The Feast of the Exaltation of the cross – 14^th September 2026 – Numbers 21:4b-9 and John 3:13-17

If we are honest with ourselves, the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross is a bizarre day in the life of the Church. We gather to “exalt,” to lift high, to celebrate, to brag about—an instrument of state-sponsored terror. It is the ancient equivalent of wearing an electric chair around your neck or putting gallows on the church lawn.

To understand the depths of the Cross, the Church takes us back to the harsh, sun-drenched sands of the Sinai Peninsula in the Book of Numbers. The first reading takes place toward the end of the 40 years of wandering in the wilderness, near the border of Edom. Just before this, God had granted Israel a massive military victory over the Canaanite king of Arad. Yet, immediately following that breakthrough, the geography forced them to take a gruelling, indirect detour around Edom because they were denied safe passage through it.

The text notes that “the soul of the people became very discouraged on the way”. This discouragement quickly curdled into outright rebellion. Unlike earlier complaints where they only targeted Moses, this time the people spoke directly against both God and Moses. They committed two distinct spiritual infractions. First, they openly insulted God’s miraculous food supply, stating, “Our soul loathes this worthless bread” (referring to the manna). Then they recycled the old, fearful narrative that God brought them out of Egypt simply to let them die in the desert. In their weariness, something dangerous happened: their inner discouragement curdled into bitter resentment.

God sent “fiery” serpents among them. Their bites bring agony and death. But notice the strange geometry of God’s mercy when the people repent. God does not make the snakes vanish. Instead, He commands Moses to forge a bronze serpent, the exact likeness of the creature that is killing them, and lift it up on a pole. God didn’t give them an ointment; He gave them an assignment. God didn’t tell them to look away from the problem; He told them they had to look directly at it.

This is the heart of the Exaltation of the Cross. God does not always remove the “snakes” (the hardships, the consequences of sin, or the realities of a fallen world) from our lives the moment we pray. Instead, He provides a remedy in the midst of the reality.

Jesus became our bronze serpent; he became the remedy for our sin. He took upon Himself the exact likeness of our curse, hanging on the cross looking like sin and death itself, yet completely free of the venom of sin. When we exalt the Cross today, we are exalting the fact that God takes the very thing that terrifies us, the very instrument of our execution, and turns it into the source of our healing.

When you look at John 3:13–17 on this Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, you’ve got to understand that the cross was never a tragic accident; it was a deliberate assignment. Jesus didn’t stumble onto Calvary; He stepped down from heaven with a rescue plan already written in His blood. We think we need a god who will just wave a magic wand and make our problems disappear, but God says, “No, I’m going to enter your pain so I can alter your perspective.”

But we need to address a reality in our lives; we cannot be healed from a disease we refuse to look at.  God forces us to look at the wound. Why? Because salvation doesn’t begin with pretending, we are fine; it begins with the sobering truth of who we are, and how desperately we need rescue.

Our generation has become professional magicians at hiding our mess. We don’t call it sin anymore, do we? No, we give it nicer, softer names to make ourselves feel better. We don’t call it a destructive spirit of rage; we just say, “Well, I’m a passionate person; that’s just my personality.” We don’t call it a soul-crushing addiction; we call it “taking the edge off after a stressful day.” We spray spiritual perfume on a dead carcass and wonder why our life still smells like decay!

On this feast day, God wants us to stop dressing up a wound that is actively bleeding through your bandages! You are trying to look pretty on the outside, but the venom of sin is paralyzing you on the inside.

We treat sin like a dirty little secret we have to hide from God, as if the Creator of the universe doesn’t see it. We act like Adam and Eve, running into the bushes, sewing fig leaves together, trying to construct a version of ourselves that looks manageable. But exposure is the prerequisite for transformation! If you keep it in the dark, it keeps its power over you. The enemy’s greatest weapon is your secrecy. As long as he can keep you too proud to look at your problem, he can keep you too paralyzed to receive your promise.

The Cross of Jesus Christ is not a piece of sanitized, shiny jewelry; the Cross is the ultimate mirror. When you look at the Cross, you are forced to look at the absolute horror of sin. It shows us exactly how deep the disease goes. It says, “Look at what it took to rescue you.” It strips away all our self-righteousness, all our excuses, and all our religious games. It forces us to look at the ugly truth.

God didn’t put that mirror on Calvary to condemn you; He put it there to cure you! The enemy wants you to look at your sin and see a death sentence, but Jesus wants you to look at the Cross and see a receipt! Paid in full!

Stop running from the reality of your brokenness. Stop acting like you’ve got it all together. Bring that hidden anger, bring that secret compromise, bring that pride that is choking your relationships, and drag it into the light of the Cross. Look at the disease, look at the wound, because the moment you stop hiding it is the exact moment God starts healing it! Face the mirror, receive the mercy, and watch Him turn your hidden shame into your public victory!

Continue Reading