With Good Friday and
Resurrection Sunday this week, I think it is a good time to reflect on what the
cross and the empty grave mean. I am spending time this week focusing on these events
and reading Scripture to direct my contemplation of Christ. There are so many
things to distract us this week from spending time considering the most
significant events to ever take place. What happens in the news this week pales
in comparison to the magnificent news acted out 2,000 years ago.
I need to be reminded regularly of the importance of
Jesus’ death on the cross. He died for my sins, which are numerous. He died so
that this finite being, who was at war with the Creator of the universe, could
be forgiven of that rebellion and called a child of God. It gives me great
pause to consider the cost Christ paid for me. I am so unworthy of His great
mercy.
As I read the Gospel accounts, I am always intrigued that
the writers slow down the narrative during the Passion Week. Think about it.
Much of the three years of ministry prior to the cross is written about with
breakneck speed in a few chapters. But, when the Passion Week is written about,
the narrative slows to a snail’s pace. And so much emphasis is given to the
events of the week. From the triumphal entry, to the meal in the upper room, to
the agony of the cross, the Gospel writers take time to deliberately set the
scene. Should we not also take time to reflect on the scenes and consider their
import? I try, as best as I am able, to set aside time for prayer and
reflection on these events.
When I look at the scene in the upper room, I consider
the words of Jesus. Did he really have me in mind when he said, “Greater love
has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friends. You are
my friends if you do what I command you”? Am I humble like Jesus, who washed
the feet of His disciples? How would I have felt if the Lord of the Universe
bowed down and washed my feet? What must it have felt like to be present in the
room as Judas makes the final decision to betray the one he has followed for
all this time?
I turn to look at the events in the Garden of Gethsemane.
How often am I like those trusted disciples who cannot stay awake for a short
time while Jesus goes to pray? Am I, like those disciples, so oblivious to the
enormity of what is happening near them? Would I be able to recognize as the
weight of the world and the forces of evil become centralized in this one
location? I begin to see the agony that Jesus will soon experience in his
prayer that the wrath of God be taken away from him. I wonder if, knowing what
Jesus knows will soon happen, I would be able or willing to take on such a
burden for my friends or my Lord. I consider the raw emotion that must have
been there when Judas and the guards arrest Jesus, the innocent Lamb of God.
The clandestine, late night trials fill me with despair
and anger at the injustice displayed on that night. I try to hear the mocking
words that are directed at Jesus. And I think about the fact that he would soon
die for some of those who were mocking him. I see the many times I betray Jesus
in the actions of Peter, who fearfully denies knowing or walking with the
Messiah. How many times, and in how many ways, do I too deny allegiance to
Jesus? Yet, he journeyed to the cross and suffered physical death to bring
Peter and me freedom and forgiveness! I hear the scoffing of King Herod. I see
the confusion of Pilate, and sense his conflict with keeping peace in the
region and his position within the Roman Empire.
I hear the loud shouts of the crowd, “Crucify, crucify
him!” If I were in that crowd, would I have said those same words? There is
great injustice in the fact that Barabbas is set free and Jesus is condemned to
die. But, is that not true of me as well? It is a great injustice that I am
absolved of my sin and released from its penalty. When Jesus looked into the
eyes of Barabbas, did he see me? Was there a passing moment in which Jesus let
Barabbas know that he was doing this willingly for Barabbas? For me?
While the narrative slows down at this point, the
following events are also stated simply. Jesus is scourged. He is made to carry
the cross to Golgotha. He is crucified. The words are simple, but the pain
experienced in those simple words is so real. Honestly, I cannot comprehend the
physical, emotional, and spiritual pain that would have taken place in those
events. Can I know what that torture would have felt like? Can I know what it
would feel like for all the force of Evil to be present in that one place in
those hours? Can I grasp what the perfect unity of Father and Son felt like
when it was severed at that time? And then Jesus offers pardon to a thief. I
see myself in that thief, because I have stolen from Jesus the freedom that was
rightfully his.
“Father, forgive them.” Thank you, Jesus. Your words and
action on the cross brings forgiveness to me and all who trust in Christ. “It
is finished.” Silence. And then the earth shakes, the veil is torn, and the
complete focus of all time and history is in this one moment.
Yet, it seems so anticlimactic. He is placed in a tomb
and guards are set before the place of burial. If that were the end, it would
be so hopeless. But, that is not the end. After the silence and emptiness of
the Saturday, the tomb is opened and the slaughtered Lamb is raised to life by
God. It is now truly finished. Death no longer holds the trump card. Evil no
longer claims victory. The path to forgiveness and reconciliation is now available
through the one who is the way, the truth, and the life. The elect need not
fear the second death. The atonement is complete; the forgiveness is complete;
the reconciliation is whole and sweet. Jesus is exalted and lifted high and his
name is glorified.
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