What Was Really Nailed To The Cross?

“For the law possesses a shadow of the good things to come but not the reality itself, and is therefore completely unable, by the same sacrifices offered continually, year after year, to perfect those who come to worship. For otherwise would they not have ceased to be offered, since the worshipers would have been purified once for all and so have no further consciousness of sin? But in those sacrifices there is a reminder of sins year after year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins. So when he came into the world, he said, “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body you prepared for me. “Whole burnt offerings and sin-offerings you took no delight in. “Then I said, ‘Here I am: I have come—it is written of me in the scroll of the book—to do your will, O God.’” When he says above, “Sacrifices and offerings and whole burnt offerings and sin-offerings you did not desire nor did you take delight in them” (which are offered according to the law), then he says, “Here I am: I have come to do your will.” He does away with the first to establish the second. By his will we have been made holy through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” Hebrews 10:1-10 NET

In the ancient Jewish world, when the law was fully in effect, there was an inherent futility in the practice of sacrifice. It served as a reminder that bulls and goats could not truly take away our sins. Only a perfect sacrifice, a spiritual act only God could provide, would lead to true purification. It stands to reason that the law was merely a temporary solution, paving the way for something greater. I appreciate how the writer expresses that the law is just a shadow of the good things to come rather than the reality itself. In other words, the law articulates spiritual truths that can only be achieved in a spiritual context, yet it is described in earthly terms.

I still find myself asking: Why don’t Jews practice animal sacrifices today, and what led to their cessation? The practice of sacrifice largely ended around 70 C.E., a pivotal moment in history when the Roman army destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem, the sacred site where these offerings were made.

Jews discontinued animal sacrifices out of deep reverence for the designated place in which they were meant to be offered. The Torah explicitly instructs that sacrifices should not be made wherever one may want; instead, they must be offered at the location chosen by God (Deuteronomy 12:13-14). To offer sacrifices elsewhere would be viewed as a significant transgression against divine command.

The Temple in Jerusalem was the last site sanctioned by God for these sacred offerings. With its destruction and the subsequent erection of a mosque in its place, observant Jews await the day they can reclaim the Temple Mount and rebuild the Temple. Many Orthodox Jewish believers eagerly anticipate that moment, yearning to resume the profound practice of animal sacrifices in accordance with their faith and tradition.

As I mentioned in my previous post, the once-and-for-all nature of Jesus’ death represents the perfect sacrifice, eliminating the need for any further actions on our part to remove the consequences of sin. There is no longer a requirement for yearly animal sacrifices to remind us of our fallen state; Jesus' sacrifice covers sin for all time—past, present, and even future sins that have yet to be committed. This timelessness, where his sacrifice transcends all of time, highlights the enduring power of his love.

What makes this truly remarkable is that Jesus is both fully divine and fully human. It is awe-inspiring to realize that our Creator chose to become one of us, intimately understanding our humanity and experiencing our weaknesses firsthand. He did this to demonstrate His love and commitment to us, even though we are undeserving of such love. Indeed, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. (Romans 5:8 NET)

The ancient Hebrew texts of Psalm 40:6-8 sheds some insight: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire— but my ears you have opened— burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not require. Then I said, ‘Here I am, I have come— it is written about me in the scroll’” (Psalm 40:6–7 NIV, 2011).

This profound message resonates through Jesus’ declaration, “He who has ears, let him hear,” as recorded in Mark 4:9, Matthew 11:15, and Revelation 2:7, 2:11, and 2:29. It reminds us that understanding the true meaning of sacrifice is not merely a theological exercise but a deeply personal journey of love and mercy, hearing or perceiving the heart of God. 

This journey calls for us to truly listen and perceive the messages God imparts through the law, moving beyond a rigid, literal interpretation. God desires us to embody a heart brimming with mercy, reflecting the depth of His own mercy, rather than just adhering to the rules. At its core, the law is rooted in love— a love that transforms and uplifts us all.

Was it always God's divine plan to reveal Himself in this way—first through the law and then through Jesus? I am convinced it was. During His time on Earth, Jesus did not violate the law; instead, He fulfilled it in a manner that no one else could. The truth is that it was impossible for any individual to meet the law’s strict requirements without experiencing physical death.

The law, reflecting the divine nature, serves as a mirror of God’s character. Its demand for perfection is so high that no human could genuinely encounter God and survive. If the law is meant to illustrate God’s transformative purpose for our hearts, it should be understood metaphorically rather than literally. This metaphorical interpretation highlights the law’s transformative power, which provides hope and encouragement, guiding us toward the death of our sinful nature rather than the physical death of humans or sacrificial animals.

Jesus personified this concept through His own life. He fulfilled the physical requirements of the law with His death, and when He rose from the grave, He embodied the freedom and grace that His life represents. We live because Jesus lives; we possess eternal life because He embodies everlasting life. Embracing Christ as our Savior signifies a monumental exchange—His life for ours—transforming not just our present reality but our eternal destiny.

Stephen Barnett