An event is like a living organism. Its life depends on the inter-working of all of its parts. Take any one part and you steal the life from the whole thing. This is especially true of John's account of the death of Jesus. John, the theologian of the Gospel writers, more than any of the rest, views the crucifixion of Jesus as more than mere history. In the death of Jesus, John sees the person and purpose of Christ revealed. Let's take a step forward and, by means of John's description of Calvary, stand at the foot of the cross and meet this Christ.

The Gospel writer John tells us, "So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha)." Evidently something about the site resembled a human skull. For those who have gone to Jerusalem and visited the "Garden Tomb" site, this description has meaning. There just outside the ancient city walls of Jerusalem at the site of an old stone quarry is a hill, and as one stands and looks at the rock face, on the side of the hill are two indentations and an outcropping that look like eye sockets and a nose. Perhaps it was this resemblance to a skull that gave the site its name.

But for John, more than a physical resemblance was intended. This place was called Golgotha because it was a place of death, a "skull" place, symbolic of human death and decay. The sign of a skull. A skull and crossbones. We use it to label poison. Pirates used it on their flags to signal their evil intent, their lack of mercy, and to inflict fear into the hearts of others. Here at Golgotha, the symbol was real. This was called "the place of the skull" not only because of the shape of the rock outcroppings. This was a place of death. Here Jesus would die.

John tells us that Jesus is led out "bearing his own cross." No mention is made by John of Jesus' falling and another being asked to take his place. For John it is important that Jesus walk the way of the cross alone, that he bear the instrument of his own sacrifice alone (just as Isaac in the Old Testament was to be sacrificed by his father, Abraham, so will Jesus be -- only this time there will be no ram caught in the bushes to save him). Jesus must bear the cross alone and in doing so show us that he will also bear the sins of all humanity.

John goes on. Fastened to the cross was a sign which read: "Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews." It was there because Pilate had ordered it put there -- not as a testimony of faith, but as a sign of his contempt of the Jews. They were so troublesome. Attempts to placate them only brought pronouncements that "God was their king, not Caesar." And so to poke fun at them, Pilate had that sign put there, proclaiming that Jesus was King of the Jews.

Next notice the soldiers, busy with their usual pastime, dividing the spoils. We even say it, don't we? "To the victor belong the spoils." However, in this case there was little to fight over: some garments, little better than rags, and a robe, for which the soldiers cast lots. But in so doing, the soldiers became part of the Scripture's fulfillment, for in Psalm 22, the Psalmist speaks of the Messiah to come, whose hands and feet will be pierced, and whose garments are divided and robe given to the victor.

The One spoken of was Jesus -- the One whom God would send to bear the burden of humanity and our sinfulness. This is the One who is pierced. This is the lamb sacrificed, the fulfillment of promise, and the gift of salvation.

Finally our survey of the scene at Calvary must include Jesus and those nearby. We see a group of women and a single apostle, gathered at his feet. They gathered there as do families around the bed of a dying loved one. They gathered there to share their pain and lean on one another, so their sorrow and anguish would not overcome them. There they stand. There in the midst of the anger and hatred of the crowd, the mocking of the onlookers, the scorn of the priests and the insult of the soldiers. There, in that place of shame outside the City of Kings, Jerusalem, there they stand waiting for it to be over.

In the midst of those at the foot of the cross is his mother, Mary. What must be going through her mind? Perhaps only a parent who has lost a child to death can truly know. Perhaps only those who have experienced the death of a loved one can truly describe the emotions. Is she thinking of the angels singing and the shepherds at his birth? You know, it's not very far from Bethlehem to Calvary. The distance is really not more than five miles. You could walk it in a couple hours, probably less time than it took for it to be over that fateful Friday. The journey of a lifetime over in the span of a few hours. Perhaps she recalls the words of wise old Simeon at the Temple when Jesus was only a few days old. Simeon had told her, "This child is meant for the rising and fall of many and a sword will pierce your soul also." Maybe it is his own words that she thinks of, the works of wonder, the miracles of God, and the kindness he showed. Or perhaps she remembers the times he spoke of his own death.

What was on her mind we shall never know. Nevertheless, Jesus now speaks to her and even in his hour of greatest need, he thinks of her, provides for her, and assures her that she will be cared for by the disciple who stands nearby.

Events now rush to their conclusion. John writes for us, "Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said, 'I thirst.' " He knew what was happening. This was no surprise to him. He knew he was dying, and he also knew the Scripture, and so to fulfill the Scripture, he said, "It is finished." It is accomplished. It is done. And having done that, he bowed his head and died. Having done all that the Father had requested of him, he offered up his spirit. And with those words, the Gospel writer John concludes his description of the events that fateful Friday. Note, my friends, that I say description and not explanation.

For no matter how skillfully John may write about the happenings that day, he cannot explain the event. For he cannot bring reason to this event -- because the cross is not reasonable. In one sense, we can approach it logically (as we have done in this sermon today). We can describe what happened, reason from one position to another, and formulate doctrines regarding it as theologians have done throughout the centuries.

But no matter how hard we try, we cannot fully explain the cross and Jesus' death. For it will always remain a mystery. This is a riddle that only God can solve. Think of it! The cross, an instrument of torture so cruel that Rome forbad its use on a Roman citizen. A mob of people condemning the innocent, choosing instead to release a common criminal. And the Son of God in the hands of sinful men! No, the cross is a mystery and, try as we may, we cannot impose reason upon it. That the Creator would allow himself to die for God's sinful creation! That the Son of God should suffer so! Centuries ago, the famous church leader Saint Anselm wrote a young man who had his doubts and misgivings about the cross, saying, "Son, you have yet to consider the seriousness of sin."

And that is it. Until we consider the seriousness of our sinfulness, unless we recognize in the horror of the cross our failure before God, our own shortcoming to live as God wishes that we live, we cannot understand the cross. For the cross confronts us with our sinfulness. Here at the cross is revealed the whole vile catalog of sins. Every wrong appetite, every evil desire, every wrong action or unwholesome thought is brought together there that day. James Russell Lowell tells of a painting in Brussels in which God is about to create the world and an angel is depicted as attempting to hold back the arm of God as if to say, "If about to create such a world, stay Thy Hand." But that is not the answer.

It would be easy to blame all this on God, but we cannot. God did not create this world filled with crime, violence, and death that we have come to know. God did not intend for people and their governments to be at war with each other. God did not think up schemes of greed and corruption that would take the savings of the poor and elderly and spend it for penthouses, chauffeurs, and parties. God did not establish an economic system where, even in the wealthiest country of the world, the poor cannot afford homes to live in.

No, this is not God's doing. It is our own. We cannot blame God for the cross. The guilt is ours. And yet the mystery of the cross is just that. This is God's cross. In God's Son, Jesus, God has chosen to bear the cross, to take the punishment that is rightly ours and make it God's own. And therein lies the ultimate mystery of the cross -- the mystery of God's love for us. For the cross is most of all the message of God's love, of God's eternal forgiveness, of God's grace at work, pouring itself down for you and me.

For the cross is God calling a sinful and wandering humanity back to himself. It is God offering comfort to Peter who denied Jesus. It is God offering forgiveness to Paul who persecuted Christ's followers, acceptance to Mary Magdalene whose sinful life mocked God, and God's love to you and me.

In Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania, there is a tomb to an unknown Union soldier who died fighting in the Civil War. When President Abraham Lincoln heard of it, he had the tomb inscribed, "Abraham Lincoln's Substitute. He died that I might live." And so we might inscribe the cross. "He died that we might live."

As we stand at the foot of the cross today, we see the depth of our sinfulness and yet even more wonderfully, the extent of God's love for us. We see the power of God's forgiveness and the grace to begin again. It is a promise that we who are God's children have in God and in God alone, the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.

In Jesus' name. Amen.