His real cross was sin; our sin laid on His hands, and on His heart, and on His imagination, and on His conscience, till it was all but His very own sin.

Our sin was so fearfully and wonderfully laid upon Christ that He was as good as a sinner Himself under it.

So much so that all the nails and all the spears, all the thirst and all the darkness that His body and His soul could hold were as nothing beside the sin that was laid upon Him.

And so it is with us; with as many of us as are His true disciples.

Our sin is our cross; not our actual transgressions, any more than His; but our inward sinfulness.