What happens when we stop at the Cross?

A powerful message by Pastor Jimmie Vowles

Stop at the Cross

Father, we pray for revelation and understanding. We ask for a deeper knowledge of who You are, of Your love for us, and of Your divine plan for our lives. As we pause and stop at the cross in this moment, Lord, let us see only You, Jesus—no one else. Amen.

As I said last week, there is no true knowledge apart from the cross. At the cross, we come to the knowledge of both ourselves and of God. It immediately confronts us with our natural human nature and with divine love.

Last week, as we sang that song and focused on Jesus, I could picture Him on the cross—bleeding, suffering, and in agony. Then, as I looked at myself through the words of Godfrey Birtill’s song (When I look at the blood), I realized there was no hierarchy at the cross, no competition, no hatred, envy, or jealousy—none of the things that often mark human life. It cut me to the core. I thought, “Oh my God, Jesus—so often I am all of these things. But when I look at Your cross, I should not be.”

When we look at the cross—truly stop there daily—we are faced with absolute beauty and divine love we do not deserve. It is as though we are looking into a mirror, and we begin to see ourselves more clearly. We realize that Jesus, even in His suffering, displayed no unrighteous anger, no jealousy, no lust for power—only perfect love and obedience.

The cross helps us see the seriousness of our sin and our complete inability to save ourselves from it. Even our imagination has been tainted by the fall. We can hardly picture what Eden was like—its safety, beauty, peace, and order. It is difficult for us to comprehend how shocking sin was to a perfect world. A sinful world feels normal to us—until we stop at the cross. There, we meet Jesus, and our sin is dealt with. Only then do we begin to see how God truly intends us to live.

When you first came to Christ, you felt that deep conviction of sin. You looked at the cross and said, “Oh my goodness—I need this in my life.” And as you walk with Jesus, your old self begins to fall away. You start to think, “That’s not how God intended me to live.” Your actions change; your heart softens. You become more like Him. And as you look at the brokenness of the world, your heart aches because you were once part of it. Scripture says that He “has transferred us from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of His beloved Son.” That is the beauty you see when you first come to the cross—and it continues as you walk with Him.

When we experience God’s love and presence, when revelation from His Word fills us, we are overwhelmed. That same glory will fill heaven for all eternity. There will be no depression, no anxiety, no sin. That is what the cross brings us into—a deeper understanding of the love of God.

The theologian Fleming Rutledge once asked, “Why did the Son of God die in the worst possible way? Why crucifixion and not another method?” The answer: because it reveals the depth of depravity caused by human rebellion against God. The cross shows us how truly broken we are—and how deep God’s love goes to redeem us.

I once heard a man say that when he prayed for revelation of the cross, God showed him a vision of Jesus hanging there, every kind of filth and depravity poured upon Him—every unimaginable evil humans commit. Seeing Jesus suffer in that way led him to deeper repentance and greater love for God’s will. Indeed, the cross reveals both the depth of human sin and the height of God’s wisdom and love.

C.S. Lewis captures this beautifully through Aslan’s words in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe: “The Witch knew the Deep Magic, but there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. If she could have looked further back, before the dawn of time, she would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack, and death itself would start working backwards.”

When we stop at the cross, we see the magnitude of God’s love and character. It is beyond comprehension. No film, no novel, no human story of love can compare. Godfrey Birtill sings, “When I look at the blood, all I see is love, love, love.” That is what we see when we stop at the cross—the love of God.

But what we do not see at the cross is equally revealing. There is no competition, no pride, no abuse of power or manipulation, no rage or selfish ambition. There is no unforgiveness, envy, bitterness, or jealousy. No empire-building, no self-importance. When I read the lyrics on the screen that morning, every line pierced my heart. How many times have I manipulated others, held grudges, been prideful or envious? Yet at the cross, all these things shrink away in the light of His love.

When we truly stop at the cross, we realize how unlike Jesus we are. He displayed none of these traits. And our response must be humility: “Lord, You are the only one who is important. Teach me to walk humbly before You.” We need to go to the cross daily, to let our pride and self-importance diminish in His presence.

The Humility of the Cross

Philippians 2:1–8 reminds us of this humility: “Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself… Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus… who made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a servant, and becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross.”

How hard it is to think of ourselves less! Yet Paul calls us to value others above ourselves. When I come to church, I should not exalt myself above my brother or sister, but lift them up, even when I am struggling. That is the mind of Christ—humility, grace, and love.

Jesus, though fully God, humbled Himself in every way. He chose to be born to a poor family, in a stable, to a mother who described herself as lowly. His earthly father was a carpenter. Even their offering at the temple—a pair of doves—showed their poverty. Jesus chose that. He chose humility.

Throughout His life, He never failed in submission to God. He said, “I do not seek My own will, but the will of the Father who sent Me.” (John 5:30) For thirty-three years, He was fully obedient. Even in Gethsemane, sweating blood in agony, He prayed, “Not My will, but Yours be done.” (Luke 22:42)

When He came to John the Baptist to be baptized, John protested, saying, “I need to be baptized by You.” But Jesus replied, “Permit it to be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfil all righteousness.” (Matthew 3:15) Even in that moment, the sinless Son of God chose humility.

In the wilderness, when tempted by Satan to prove His divinity, Jesus refused. He would not act out of pride or self-importance. And even at the Last Supper, knowing the cross was near, He washed His disciples’ feet, leaving them—and us—an example of humility and servant leadership.

John the Baptist understood this when he said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John 3:30) That is the essence of Christian humility. If we do not decrease, Christ cannot be seen in us. The cross strips away pride and self-importance until only Jesus remains visible.

So we must go to the cross every day. When pride, bitterness, or unforgiveness rise up, we must stop there. Nothing else will shrink these things in us. At the cross, they cannot survive. The beauty of Jesus’ humility exposes and dissolves all pride.

Let us pray: “Lord, strip from us pride, envy, unforgiveness, selfish ambition, and all that separates us from Your humility. Holy Spirit, help these things to shrink in our lives. Point us to the cross. Stop us there until we see Your divine love again. Teach us humility. Renew our minds so we may have the mind of Christ.”

When we stop at the cross, everything that exalts self, fades away. What remains is Jesus—His love, His grace, His humility. That is where transformation happens.

As E.M. Bounds once wrote: “All God’s plans have the mark of the cross upon them, and all His plans have death to self in them.”

May we stop at the cross daily—until self-decreases and Christ increases in us.

Amen