Galatians 6:14 “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.”

What makes a restaurant like McDonalds, McDonalds? It’s not the ambiance of their dining room, or the quality of their straws or napkins. It’s the taste of their food: the Big Mac, the fries, the chicken nuggets. You see that in their advertising. That’s what their commercials boast about. What makes a luxury car like a Lexus, a Lexus? It’s not the emergency jack in the trunk, or the owner’s manual in the glove compartment. It’s the features of the vehicle itself: the power of the engine, the comfort of the passenger cabin, the styling of the vehicle’s body. That, again, is what their commercials boast about.

What makes the Christian faith the Christian faith? It’s not a superior set of rules to follow or more stimulating and entertaining worship to attend. It is the central message of our faith, the chief thing that distinguishes it from all others: the saving death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is the message of the cross. Other things may be true about Christianity and Christians. But this is their only boast: the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.

That was Paul’s message to the Galatians. Other teachers were leading them to think that Christianity was about something else. Paul’s own faith had been on a different track at one point in his life. As a Pharisee who opposed Jesus and persecuted his people, he was building a religious career that promised him prestige, power, and plenty of money. Now he had discovered the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. That other world had been crucified to him.

There are many forms “the world” can take in our own lives. Many are hard to recognize. We, too, can pervert religion from being God’s means to save us, and a sincere matter of faith, to become a way to give me what I want here and now. We can turn church into an entertainment venue. That’s worldly, not spiritual. It is a wonderful thing for friends to invite friends to church to introduce them to Jesus. It is a worldly thing to choose a house of worship for the chance to be popular with certain people, because it makes me look good, because it means I will be accepted by my peers, or because it puts me in contact with potential customers for my business. There is not a single-minded focus on the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ in that. It is kind of worldliness, a sinful focus on tickling my fancies.

Now, Paul says, due to the cross of Christ, that world has been crucified to me. It hasn’t just been demoted to give up part of the time and attention it used to demand. The world and I did not merely come to a mutual recognition that this relationship wasn’t working out very well, and so we politely broke up and went our different ways. The world has been crucified to me. It met a violent, painful death by execution. It is the evil criminal in my life that had to die before it took my life instead.

The irony is that the world is crucified to me by means of another crucifixion, the one that makes me boast. That is a striking concept. The cross was an instrument of shame and humiliation. It is not something one would boast about. No one wants a relationship with a criminal, especially one on death row. It’s an embarrassment. It’s the kind of thing that families keep secrets about.

But this criminal and this cross are my pride and joy, because the crimes for which he dies are mine. The cross of our Lord Jesus Christ is the only thing that has real value because it is the only thing that can free me from the penalty for my sins. Wonder of all wonders, the cross, an instrument of death, does what I could never do: it removes all sin from my record, reconciles me to God in heaven, and gives me a life that will last forever and ever.

That’s our only boast. And what that cross has done for me crucifies the world to me.