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Reading the Text, Feeding the Flock

The Way of the Cross

Jesus calls us to follow him not toward comfort, but toward the cross — where self-denial becomes the path to true life. This sermon reflects on Peter’s resistance, Christ’s costly mission, and the hope of losing what we cannot keep to gain what can never be taken away.

Rev. Rob Jones
August 25, 2026

9–13 minutes

Matthew 16:21–28

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.” 23But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

24Then Jesus told his disciples, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 25For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. 26For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?

27“For the Son of Man is to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay everyone for what has been done. 28Truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”

There are moments in life when one sentence changes the whole conversation.

A doctor walks into the room and says, “We need to talk about the results.” A spouse says, “There is something I need to tell you.” A friend says, “I cannot keep pretending everything is fine.” In a moment, the air changes. The direction changes. The future feels different.

Matthew 16:21 is one of those moments.

“From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things… and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

Up to this point, the disciples have seen Jesus heal the sick, feed the hungry, silence storms, forgive sins, cast out demons, and teach with authority. Peter has just confessed, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And then Jesus says, in effect, “Yes. And this is what it means: suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection.”

This is a major turning point in Matthew’s Gospel. The phrase “from that time” marks a new movement in the story, as Jesus begins openly teaching that his mission will lead to the cross.  

So, this passage begs the question: Do we want Jesus as he is, or only as we imagine him to be?

Three truths stand out.

First, Jesus is not the Savior we would have invented.

Peter hears Jesus speak of suffering and death, and he cannot bear it. He takes Jesus aside and says, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” 

Now, before you pass judgment too quickly, we should not be too hard on Peter. He loves Jesus. He believes Jesus is the Christ. But Peter has room in his mind for a conquering Messiah, not a crucified one. He can imagine thrones, triumph, restoration, and glory. But suffering? Rejection? Death at the hands of elders, chief priests, and scribes? That he cannot comprehend.

It is like a child watching a surgeon prepare to make an incision. The child cries, “Don’t hurt her!” because the child cannot yet understand that the wound is part of the healing. Peter sees the knife, but he does not yet understand the cure.

Jesus’ answer is severe: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me.

Why so strong? Because Peter is tempting Jesus toward a crown without a cross. He is urging Jesus toward glory without obedience, victory without sacrifice, salvation without blood. That temptation had already appeared in the wilderness, when Satan offered Jesus the same thing. Peter does not mean to oppose God, but in that moment his mind is fixed on human things rather than divine will.

And this is still one of our great temptations. We want a Jesus who affirms our plans, protects our comfort, and crowns our ambitions. We want forgiveness without repentance, blessing without surrender, resurrection without death. But Jesus will not be remade in our image. God is who God is, and our personal preferences do not change that.

Jesus is not merely a teacher with helpful principles. He is not merely an example of courage. He is not a chaplain for our self-improvement projects. He is the Christ who came to suffer for sinners, to bear judgment, to conquer death by entering it. He came to bring his people to God.

Jesus is not the Savior we would have invented. But he is the Savior we needed.

Second, the way of Jesus becomes the way of his disciples.

Jesus turns from Peter to all the disciples and says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

By now, the phrase “take up your cross” can sound familiar, even soft. People may say, “This sickness is my cross,” or “This difficult person is my cross to bear.” But in the first-century Roman world, a cross was not a symbol for ordinary inconvenience. It was an instrument of public shame, torture, and execution. Crucifixion was used by Rome especially for slaves, rebels, and the lowest criminals, and the condemned would often be forced to carry the crossbeam to the place of death.  

So, when Jesus says, “Take up your cross,” he is not saying, “Have a generally positive attitude during hard times.” He is saying, “Come and die.”

Die to self-rule. Die to the illusion that your life belongs to you. Die to the demand that obedience must always be safe, admired, and convenient. Die to the old instinct that says, “I will follow Jesus as long as he goes where I already wanted to go.”

A man was on his way home. His path was well known; the road was rough and wound through hills and valleys. Finally, he comes to a toll bridge. He comes to a stop; his wagon is full of everything he has spent his life collecting: reputation, grudges, secret sins, private plans, cherished comforts, and the need to be in control. He can see home across the bridge. But the bridge keeper says, “You may cross, but the wagon cannot.” The man argues, bargains, delays, and even weeps. But at last, he sees the truth: the wagon is not treasure. It is weight.

That is discipleship. Not the loss of true life, but the loss of everything that keeps us from it.

Jesus says, “Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

This is not a call to earn God’s favor by suffering. That would be terrible news. Christ alone earns our salvation. Christ alone bears the curse. Christ alone gives himself as the ransom. But those united to him are drawn into his pattern. The saved life becomes a surrendered life. The forgiven person learns to follow. Grace does not leave us enthroned over ourselves; grace frees us from ourselves.

The way of Jesus becomes the way of every disciple.

Third, Jesus teaches us to measure profit by eternity.

“What will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?”

That question cuts through every age. It cuts through boardrooms and classrooms, kitchens and churches, bank accounts and private browser histories. What if you get what you want, and it costs you yourself? What if you win the argument but lose your soul? What if you keep the relationship peaceful by never telling the truth? What if you preserve your image by hiding your sin? What if everyone thinks you are alive, but before God you are wasting away?

Jesus asks us to do the math.

Say you have a scale that could weigh anything. You put gold on it, and the scale gives its value. Put jewels on it, and the scale gives their value. Put land deeds, titles, applause, and influence on it, and the scale measured them all. At last, You placed your own soul on one side and the whole world on the other. The world may have looked enormous, glittering, irresistible. But the scale does not move. Your soul outweighs it all.

That is Jesus’ point. You may gain the world, and that would still be a bad bargain.

And then Jesus gives the reason: “For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done.”

The cross is not the end of the story. Jesus speaks of suffering, but also resurrection. He speaks of losing life but also finding it. He speaks of shame, but also glory. The Son of Man who goes to Jerusalem to be rejected will come again in the glory of his Father.

That means Christian self-denial is not despair. It is hope with its eyes open. We can give up the lesser thing because Christ gives the greater. We can confess sin because mercy is real. We can forgive because judgment belongs to God. Shame is not something to be endured because glory is coming. We can lose our lives for Christ because in him our lives are kept.

So, what do we do with this?

Here is the call: get behind Jesus.

That is exactly where disciples belong. Peter got into trouble when he tried to stand in front of Jesus and correct his path. Jesus says, “Get behind me.” Not merely, “Go away,” but “Return to your place. Follow me.”

Some of us need to get behind Jesus in repentance. We have been telling him which sins are negotiable, which commands are unrealistic, which relationships are exempt from obedience. Today, we lay down the argument.

Some of us need to get behind Jesus in suffering. We have assumed that hardship means God has abandoned us. But Jesus’ own ministry teaches us that the Father’s beloved Son walked the road of suffering not because the Father had forgotten him, but because salvation was being accomplished through him.

Some of us need to get behind Jesus in mission. His ministry was not self-preservation. He touched lepers, welcomed sinners, confronted hypocrisy, fed the hungry, taught the confused, wept with the grieving, and set his face toward Jerusalem. If we follow him, our lives cannot be curved inward forever. We are sent into the world with a cross-shaped love: humble, truthful, costly, and hopeful.

The good news is that Jesus does not merely point to the cross from a safe distance. He takes it up. He denies himself, not because he had sin to repent of, but because he came not to be served but to serve. He loses his life, not in defeat, but as the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep. He is killed, and on the third day he is raised.

So measure the cost, and get behind Jesus.

Not the Jesus of easy triumph, but the Jesus of Calvary and Easter. Not the Jesus who baptizes our self-rule, but the Jesus who saves us from it. Not the Jesus who helps us gain the world, but the Jesus who gives us life.

Take up the cross before you, trusting the Savior who carried his cross for you.

Lose the life you cannot keep and find the life that can never be taken away.

Amen.

Works Cited and References:

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