7 Last Words of Jesus: Good Friday Reflections 2020

When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified Him and the criminals, one on the right and the other on the left. But Jesus was saying, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.” And they cast lots, dividing up His garments among themselves. And the people stood by, looking on. And even the rulers were sneering at Him, saying, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if this is the Christ of God, His Chosen One.” The soldiers also mocked Him … (Luke 23:33–36a)

  1. Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing. (Luke 23:34)

This was a word of mercy. You’ve heard it before:  “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.” While high up on a mountain, Moses received The Law (Ten Commandments), engraved on stone tablets by the finger of God, straight from the hand of God. He returned to God’s people below, who were in the process of breaking every one of them. In anger, Moses broke the stone tablets and human beings have been breaking the Ten Commandments ever since. Intentionally or unintentionally, fully aware or ignorant, through sins of commission or sins of omission, we have all sinned. We are all guilty. We need mercy.

Jesus bore the weight of our sins on the cross. Yet, He did not protest, and He did not blame or seek revenge on those who were part of the conspiracy to kill Him by treating Him despicably. Instead, the King of Kings offered mercy from the cross. He offered intercession from the cross. He made an appeal for us all from the cross. Truth and justice met mercy and forged a case for us from the cross. The sinless Son of God purchased our acquittal through His blood from the cross.

There, the One Mediator between God and men, our High Priest, offered a merciful appeal to the Great Judge of the Universe: “Father, forgive them.”

The Gospel proclaims good news. The first words Jesus spoke from the cross offered that good news. Very good news, indeed, to those of us who have spent our lives amidst the shame and blame that results from chipping away at those immovable stone tablets through our thoughts, words, and deeds. 

Mercy. What a beautiful word! The writer of Hebrews reminds us: “Consequently, He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25 ESV)

  1. Today you shall be with Me in Paradise. (Luke 23:43)

One of the criminals who were hanged there was hurling abuse at Him, saying, “Are You not the Christ? Save Yourself and us!” But the other answered, and rebuking him said, “Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he was saying, “Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!” And He said to him, “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39–43)

This was a word of assurance. The first word Jesus spoke from the cross offered mercy leading to hope for the possibility of forgiveness. This second word offered assurance, a confident promise from Jesus, punctuated by the declaration, “Truly I say to you. . ..”

Hung between two thieves, the sinless Savior listened to their banter. A skeptical scoffer and a sincere sympathizer offered their commentary on their shared predicament. All three convicted criminals faced their executioners with an unambiguous certainty that this day would be their last. Most of us do not know the day of our death as these three did. Yet if you could listen in on the conversations of the seven billion people on planet earth, you would discover elements of their conversations taking place today. People judge their fellow human beings using their own measuring stick. And everyone wonders about their own fate. Which day will be my last day? What happens then?

Jesus heard their conversation, and responded to two words spoken by the sympathizer, “Remember me.” Having confessed his own guilt and the guilt of his cohort on the opposite side of the Savior, he did not state his own merit or defense. He simply asked, “Remember me when you come into Your Kingdom.” In so doing, he was both asking for mercy and declaring his alliance with the Son of God and His kingdom.

Jesus listens to a dying person’s prayer from the heart, even if it is only two words, “Remember me.” He listens to sincere people, even those who are not knocking on death’s door. He responds, not in a condemning way, not in a condescending way, not in a complicated way. Jesus responded in an assuring way, so simple that even a child could understand:  “Truly I say to you, today you shall be with Me in Paradise.”

3. Woman, behold, your son! … Behold your mother! (John 19:26, 27)

But standing by the cross of Jesus were His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus then saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing nearby, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” From that hour the disciple took her into his own household. (John 19:25–27)

This was a word of compassionate care. As the eldest son, with at least six other junior siblings (Matthew 13:55-56; Mark 6:3), Jesus was responsible for the care of his mother. We assume Joseph was deceased by now, so from the cross Jesus made provision for the care and safekeeping of His mother. John, the beloved disciple, took Mary into his own home from that moment. Later, at least two of Jesus’ brothers (Jude and James) would become believers. Herod would kill John’s brother James for his faith in  Christ. No one but Jesus knew these things at the time.

So to perform the duty of a responsible son, Jesus made provision for Mary.  From the cross, Jesus reminded us that God cares about our welfare. He is concerned about our families. He is concerned about caring for our needs. That caring concern prompted Peter to later write, “Cast all your anxiety on Him, for He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7 NIV)

4. My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me? (Matthew 27:46)

Now from the sixth hour darkness fell upon all the land until the ninth hour. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” that is, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46–47)

This was a word of suffering. We live in a complex world with perplexing questions. Jesus’ fourth word from the cross cuts across the generations of suffering humanity as life’s most ubiquitous question, “Why?” 

When tragedy strikes, we want answers. We demand answers. We want to know, who, what, where, when and how—all the complex and perplexing details of the tragic circumstances. But even then, once all of those compelling questions are answered, we are left with life’s most perplexing question, “Why?” 

Why the divorce, the death, the disease, the danger, the demons, the delusion, the depression, the disaster? And in the end, “Why me?” It may be a cliché, but how we respond determines whether our circumstances and unanswered questions leave us better or bitter. Bitterness leaves us without hope, without a God who cares. Faith leaves us better, with a caring God who understands our suffering and promises to never abandon us.

During the third hour of darkness as black as midnight at midday, Jesus, in His humanity, cried out for an answer. His question rings across the ages to validate our feelings of abandonment during life’s discouraging episodes. For if Jesus felt abandoned on the cross, He understands our own feelings of abandonment. He understands the times we question the ways of God. He listens without judgment. And in the ensuing darkness and silence He showed us that if we could endure the horror of Friday’s cross, there awaits a glorious resurrection on the dawn of Easter morning.

5. I am thirsty. (John 19:28)

Jesus, knowing that all things had already been accomplished, to fulfill the Scripture, said, “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there; so they put a sponge full of the sour wine upon a branch of hyssop and brought it up to His mouth. (John 19:28–29)

This was a word of obedience. Jesus knew that everything needed for Him to fulfill His role as a suffering Messiah had been accomplished. Yet there was one more thing. One more step. One more word that would show His complete humanity, and His complete obedience to the will of the Father.

Jesus was thirsty. He also knew that His request would never be granted in a way that would satisfy his human thirst, accepted the bitter cup offered. In so doing, He experienced the disappointment we feel as we seek after the things of life to satisfy the inner thirst of our souls. Only Jesus can satisfy your thirsty soul. Only obedience to Jesus can keep our cup full.

6. It is finished! (John 19:30)

Therefore when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And He bowed His head and gave up His spirit. (John 19:30)

This was a word of finality. We sometimes like to have the last word. But God always has the last word. We do well to listen. We are not finished until God says we are finished.

The first recorded words of Jesus in the Bible came from his twelve-year-old tongue. He spoke them in response to His earthly parents’ inquiries after searching desperately for their lost son. Interestingly enough, it involved another “Why?” question:  “Why did you seek Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?” (Luke 12:49 NKJV)

In the ensuing twenty-one years or so, Jesus accomplished His mission, His Father’s business. The Father’s business is the most important business in the world. Once we understand that, we find meaning in life because we can measure it in light of eternity. We discover our own destiny, and accept difficulties along the way because we understand, we accept, and we embrace the concept that we have given God permission to have the final word in our lives.

7. Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit. (Luke 23:46)

It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was obscured; and the veil of the temple was torn in two. And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit.” Having said this, He breathed His last. Now when the centurion saw what had happened, he began praising God, saying, “Certainly this man was innocent.” (Luke 23:44–47)

This was a word of surrender.  Surrender to God’s will defined the life of Christ. He left the splendor of heaven to endure this world of sin so that we could leave this world of sin and enjoy the splendor of heaven. If we have committed our life and our ways to the Lord, then we have assurance.

We have assurance of God’s mercy and forgiveness. We have assurance of eternal life; that we will be with Him in paradise. We have assurance of God’s care and concern. We have assurance that He will never leave us or forsake us, no matter how alone we may feel. We have assurance that even a bitter cup will be made sweet as we trust and obey. We have assurance of our divine destiny. And we have assurance that in the end, God will have the final word as we surrender all to Him.   

©2020 Don Detrick with permission for pastors to edit and use at their discretion. Originally posted on www.dondetrick.com

Good Friday Visualized

Matthew 27:27-61 NIV

An old song asks the question, “Were you there when they crucified my Lord? ”

Of course none of us were there literally, but through the centuries, great artists have produced their interpretations of those tragic events recorded in Scripture. This Good Friday, visualize a bit of the pathos involved in that day when they crucified Our Lord – as you read the words of Scripture:

Then the governor’s soldiers took Jesus into the Praetorium and gathered the whole company of soldiers around him. They stripped him and put a scarlet robe on him, and then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on his head. They put a staff in his right hand. Then they knelt in front of him and mocked him. “Hail, king of the Jews!” they said.

They spit on him, and took the staff and struck him on the head again and again. After they had mocked him, they took off the robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him away to crucify him.

As they were going out, they met a man from Cyrene, named Simon, and they forced him to carry the cross. They came to a place called Golgotha (which means “the place of the skull”). There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. Above his head they placed the written charge against him: THIS IS JESUS, THE KING OF THE JEWS.

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).
When some of those standing there heard this, they said, “He’s calling Elijah.”

Immediately one of them ran and got a sponge. He filled it with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. The rest said, “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to save him.”

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.

At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people.

When the centurion and those with him who were guarding Jesus saw the earthquake and all that had happened, they were terrified, and exclaimed, “Surely he was the Son of God!”

Many women were there, watching from a distance. They had followed Jesus from Galilee to care for his needs. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee’s sons. As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him. Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.

Moments of Mystery – Part 1

Moments of MysteryYou’ve heard it before, “Inquiring minds need to know.”  Does that describe you? Do you collect bits of trivia because you never know when the information gleaned might come in handy, like when you are a contestant on Jeopardy and need to formulate a question to the answer, “The leading cause of toenail fungus in Southern Hemisphere sloths.” Have you developed skills, such as eavesdropping or jumping to conclusions just because you are intrigued by what you don’t know? Do you love a mystery and enjoy speculating about whodunit before that information is fully revealed?

Maybe you are on the other end of the spectrum, and don’t feel a compulsion for speculation.  When others drone on about personal details you did not ask for, you are not embarrassed to say, “TMI, that is more than I want to know about that subject!” You believe that life’s perplexing questions block your path often enough, without intentionally trying to stumble upon more of them.

Most of us probably fall somewhere in between the two extremes, striking a balance between being inquisitive and being contented to mind our own business. Yet there is something to be said about a sense of wonder and mystery. A four year old’s constant barrage of questions about who and what and why and where and when may reach the point of annoyance, but you can’t help admiring their quest for understanding. The world is opening up to them and their mind is beginning to grasp for answers, thus their questions pepper us with pleas for an explanation to all things observed in their environment.

In the age of information, we expect instant answers to every inquiry and problem. Knowledge our parents might have spent hours gleaning from searching card catalogs and library shelves we discover only a click or swipe away. If Google doesn’t know, Bing might, and Siri will be glad to answer, even if she provides nothing more than comic relief. “How far is to Lincoln?” you may ask while driving a Nebraska highway.

“There are four restaurants nearby that serve ling cod,” she replies to your question. Grrr…

To solve a really perplexing puzzle takes time. Gleaning valuable skills and insight requires years of intensive study and practice. You can’t become a board certified brain surgeon by taking a three week online class or watching a couple of YouTube videos. The same is true for any worthwhile pursuit. So why do we sometimes expect our journey with Christ will only lead us on happy trails filled with light and road signs every mile or so explaining our precise location and the exact conditions ahead?

Is it possible that the road of suffering might provide moments of mystery for our benefit? Could those dark shadows from the threatening storm cause us to cling ever closer to Jesus? Might our faith muscles stretch and develop through the twists and turns of an uphill climb when we don’t know exactly what lies around the next bend? Could the mystery of those moments cause us to speak with a little less certainty about our own ability and instead trust more fully in God’s? And is it possible that we are better for those mysterious moments because we can now encourage fellow travelers to keep climbing, keep pursuing, and keep moving forward because we have felt the hand of the Good Shepherd leading us through the darkness of the valley of the shadow of death?

Inquiring minds need to know, yet there are times when no easy answer comes. Ask Jesus. His plea, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” was met with silence on earth. Yet you can be sure it was heard in heaven. He understands the moments of mystery you face. And you don’t have to face them alone.

Resurrection: Signs of Spring

Resurrection - Signs of SpringI saw it this morning, a lone neighborhood rhododendron protesting the stark dormant landscape by unfurling its pink and ivory petals. Against all odds on this dark and rainy day, it victoriously displayed the inevitable triumph of resurrection. Though all outward circumstances indicate winter still maintains its frigid clutch on the landscape, the rebellious rhodie down the street courageously emerged to reveal its delicate beauty, despite the cold. And despite the biting wind and rain, I watched famished bumble bees, laden with pollen, battle one another for the sweet nourishment it offered them following months of impoverished hunger.

As I write this afternoon, another late winter squall fiercely peppers my window with raindrops like bullets from a machine gun. Although the official announcement of spring  is only a few days away, today the coming of spring seems a long way off–except for the memory of this morning’s lone rhododendron. Like a brave sentinel, it boldly maintains its post within enemy territory.First Rhodie lower res large 3-16-13 Petal by petal it unfolds to reveal a spectacle so gloriously un-winter like that I threw caution to the wind and rain, jumping at the chance for a photograph. In the face of possible damage to camera or equipment, I gladly took the risk in exchange for a permanent reminder that winter does not last forever. Knowing the unpredictability of our Pacific Northwest weather, spring may not truly arrive for a couple of months. In the meantime, the photo is a vivid reminder of spring’s inevitability.

Last week another photo opportunity reminded me of the same principle as I captured a shot of a rose bush with emerging leaves next to dead and decaying blossoms from last season, alongside a bright red rose hip (top photo). That rose hip, like the emerging leaves, serves as a reminder of life. For some reason, possibly having something to do with our bumblebee friends, that particular blossom was pollenated. So unlike its dead neighboring blossoms, it has become pregnant with seeds, and grown fatter over the winter months. Unless pruned by the gardener, it will soon open to scatter its seeds, spreading life. Death and life. Winter and spring. We can’t have one without the other.

During this holy season in the weeks leading up to Easter, we are reminded of resurrection hope in the midst of challenging, wintery circumstances. Jesus said, “Because I live, you shall live also” (John 14:19). But before a resurrection, there had to be a death. The sunshine of Palm Sunday gave way to the wintery shadows of the Holy Week. The weather changed when the passionate crowds turned icy in their fickle rejection of the King they had warmly welcomed days earlier. And the entire world seemed captured by winter’s frigid, dark embrace, culminating with the seemingly not good crucifixion on Good Friday.

Can you imagine the questions peppering the minds of Jesus’ followers? They had no familiarity with machine guns or bullets, yet the questions must have relentlessly pounded at the window of their souls. Mary no doubt was reminded of Simeon’s ominous prophecy given years earlier, “a sword will pierce your heart” (Luke 2:35). She wondered, “Why my son? Why now?”

For the disciples, the last three years were re-lived, revealing persistent questions. “Where are the miracles now? Why are we powerless to do something? Why doesn’t God do something?” Where was the glorious revelation of the Heavenly Father, like the voice they heard at Jesus’ transfiguration? Why was His booming voice, “This is my beloved Son,” silent on that day? Why did darkness cover the face of the earth, like the dark questions brooding in their hearts and minds, enveloping their hopes and dreams in disappointment and fear? Why only shadowed silence?

“Why?” always takes precedence as the most persistent of all questions when things go awry. And it persistently remains the most troublesome question. Why did Jesus cry out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Forsaken by God – that seems the conclusion when winter covers the landscape and winter’s chill seems permanent. For the disciples it must have generated even more questions. Had God forsaken them? Is that what they had signed up for, given the last three years of their lives for, to be forsaken by God?

During times of winter questioning, it is best to remember the words spoken in an earlier season. The words of explanation, words of comfort, words of hope, spoken to give us perspective on the days ahead when our gardens are currently overflowing and beauty abounds. To remember, we must listen in the first place. What had Jesus told them earlier that would have explained these tragic circumstances? What has He told you, that might sustain and offer hope during a bleak winter storm? What did you learn in the light that you must remember in the dark?

Virtually every birth comes at a painful price. Whether the birth of a human child, or the birth of a dream, birth pains are part of the deal. So why do we endure it? That question trumps the question of pain and suffering. Why does the rose scatter its seeds in the spring? Why does the gardener plant tender young plants into cold soil on a dark and rainy day? Why did Jesus go to the cross? Because of the hope. The hope of new life, eternal life. The hope of something better. The hope of an entire landscape filled with warmth and beauty. The promise of a bountiful harvest.

Thus Jesus went to the cross. He endured the winter of suffering, so we can enjoy the spring of resurrection. That doesn’t mean we won’t have struggles here, or questions. It does mean we can courageously rise above them, like the rebellious rhododendron down the street. And maybe we can provide sweet sustenance to nurture a famished friend. Signs of spring are all around us. Sometimes you must search for them, or create them yourself, but they are there. Hope springs eternal. And eternal life brings hope. ©2013 Don Detrick