In the Roman world, the cross was the symbol of imperial dominance, a brutal instrument used to execute rebels and criminals; crucifixion was designed to strike fear into the populace.
Share
In the Roman world, the cross was the symbol of imperial dominance, a brutal instrument used to execute rebels, criminals, and those who threatened the peace and authority of the Empire. Crucifixion was intentionally public and humiliating, designed to strike fear into the populace and act as a deterrent against challenging Roman authority. Jesus was crucified for sedition against the Roman Empire, charged with claiming to be a king—a direct violation of the Roman mantra "no king but Caesar." Further, it was politics and religion that partnered and killed Jesus because he would not be simplified, as they sought a leader who would conform to their expectations and agenda rather than embrace his message of peace and spiritual salvation. The Zealots needed him to be a nationalist warrior even though Zealots were his disciples; he never aligned with their violent methods. The Jews wanted a messiah like a king, so they reduced him to a singular identity of a warrior who would overthrow the Romans (religious nationalism). Rome needed him to be a compliant subject, but he refused every reduction. However, the Nazareth manifesto (Isaiah 61:1 and Luke 4:14-21) brought a new image of God not because the poor are morally superior, but because they are the ones being crushed.
The plural identities of Jesus for radical change
Jesus intentionally chose plural identities—He was a Jew who healed the servant of a Roman centurion. He was a rabbi who sat with prostitutes and tax collectors. He was a man in a violently patriarchal context, yet he made women his disciples, appeared first to women after the resurrection, and engaged women as full equals. He conversed with a Samaritan woman that Jewish nationalism despised. He was a preacher who questioned the interpretation by scribes and Pharisees. He told the rich they were in spiritual danger. He told the poor that the Kingdom was theirs. He told the powerful that God was not in their corner. None of this is accidental. Jesus was a living argument against the identity-based exclusion. Every boundary he crossed announced that the walls were from the empire. The Kingdom of God systematically demolished every single one of those boundaries. His journey to the cross was an act of radical defiance, challenging both the imperialists and religious leaders who upheld systems of oppression and exclusion. Luke 22 & 23 reveals this clash with power at every stage. In choosing this path, Jesus exposed the emptiness of earthly power and affirms the dignity of those whom empire and religious elites seek to crush.
Transforming power of resurrection
The resurrection of Jesus created a profound “power vacuum” in the empire, not by instantly collapsing its military but by challenging the very theological and ideological basis of Roman authority. While the empire used the cross to display power through violence and destruction, Christ’s death and resurrection reversed that. He did not negotiate a ceasefire before Golgotha. He went through the full horror and came out the other side as something the world had never seen—a love that couldn’t be contained, which is the only power stronger than war.
Resurrection is God's refusal to allow empire to have the final say; it confronts all deeply rooted, life-denying institutional frameworks that result in societal hypocrisy, apathy, inequality, and subjugation.
For the suffering world today, wherein some wars are not new but old grievances weaponised by new leadership in Gaza, Ukraine, Iran, Myanmar, and Manipur. When hope collapses with years of military operation and displacement, where a generation is raised in rubble, when children learn that the world is not safe, when mothers hold their babies with either dead or broken arms and try to keep holding the broken by sorting through the rubble. When women and girls face specific dangers, including sexual violence used as a strategic weapon of war. People have become so used to death announcements—the daily figures, weekly tolls, and yearly estimates.
But the story does not end here. For every war-torn land, lying in the dark, sealed in grief, scattered in exile, this is the promise—it is not over; the dawn is coming because resurrection is not an allegory. It is God’s final answer to every tomb, every bomb, and every grave.
Today, in the face of rising atrocities, the Christian message of resurrection is restorative justice. It assures that even when marginalised bodies are crushed by systemic violence, they are not forsaken by God, who ultimately vindicates the oppressed.
The message of Easter in the specific context emphasises vindication of the vulnerable—just as the state-sanctioned execution of Christ was overturned by God, the resurrection serves as a “divine no” to violence, lynching, rape, and displacement faced by minorities. It proclaims that those marginalised by the evil confluence of caste, class, ethnicity, and patriarchy possess an inherent dignity that no earthly power can destroy.
A call to prophetic witness—the resurrection empowers the church to be a voice for the voiceless, challenging the calculated silence of authorities in the face of hate speech and targeted attacks. It mandates an active, justice-driven faith—"spirituality of praxis”—that moves beyond rituals to directly oppose discrimination.
The power of nonviolent resistance—drawing on the legacy of leaders like Ambedkar, Martin Luther King, and Rev. V.K. Nuh—theologians interpret the resurrection as a call for “unarmed victory." It encourages a faith that is “hard-pressed on every side, yet not crushed," choosing restraint and prayer over retaliation.
Solidarity in Suffering—the resurrection reminds believers that Christ identifies with their pain. By choosing the path of the cross, Jesus aligns with those humiliated, criminalised, and cast aside. His trial marked by false accusations mirrors the experiences of countless individuals silenced by corrupt systems, such as those wrongfully convicted or oppressed by legal injustices. Jesus’ interaction with the women of Jerusalem highlights the broader realities of unjust systems and warns them about the impending devastation. By addressing the women, Jesus shifts the focus from his suffering to the consequences of ignoring God’s call to justice. The resurrection is not just a future promise but a present reality that demands justice, equality, and the recognition of human dignity for all, regardless of caste or creed.
Together, the cross and resurrection convey a message of active hope, calling every Christ’s follower to work towards a world where justice is pursued with courage and where love rather than domination defines our relationships. The paradox lies in finding life through death—a “dying” to the oppressive systems and a “living” through resurrection.
Alemla Longchar