of making a bid. But Simon’s son was learning the trade and he begged his father to bid one cross so he could have the experience of building it. Simon reluctantly agreed. He was awarded a contract to build one cross.

Simon gave his son the job. And his son worked very hard on that cross. He cut the wood and planed it and sanded it and built a solid and sturdy cross. The government paid them their money and took the cross of their hands.

Some weeks later, Simon’s son came running into their home. He was out of breath and his face was streaked with tears. “What’s wrong, son? Why are you so upset?”

“Daddy, are you the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on in Jerusalem today. The Romans are crucifying Jesus.”

“I am aware of that, son. But why does that upset you so? We’ve seen others die on a cross and we’ve seen prophets crucified too.”

“But daddy, this is different. They’re killing Jesus on my cross, on the cross I made in our shop.”

“You can’t know that, son. Crosses all look pretty much the same. You could never be sure that Jesus’ cross is yours.”

“But I can, daddy, I can. When I was finishing the cross I was so proud of my work that I did what artists do when they finish a work. I carved my name on it. And when Jesus fell on the street under the weight of it, I saw my name. Daddy, my name is on His cross.”

And that’s about as good of news as there is. Your name, my name is on His cross. The price He paid with His death, He paid for you and me. What He did covers our sins and makes it possible for us to be saved. As Paul put it in 2 Corinthians: “He who knew no sin became sin, so that we might become the righteousness of God.”

If you don’t remember anything else on this Good Friday, remember this: your name is on His cross. Jesus died for you.

Saved by a Tree

Jesse Howard is not his real name, but his story is as real as it gets. Howard is middle-aged and works as an employment counselor. In his younger days, he was captivated by the party scene. It was not uncommon for him to spend every Friday night gulping wine and beer and shots of other liquor on the side. In reflecting on those days Howard called himself “young, drunk, and stupid.”

Then, after a string of ten automobile accidents in which he was driving or riding under the influence, Howard learned that well-rooted trees along curved country roads will usually win the battle even when challenged by the most determined of station wagons. Howard was sitting in the front passenger seat of a car that cornered like a four-wheel barge when a friend who was driving rammed into a hardwood more than 100 years old. “That whole night has a lot of blanks in it,” Howard says. “One thing I remember is waking up for awhile and not being able to breathe.”

The next day Howard found himself in the intensive care unit of a hospital with a stabbing pain in the right side of his chest and a tube coming out of his nose. He was remotely aware that he had been in a car wreck. He tried to talk, but he felt he could not get his lips to move. In the next few days, Howard learned that the force of the collision had broken several ribs and ripped a hole in his right lung. That injury and numerous cuts, abrasions and bruises dang near killed him. “I was young, drunk, and stupid,” he says. “I should have been killed. I deserved it.”

Howard used this near-death experience to reflect on his lifestyle, and he determined to make some major changes. He quit drinking altogether. He seldom goes to parties anymore. And when his job requires party attendance, he drinks only flavored water. He much prefers his new lifestyle, he says. There’s less hypocrisy and less game-playing than he experienced in the party scene. He’s much more content than he’s ever been in his life. As Howard puts it, “I can’t say I’m all that proud, but I guess I have that tree to thank.”

Jesse Howard was saved from who-knows-what by a tree—“I guess I have that tree to thank” he says.

On this Good Friday, I want to say a word of thanks about a tree as well. But this is no sprawling oak or hickory tree—no hundred-year-old hardwood. The trunk of this tree is no thicker than a fence post, and it has no branches reaching up to the sky. It has but one branch, really—a branch stretching out across the trunk creating the crude shape of a cross.

There is no beauty in this tree. Photographers do not fight to get its picture. Birds do not nest in its crook. No one seeks its shade. It is an odd little tree—marred by spike holes and stained with blood. Set next to a California redwood or an Arkansas pine this little tree would blush with embarrassment.

But this is the tree that saved my life. Well, not the tree so much, but the One who was nailed on it and left to die. We’re talking about the cross of Christ—the cross on which Jesus suffered and died for your sins and for mine, paying our sin debt, breaking the bondage of our slavery to our worst impulses and darkest thoughts.

Jesus did that for us on a tree—the tree that saves our lives. Jesus' death on the cross offers us salvation in so many ways.

We are saved from a life whose greatest accomplishment is summed up in terms of the size of a fish, the winning of a prize, a particular golf score, financial independence, a promotion in the company, or the applause of others. Because of what Christ did on the cross, our lives can have lasting value and meaning and purpose. Rather than being so earthbound, we can live in and for eternity, doing things on earth that really matter, like sharing Christ and ministering to others and worshiping the Lord. Jesus death on the cross is our salvation.

He saves us from living in the prison of sin’s power, a slave to the temptations that knock at our door. Now, when pride or lust or greed or any other sins that once controlled our lives come to lure us into their seductive embrace again, we can show them the door in the name of Christ. We can say, “Go away and leave me alone. There’s a new Ruler on the throne of my life and you can’t have me anymore.” Jesus’ death on the cross is our salvation in so many ways.

And when we come to that last day when we stand before the judgment seat of God, we need have no fear, for we will be standing in the presence of a Friend, an Advocate. We will know Him by the nail prints in His hands. We will know Him by His sweet voice that declares, “This is one of mine I died for on that tree. Enter into the joy of eternal life.”

Jesse Howard claims that he was saved from being young, drunk, and stupid, by a tree. Thank God for that tree. Jesse’s life is much, much better now. But on this Good Friday I thank God for another tree. This is the tree that can save us from being lost, spiritually dead, and holding a one-way ticket to hell. That tree is the cross—that old bloody cross where Jesus died so that we might have the life that is really life, a life that lasts forever. Let us remember that tree and give God thanks. It may not change colors in the fall. It may not shelter a family of robins in the spring. It doesn’t produce a single thing to eat. But there’s never been a tree in all the earth that matters more.