If you think this is a stretch—consider again the gravity of Jesus’ words:
“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up.”
Here, Jesus speaks in two senses of lifting up: not only the what—the one lifted—but also the why. What is lifted is the Messiah Himself, the atoning sacrifice. But why He is lifted up—that is the deeper meaning. That is the nace.
The why is the faithfulness of God—displayed in His prophetic promises. It is the pole upon which the banner of Messiah is raised. Yes, Jesus is lifted up as a banner, a signal, a nace—because of the oracles of God. This is the only legitimate elevation of the Christ. The only foundation upon which He is Messiah to the people. The only reason faith in Him has meaning. The light from which unbelievers flee is not some abstract glow—it is the clear, confronting p’shat of Scripture, fulfilled in Him.
We all know the hymn:
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Yes. I share these feelings deeply. I became dead to the world and the world to me.
But make no mistake: you will not get there by surveying a Cross—only by surveying a Nace.
What Christ died on, and what He died for, is not reducible to a piece of wood. Not to anything natural, sentimental, or sensible. Not to what can be spiritualized into our projections of the divine. It is vertical in origin, but horizontal in application. A burden and a beacon. It lifts Christ before the world—not as ornament, but as ultimatum. A nace is either the radiant sign of salvation or a grotesque scandal of rejection. It is either a cosmic violation of transcendence or its perfect vindication. For one, a whip. For another, a reason to live—and to die.
The nace is the Revelation of Jesus the Messiah—foretold by prophets, fulfilled in time, lifted as a witness to all. And yes, it is far more wondrous than a mother’s hug or a moral code.
What would Bible exposition look like if we reclaimed messianic prophecy as the singular ground for faith in Christ—the only content ordained for evangelism?
What would be the foundation for the next real reformation?
It will not come through the what of Scripture alone—the p’shat. Not merely through feelings of sorrow for Jesus’ pain. Not through guilt or gratitude. Not through moral codes or religious identity. Not through dreams of heavenly reward or sentimental attachment to religious symbols. Not through instincts and hunches dressed up as faith. Not even through “grace through faith alone,” when that phrase becomes a creed detached from its prophetic origin.
It will not come through anything Christianity shares with other religions. For the foundation must be what no other faith dares claim: fulfilled messianic prophecy.
The true reformation will come through the why of Scripture—the remez. The mystery revealed. The cross—if it is to be more than a religious relic—must be a nace. Not an immissa cross, with its horizontal intrusion of human tradition and religious extrapolation. Not a symbol inflated into substance. But the prophetic signal lifted high—interpreted, confirmed, vindicated.
This is not to say the traditional cross shape (immissa) has no meaning. It does.
It signifies our hard-heartedness.
“Because I knew that thou art obstinate… thy neck is an iron sinew… thy brow brass… I have declared it to thee before it came to pass… lest thou shouldest say, Mine idol hath done them…”
(Isaiah 48:3–8)
The traditional cross reminds us of how we distort revelation into relic. How we exalt the medium and forget the message. But the shape itself does not matter. The only thing that matters is what the wood ultimately means.
Consider the Ten Commandments monument controversy in Alabama. That conflict, ironically, became its own banner—each side seeing in the symbol either a threat or a treasure. But both sides missed the substance: not “Christian values,” but divine vindication through fulfilled prophecy. Not just morality, but messianic testimony.
The true banner was never the monument. It was the Word, confirmed.
So: When you survey the wondrous cross, what do you see?
If all you see is pain, or guilt, or inspiration, you’ve missed it.
Survey instead the nace—the true prophetic banner.
Take up a survey of what proves not your own worthiness, but God’s moral integrity to the world. Only then can you say that you have truly surveyed the Wondrous Cross—and known not just the story of Jesus, but the certainty of God.
Here is the next article in this series: The Meaning of the Cross and the Lord’s Prayer, part 2: Passing by Nehushtan
What is the Word of God?: Passing by Nehushtan
An Analysis of the Brazen Serpent Imagery: Passing by Nehushtan
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