The Cross: History’s Symbol of Oppression & Hope

Photo by Luke Mollet on Unsplash

The cross should not inspire comfort. It was never designed for that.

Rome used crucifixion to break people — body, mind, and spirit. It was a billboard of domination, a slow death by suffocation and shame, reserved for slaves, rebels, and anyone who dared to challenge the empire. Bodies were nailed up at city gates to remind passers-by who was in charge.

It was so degrading that self-respecting Romans avoided even mentioning the word “cross” in polite conversation.

And not only in ancient Rome. In 2015, ISIS fighters crucified victims in Syria, leaving their bodies on display in the streets. The message was the same as it had been two thousand years earlier: this is what happens when the powerful want to crush the weak.

The cross is history’s symbol of oppression.

So why do millions of people now wear it proudly around their necks?

Rome’s Weapon of Terror

Crucifixion was Rome’s propaganda made flesh. It wasn’t simply about killing. It was about humiliating. Naked bodies, jeering crowds, hours or days of suffering — all staged for maximum psychological impact.

It told the world: the strong define truth, the weak are disposable.

That’s why, to the first-century mind, the Christian claim that a crucified man was Lord of the world was sheer madness. Historian Tom Holland puts it starkly:

“This is why the cross, that ancient implement of torture, remains what it has always been: the fitting symbol of the Christian revolution.” — Tom Holland, Dominion

A Strange Turning Point

Against all odds, the followers of Jesus of Nazareth didn’t bury their shame in silence. They proclaimed it. The very instrument of terror became their banner.

Why? Because they believed something had happened that Rome never intended: Jesus’ crucifixion was not the beginning of God’s story, but the turning point. What looked like defeat was, in fact, victory.

Rome stripped Jesus of dignity; he forgave his executioners. Rome broke his body; God raised him from the dead.

The empire thought it had spoken the last word in blood and wood. But the Word — the one through whom all things were made — spoke back through resurrection.

The Cross After Rome

Once Jesus reframed the cross, it could no longer be used in the same way. Christians began to live as though every person mattered equally before God. They rescued abandoned infants, cared for plague victims, and eventually built the first hospitals. Even the long road toward abolishing slavery drew energy from this belief: that the God who hung on a cross dignified the lowliest of human beings.

What had been a weapon of terror became a wellspring of hope.

Why It Still Matters

The cross is still offensive today, not because it’s violent, but because it redefines strength. Our culture prizes winning, dominance, and visibility. The cross insists that true power is found in self-giving love.

That’s why it endures. That’s why it’s worn not as a warning but as a sign of hope. What the empire used to crush, the Word transformed into a declaration: even in weakness, God’s power wins.

So here’s the question: If the cross really does flip oppression into freedom, what would it mean for us to live by that kind of power today?

I write about the strange, surprising ways faith reshapes our world. If you’d like to know more about why I write, you can visit my About Me page.

© Nathan Cole

Originally published on Medium.