The Saving Work Done on
the Cross (Luke 23:35)
Friday, March 29, 2013
A Good Friday Meditation
Among the themes and actions I find
most uncomfortable in the account of Jesus’ death on the cross is the way
people seemed to take perverse pleasure in what happened to him. His followers either fled or wept or both. They were distraught beyond measure. However, the general populace almost seemed
to enjoy seeing someone debased in the awful way of the Roman cross.
Luke’s telling is less specific than
the other gospel writers. His narrative
implicates all involved in not only the death of Jesus but also the
humiliation. He writes, “They cast lots
to divide his clothing” (end of v.34).
Jesus is bloodied and stripped bare and nailed to a post. And a group of soldiers, as reported by the
other gospel writers, are there at the foot of the cross, callously tossing
dice to see who gets to keep Jesus’ last possession, his only article of
clothing. Luke, unlike Mark, is less
clear about who it is that is casting the lots, gambling as a game right at the
execution site.
The indictment is subtle but unnerving. Are you and I guilty of playing games of
chance right there where Jesus hangs dying on our behalf?
Luke tells us people are watching as
the leaders “scoffed at him. ‘… He saved others. Let him save himself, if he is the Messiah.’” Who
are these leaders? We might presume they
are the Jewish religious leaders who hold a measure of power. We would suppose they are those who persuaded
the Roman governor Pilate to crucify Jesus in the first place. These thoughts are not off base. But Luke is, I think, intentionally open in
his depiction, simply calling them the leaders.
Their premise that the Messiah could
successfully get himself off the cross is completely disingenuous. They moved for his crucifixion precisely
because they were certain he was not the Messiah. They would never except that the real Messiah
would be crucified in the first place.
Their statements were made for no reason other than to rub salt in
Jesus’ wounds.
Luke then does specifically name the
soldiers. “If you are the King of the
Jews, save yourself.” Israel had had
many kings in history who were defeated by invading forces. Once in the hands of the Egyptian or the
Assyrian or Babylonian or Roman, no salvation came. The notion that if Jesus was truly king, he
could save himself similarly was a mocking notion. These Roman centurions believed in power –
the power they possessed as Romans. A
Jewish king was nothing more than an ant to be crushed.
To the gamblers, the scoffers, and
taunting soldiers is the voice of the criminal on one of the crosses alongside
Jesus’ cross. “One of the criminals who
were hanging there kept deriding [Jesus].
‘Are you not the Messiah? Save
yourself and us” (v.39). Of course, this
convict had no thoughts that Jesus was actually the messiah because again, it
was inconceivable to think the Messiah would ever be captured or
crucified. The criminal was dying and
his last word in this world, the tragic end of his failed life, would be to
hurl cheap insults on the pile already heaped upon Jesus who in fact was
innocent.
Over and over, one by one, the
players in the story repeat the mantra.
Let him save himself, if he is the Messiah.
If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself.
Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.
A double irony marks the story. First, all these challenging Jesus to prove
himself by supernaturally removing himself from the cross don’t for a moment
believer he can. They throw out the
challenge as a means of injuring his spirit.
They are completely certain he will die on that cross, be buried, and be
forgotten. They were half right. And half wrong. He was not forgotten. Atheists, scoffers, and skeptics have taken
this same stance for 2000 years. Surely
this humble, peaceful, nonviolent Messiah will go away – eventually.
The second irony is that if Jesus
met their petty barbs by pulling himself off the cross and calling on angels to
wipe out the Romans and establish the rule of God by force and by might, then
he would not have accomplished salvation.
Each would die in sin and remain dead.
I won’t enter the debate of eternal suffering verses ontological
annihilation this evening. I will simply
say that the wage of sin is death (Romans 6:23a). And without Jesus taking the place of
sinners, then death is permanent. If
Jesus had honored his mockers’ request and gotten down off the cross then they
would be permanently cut off from God in their sins and they would die in their
sins, cut off from God forever. The same
would happen to us.
To understand why Jesus remained on
his cross and died in place of sinners – in place of you and me – we turn to
John 3:16-17. “For God so loved the
world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not
perish but may have eternal life. Indeed
God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that
the world might be saved through him.”
For the sake of love of those who
were and are incapable of returning that love and this includes each of us,
Jesus not only died. He endured mounds
of indignity along the way. He, the
perfect example of love and grace, took it all for us, so we could know life
free from sin. We can live without
worrying about our own sins and without suffering the consequences of others’
sins.
He knew even as he went through it
why he was doing it and why it was happening.
At the worst of it, his vision was clear. Flogged and pierced physically and verbally,
he looked to Heaven and said, “Father forgive them for they do not know what
they are doing” (23:34). He had a full
understanding of the ignorance and irony that enveloped the world that
day. His response to the stinging hatred
was to give love that in the moment could not even be received.
Well, one person did receive
it. One person of all present did
understand, just a bit. The other
criminal, not the one who joined the chorus of cruelty, but the one on the
other side spoke up. Defending Jesus, he
said to his fellow, the one who jeered at Jesus, “Do you not fear God? … We
have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our
[crimes]” (Lk. 23:40-41). “But this man
has done nothing wrong.” We don’t know
anything about that criminal on the cross, the one who confessed his guilt
rather than join in the evil piled onto Jesus.
All we know is amidst the noise, he heard Jesus call for
forgiveness. He saw Jesus’
righteousness. And somehow, he could see that Jesus’ end would not be this
cross. He could see that Jesus’ story
would go beyond death.
Because he could see Jesus, he, a
dying, condemned criminal, gained clarity that all around him lacked. The mockers couldn’t see it for their
sin. The grievers couldn’t see it for
their sorrow. But he saw the only thing
he could do was pray. Who do we pray
to? We pray to the one who gained
salvation by dying our place. “Jesus,
remember me, when you come into your Kingdom.”
That’s the final word for Good
Friday. That we can pray that prayer,
that is why this day of death is ultimately good. It is a day of salvation; not the temporal
salvation the mockers held out to taunt Jesus.
It is a day of eternal salvation for all who look to Him and see the Son
of God, God in the flesh, and who in seeing him give their lives to Him in
faith. When we end up where that
criminal is and we know we are dying and knowing it we turn in desperation to
Jesus, then and only then, do we understand that this day is Good because it is
the day of salvation.
AMEN
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