We love to talk about resurrection—and rightly so.
The empty tomb is the triumph of life over death, hope over despair, light over darkness. It is the centerpiece of the Christian faith. “If Christ has not been raised,” Paul writes, “your faith is futile and you are still in your sins” (1 Corinthians 15:17). No resurrection, no salvation.
And yet, we must never forget this:
There is no resurrection without the cross.
There is no empty tomb without a bloody tree.
There is no Sunday joy without Friday sorrow.
The path to glory passes through Golgotha.
In a culture that thrives on positivity, celebration, and emotional highs—even within the church—it’s tempting to leap over the agony of the cross and land straight in the joy of Easter morning. But when we skip the cross, we short-circuit the Gospel. We lose the gravity, the cost, the depth of what Jesus accomplished.
We must not skip the cross to get to the resurrection.
The Apostle Paul declares in 1 Corinthians 1:23,
“We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles…”
Notice: not just Christ exalted, not just Christ risen, but Christ crucified.
He doubles down in the next chapter:
“I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.” (1 Corinthians 2:2)
Why does Paul emphasize the crucifixion?
Because the cross is where atonement happens. It’s where sin is judged, justice is satisfied, and mercy is poured out. The resurrection is the victory—but the cross is the payment.
To preach the Gospel without the cross is to offer the crown without the cost. It becomes hollow, superficial, and emotionally driven instead of theologically grounded.
We cannot understand the resurrection unless we understand what Christ rose from.
Romans 6:10 says, “The death he died, he died to sin once for all…”
Sin is not just a mistake. It’s not a minor flaw. It’s cosmic treason—a rebellion against a holy God. The cost of sin is death (Romans 6:23), and that cost was paid in full at Calvary.
When we skip the cross, we minimize sin.
When we minimize sin, we cheapen grace.
When grace becomes cheap, the Gospel becomes shallow.
It is only when we see the depth of our guilt that we can appreciate the glory of our redemption.
Many people want to know: What is God really like?
The clearest picture of God’s heart is not in creation or even in miracles—but in the crucifixion.
Romans 5:8 says,
“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
Jesus did not go to the cross because we were lovable. He went because we were not—and still, He loved us.
On the cross, justice and mercy meet. Wrath and compassion are poured out simultaneously. The Father did not spare His own Son (Romans 8:32) so that He could spare us.
To rush to resurrection without lingering at the cross is to miss the scandalous love of God on full display.
Jesus told His disciples plainly:
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” (Luke 9:23)
The way of the Christian is not glory first, then death—but death, then glory.
Paul said, “We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed…” (2 Corinthians 4:10)
We want victory. We want joy. We want new life.
But Jesus says: Take up your cross.
Resurrection power is real—but it comes after crucified surrender.
It is only through death to self that new life rises.
Imagine telling someone that Jesus rose from the dead, but never explaining why He died. It would be a miracle, yes—but not a salvation.
The resurrection is not just a demonstration of divine power. It is the Father’s declaration that the payment for sin has been accepted.
Romans 4:25 ties them together:
“He was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.”
The resurrection confirms that the cross worked.
But the cross is where the work was done.
The joy of Easter is real, but it’s richer when it comes after the grief of Good Friday.
The power of the resurrection is real, but it’s deeper when it comes after the brokenness of the cross.
Christianity is not triumphalism.
It is not a skipping of sorrow.
It is death, then life. Loss, then gain. Burial, then resurrection.
So don’t skip the cross.
Sit in the awe of His sacrifice.
Let the blood humble you.
Let the nails confront you.
Let the love undo you.
Then, and only then, rise in the joy of the resurrection—not as hype, but as hope born through death.
