Mount Calvary

MOUNT CALVARY

 

So, today I want to take you for a few moments to a hill called Calvary.

 

It wasn’t much to look at—a rocky outcrop outside Jerusalem, shaped like a skull. In Latin, it’s Calvaria. In Aramaic, Golgotha. Just hearing those names sent a chill through people’s spines. Everyone knew what happened there. It was the place of execution. The place of shame. The place of death.

 

It stood as a symbol of Roman power—a public theater of cruelty where criminals were nailed to wood and left to die. But one day, Calvary became something else. On that hill, the Son of God took His final steps… not away from suffering, but toward it. Jesus chose the cross.

 

The cross wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a detour in the plan. It was the plan.

 

That day, three crosses stood on that hill. Three men were crucified. But only one was innocent.

 

To one side of Jesus hung a man hardened by life—angry, bitter, even in his final breaths. He hurled insults. Mocked the very one who could save him.

 

On the other side, a different man. A criminal, yes, but also a man suddenly aware—aware of his guilt, aware of who Jesus was. With barely enough breath left, he whispered a prayer: “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”

 

And Jesus, beaten and bloodied, turned to him and said, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with Me in paradise.”

 

Think about that. In his dying moments, Jesus wasn’t focused on Himself—He was offering hope. Offering mercy. Offering heaven.

 

That’s what Calvary is all about.

 

Jesus didn’t just carry a wooden beam up that hill—He carried our sin. He carried our shame. Our sickness. Our sorrow. Every failure. Every secret. Every burden too heavy for us to bear.

 

Isaiah said, “He was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed.”

 

And today… the cross still stands.

 

Not on that hill, not in physical form—but as a symbol, a reminder, a declaration. That no matter who you are, no matter what you’ve done—grace is still available. Forgiveness is still possible. Redemption is still real.

 

The criminal on the cross couldn’t fix his past. He couldn’t make it right. All he could do was look to Jesus—and that was enough.

 

Maybe that’s you today. Maybe you feel like you’ve gone too far or waited too long. But hear this: Jesus is still answering desperate prayers. He’s still turning shame into salvation. And He’s still saying, “Today you will be with Me in paradise.”

 

The cross wasn’t the end of the story. It was the turning point.

 

Because of Calvary, hope lives. Love wins. And grace flows freely.

 

So don’t just look at the cross. Come to it. Bring your brokenness, your questions, your fears. And know this: the cross still stands… for you.