In our passage, Jesus has just endured a horrible night. He has been unemotionally betrayed by one disciple and forsaken by all the rest. He has been unjustly arrested and charged. He has been inhumanely tortured and unceasingly mocked. He has been inequitably traded like so much merchandise for a common murderer. Finally, he has been unconscionably condemned to crucifixion. We pick up the story as he is being led out to the place of crucifixion.
Our subject in this sermon is the mercy and forgiveness of God. This account in Luke’s gospel teaches us that Jesus extends mercy to those who are unmerciful. First, we see that…
Exhausted from the night of horrors, Jesus didn’t have sufficient strength to carry his cross. So, “they seized one, Simon of Cyrene who was coming in from the country, and laid on him the cross to carry behind Jesus” (23:26). Luke’s account of the crucifixion revolves around a variety of people - their involvement and response to the crucifixion of Jesus. I suppose that Luke wants us to know that the crucifixion of Jesus was not a private affair: it was not done in a corner. He wants us to know that Jesus’ crucifixion impacted a complete spectrum of humanity – some were there purposefully, some out of curiosity, others by chance.
One who seems to have been there by chance was a man from Cyrene, perhaps coming to Jerusalem for the Passover, who unwittingly crossed paths with Jesus at this crucial moment in Jesus’ life. There was also “a great multitude of people” (23:27) following Jesus. Evidently many of those who had been at the trial now joined the procession to see this to its bitter end. Among them were Galilean women, who wailed and lamented as middle eastern women are wont to do at such events (23:27). And Jesus says to them: “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me but weep for yourselves & your children” (23:28a).
A few years ago, my wife and I were on one of our many visits to the U.K. to see my parents. The area of Britain that I come from is without doubt the most beautiful – and I’m not biased! Near to the place where I was born there is an amphitheater carved into the rocks on a cliff overlooking the ocean. While we were there, we went to see the musical “Evita”. The musical is about the life of first lady of Argentina, Eva Perón. The story follows Evita's early life, rise to power, charity work, and eventual death. The song from the musical that rocketed to the top of the charts was titled, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina.” This song was Eva’s exhortation to the Argentinian people to not mourn her passing. The chorus of the song echoes this sad refrain: “Don't cry for me Argentina; the truth is I never left you. All through my wild days, my mad existence, I kept my promise; don't keep your distance.”
In response to their mourning for him, Jesus seems to be saying to these women, “Don’t cry for me, Galileans, the truth is I’m going to leave you. All through my ministry days, my earthly existence, I made some prophecies, which aren’t too distant.” Jesus is warning them of a horrendous coming judgement when they will cry for the mountains to cover them; a judgement that came in A.D. 70 when Jerusalem was destroyed under the brutal attack of the Roman army. Though Jesus’ future will bring the utmost pain and suffering, nonetheless his future goes beyond that to his resurrection. Whereas, their future will be devastating, especially if they do not respond appropriately to him. “Don’t cry tears for me, ladies of Galilee, but cry for yourselves and your children. For so devastating will be your future that those women who are barren will be glad they never bore children. Don’t cry for me, ladies of Galilee, you need all the time you can to prepare for what’s coming by repenting now. For if wicked men cut down a ‘green tree’ (the One who is life itself and who came to give life), what will God do to them? He will burn them up like so much dry wood” (23:28-31).
What words of merciful forewarning are these that Jesus would think of these people in the midst of all he was passing through. It was pure grace and mercy that Jesus would be concerned about the future of a group of anonymous, unidentified women, even when He was staggering to his own death! It was pure grace and mercy to warn others of their impending danger rather than be consumed with His own demise! They were caught up in the sorrow of his moment, but Jesus was caught up in the reality of their future.
This, brothers and sisters, is the epitome of God’s grace! Jesus’ suffering takes a back seat in his concern for ours. Jesus’ future is for him of secondary importance to ours. Jesus’ life was entirely taken up with manifesting and bestowing the grace of God on sinners like them and like us. How many of us would be able to even think about someone else’s future when we ourselves were being led away to be killed! How many of us would be able to even think about someone else’s future if we had just spent the entire previous night being falsely accused, spat upon, scourged with whips, mocked, ridiculed, and condemned like a common criminal?
These are words of merciful forewarning, words that we are empowered to proclaim today. Oh, we’re not in Jesus’ crucifixion crowd. We’re not watching an innocent man being led to his execution. No! We live in a sterile world where everything is covered with a veneer of respectability. We pride ourselves on having a just society where people’s rights are protected. where innocent people are defended, where our security is guarded by the rule of law, police forces, armies, and early warning systems.
But who is warning people of their spiritual danger? That’s our job – to utter words of mercy in the gospel, warning people of impending judgement and offering people full and free salvation through faith in Jesus Christ – his atoning death and life-giving resurrection. So, in the light of the impending doom of this world, we can and we must utter words of mercy in warning others of their impending danger, a danger that most don’t even know exists - just like these Galilean women. For the sceptics say that everything is going on as it did from the beginning of creation. But they willfully forget that God has judged the world before with a flood and the world that then existed perished. They willfully forget that this world is now reserved for judgement by fire at that great and terrible day of the Lord. With such a future just around the corner, what the world needs more than anything else is words of merciful warning.
In our passage, Jesus speaks words of mercy in forewarning. And…
Along with Jesus there were two other men, “criminals, who were led away to be put to death with him” (23:32). In fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy (53:12), Jesus is numbered here among the transgressors. Unlike the unknown Cyrenian, these men were well known for their criminal activity. They were receiving the due reward of their deeds, but Jesus had done nothing amiss. One of them will later repent while the other will adamantly remain unrepentant.
These two men are a microcosm of the entire world, some of whom repent while others remain in their sins. Some people receive the love of God in Christ. They see their need of forgiveness and mercy. They understand that God’s mercy can only be accessed through the death of Christ. They repent of their sins, they receive salvation, welcoming it and rejoicing in it. Their lives are immediately and eternally changed. They turn from darkness to light, from Satan to God. But others refuse the love of God in Christ. They can’t see their sinfulness and rebellion against God. They are ignorant that they have fallen short of the glory of God. They love the world and all that is in the world and, no matter what, they won’t give it up! That’s the picture of humanity here in these two men.
Finally, they arrive at the place of crucifixion. “And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left” (23:33). In Aramaic this place is called “Golgotha”; in Latin “Calvaria.” It’s called the place of a skull because of its shape, protruding out of the landscape like a skull. It seems that the rulers wanted crucifixion to be blatantly public so that everyone could see and be warned by the punishment meted out to those who opposed them.
Luke simply and without embellishment records the entire crucifixion in four words: “There they crucified him”(23:33). No cheap Hollywood melodramatic sights and sounds - just, “There they crucified him.” And no deep theological extrapolation here either. Luke relies on the bare essentials, the historical facts, for the reader to draw your own conclusions.
It’s poignant that Jesus is crucified between two criminals. Could this be symbolic that Jesus is the bridge from death on one side to life on the other, from unrighteousness on one side to righteousness on the other, from condemnation on one side to forgiveness on the other, from being lost on one side to being saved on the other, from hell on one side to heaven on the other?
Then Jesus speaks again - this time not words of mercy in warning… but words of mercy for forgiveness: “Father, forgive them…” (23:34a). Here Jesus practices exactly what he had preached: to “love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you and pray for those who spitefully use you” (Lk. 6:27-28). No wonder Peter could say of Jesus, that “when he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered he did not threaten, but committed himself to him who judges justly” (1 Pet. 2:24).
Previously in vv. 28-31, Jesus acts in his office of Prophet. Later in v. 43, he will act in his office as King. Here he acts in his office as Priest, interceding for the people. As J.C. Ryle so eloquently puts it: “As soon as the blood of the Great Sacrifice began to flow, the Great High Priest began to intercede” (J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospel, Vol. II: Luke, 467).
Now, Jesus prays, “Father.” In addressing God as Father, Jesus appeals to Him as the Forgiver not as the Judge, the One with whom he has the closest relationship, the One whose heart beats with the Father’s heart. This expresses intimacy, unity of purpose, thought and action. The goal of God the Father and God the Son was that “none should perish but that all should come to repentance” (2 Pet. 3:9). Jesus prays for forgiveness for “them.” Who does this refer to? Who is meant by “them” the religious rulers who falsely accused him perhaps; the Roman authorities who falsely condemned him perhaps; the soldiers who were executing him; the people who were standing by watching; those who hurled insults and mockery at him? Can we not say that he prayed for them all? Were they not all guilty of his crucifixion? Did they not all need forgiveness? Were they not all ignorant of whom they were crucifying?
Yes, Jesus says, “they do not know what they are doing” (23:34). They were ignorant of the fact that they were crucifying their Messiah, the Lord’s Anointed, that they were crucifying the Redeemer, that they were crucifying the One of whom their own prophets had foretold would come to deliver their nation. In fact, the apostle Paul confirms this notion of ignorance, that “none of the rulers of this world understood, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor. 2:8).
This is a prayer for the forgiveness for those who were guilty but who were ignorant of the extent of what they were doing, for they didn’t know who Jesus was. Luke is the only evangel to record this prayer for forgiveness. This accords perfectly with the whole tenor of Luke’s gospel to emphasize the forgiveness of God and to magnify the love of the Saviour for sinners, even his enemies. And doesn’t this prayer capture that focus exactly? Jesus is not occupied with himself – although we could certainly understand it if he had been. Jesus completely renounces his rights and claims and instead directs his whole attention to his crucifiers. To think that the innocent One they were crucifying is concerned about his enemies would be extraordinary. But to think that the innocent One they were crucifying is actually interceding with his Father for their forgiveness is unimaginable. He wants them to be given another chance to repent and by his death to be saved from certain judgement. He is dying for their sins! And interceding for their forgiveness! It’s as though Jesus is saying to his Father, “Give them another chance, Father! They are ignorant of the consequences of their actions! They don’t know who they are crucifying.” What words of grace and mercy! These were life-giving words from a loving Saviour.
Now, we should note that this was a prayer for forgiveness, not an actual forgiveness itself. This was a prayer that they would be given another chance to repent and, thus, to receive forgiveness, for that is the only way to be forgiven. The question is, did God grant Jesus’ prayer, for only God can forgive sins, as the Pharisees well knew (Lk. 5:21). And the answer is “Yes!” God gave them another chance. How do we know that? Because we know that God continued to grant them opportunity to repent in the book of Acts. In Acts 2, at Pentecost, Peter said, “Him you have taken by lawless hands, have crucified, and put to death… Let all the house of Israel know assuredly that God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ” (2:23, 36). To which they cried out, “What shall we do?” (2:37). To which Peter answers, “Repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of sins” (2:38). God answered Jesus’ prayer!
In Acts 3, Peter continues to appeal to them, saying, “I know that you acted in ignorance as did also your rulers. But those things which God foretold by the mouth of all his prophets, that the Christ would suffer, He has thus fulfilled. Repent therefore and be converted so that your sins may be blotted out” (3:17-19). God answered Jesus’ prayer! In fact, God continued to give them another chance to repent for all the years of the apostles’ ministry, confirming what they said with signs and wonders. And as we know, thousands responded and were forgiven; but of course many rejected the opportunity. In addition, we know that God answered Jesus’ prayer because this prayer initiated the day of God’s grace which the world has enjoyed for the last 2000 years. This is the period of time during which God is waiting in sovereign grace for people everywhere to repent and be saved. As a result of this prayer, God is giving all people everywhere another chance to repent! God could have justly and immediately condemned the entire human race, but in response to Jesus’ prayer for forgiveness, he delayed it. He extended the time for people to repent and receive forgiveness of sins. Now, for 2000 years the gospel of God’s grace has been made known far and wide. Because of Jesus’ prayer countless innocent aborted babies are in heaven. Because of Jesus’ prayer countless people have responded in faith to the gospel. They have appealed to God’s mercy and grace in Christ and received forgiveness of sins.
The story is told of one of England’s more famous monarchs, Queen Elizabeth I. One of her favorites at the royal court was the Earl of Essex. One day she gave him a special ring, as a token of her affection, and told him that if he were ever accused of a crime, no matter what, he had only to send her that ring and she would grant him the opportunity to appear before her in person and plead his case. The day came when the earl was accused of high treason. He was found guilty and eventually executed. The queen had waited for him to send her that ring but she had waited in vain. Because the ring never came, she allowed the sentence of death to stand, though it pained her heart. Years later, the Countess of Nottingham lay dying. She was a relative, but no friend, of the long-since-dead Earl of Essex. The countess sent a messenger to the queen: “Would her majesty come? She had a confession to make. She could not die in peace until it was made.” The queen came and stood by the deathbed of the anxious countess. The countess the produced the fateful ring. It appeared that the Earl of Essex had given it to her with the urgent request that she take it straight to the queen but she had failed to do so. Now she begged the queen’s forgiveness. But she had appealed to wrong woman. Queen Elizabeth was livid with rage. She seized the dying countess and shook her until her teeth rattled. “God may forgive you, Madam,” she screamed, “but I never shall.” And with that she stormed out of the room. The countess of Nottingham remained unforgiven (Cited in John Phillips, “Jesus Our Lord,” 187). Thank God that the Lord Jesus Christ is not like that. In grace, he readily forgives those who have sinned against him and spitefully used him if they repent.
Incredibly, despite the enormity of mercy that Jesus has expressed, the people acted as though nothing had happened. There were the soldiers who “divided his garments and cast lots” for them (23:34b). For the soldiers, this was just another day’s work. Getting some of his garments was one of the perks of the job. They divided them up by lottery so that there was no partiality. After all, they didn’t want to get what wasn’t “rightfully” theirs, did they? These were “fair” men, weren’t they, who treated others with respect? Seriously? Can you see the irony of it all? They had just crucified an innocent man! Where was the justice in that? They had just gained from someone else’s loss. Where was the fairness in that? Yet, for these callous men, Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”
So, there were the soldiers. And there were the spectators: “The people who stood looking on” (23:35a) - by-standers, a crowd with no personal involvement except perhaps just curiosity or maybe entertainment. These people are like some people who come to church. Some come out of curiosity or perhaps because someone they know persuaded them to come. They are “watchers” but not participants. They may be curious but not interested.
Then, there were the rulers and soldiers. Those who should have known better; those who could have influenced the outcome of this despicable process; those who should have stood up and done what was right. “The rulers sneered at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One.” And the soldiers also mocked him, coming up & offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” (23:35b-37). What they had done to Jesus was bad enough, but they added insult to injury by jeering at him, scoffing at him.
You see, it all has to do with who Jesus is. “If you are the Messiah, God’s chosen one… if you are the King of the Jews.” This isn’t an “if” of reason but an “if” of doubt. This is an “if” of sarcasm, mockery, contempt, disdain. You can hear the laughter as they jeer at him. No one believes for a moment that they are actually mocking the Son of God. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, they have discredited him long ago as an impostor, a deceiver, a false messiah. They had completely missed the point of his signs and wonders. Where were the people now who had been healed by Jesus? Where were the lepers, the blind, the lame, the paralyzed? Where were the hungry people Jesus had fed? They had completely missed the point of his teachings: “He who hears my word and believes in him who sent me has everlasting life and shall not come into judgement but has passed from death into life”(Jn. 5:24). “For God so loved the world that he gave his one & only Son that whoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life”(Jn. 3:16).
The truth of Jesus’ life and teachings were lost on them. Such is the ignorance and deceit of the sinful heart of man. So they mock him, sneer at him, scoff at him, jeer at him. “Let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!... If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself” (23:35-37). Do you hear the irony in their taunts. Someone has said, “The ultimate irony is that God will actually perform their request in Jesus’ resurrection” (Darrel Bock, The NIV Application Commentary, 595). He does save himself in his resurrection because he is the Messiah, the chosen One, the Redeemer! He does save himself in his resurrection because he is the Messiah, the King, to which the inscription over him ironically but rightly attested, “This is the King of the Jews” (23:38).
Again, let not the irony of this be lost on us. This inscription that had been ordered by Pilate screams out the truth: He is the King! He does reign supreme! He is the Christ of God! They meant it in mockery but God meant it in truth.
These then are “final words of Jesus: words of mercy.” Remember our thesis: Jesus extends mercy to those who are unmerciful. He speaks words of mercy in forewarning of judgement to come; and he speaks words of mercy for the forgiveness of those who were unmerciful toward him. We have seen how those to whom he was so gracious and so merciful responded to him. The question is: “What’s your response to Jesus?”
From Luke’s account of the crucifixion, we learn the importance of our response to Jesus. Luke’s account records the various responses of a variety of people who represent the entirety of humanity. There were those who simply accompanied him; others just watched out of curiosity; some actually crucified him; while others mocked him. But all of them were guilty of rejecting him. Only the centurion eventually came to the right conclusion that Jesus was a righteous man. They had had ample evidence and ample time to receive him. And so have we had ample evidence and time. Yet still so many reject him. We stand in need of God’s mercy and grace in Christ. We stand in need of repenting for our sins and trusting Jesus as Lord and Saviour for the forgiveness of our sins.
Luke’s account also portrays for us the heart of Jesus. In Jesus, God displays his love for a lost human race. And Jesus demonstrates God’s heart as he prays for the forgiveness of those who killed him. Luke’s account records the utter hardness of the human heart in the actions of the rulers and soldiers. They were so blind that they executed the only perfect and sinless man who ever lived. They were so hard that they crucified one who prayed for their forgiveness. They were so depraved that they mocked at an innocent man’s death and suffering. And yet, in response, we hear life-giving words from a loving Savior - words of mercy that are extended even today to those who are unmerciful.
Praise God for reminding us this Easter season of the matchless grace and mercy and forgiveness of God, which alone can be found in Jesus Christ.
Final words can tell you a lot about a person. Winston Churchill, Britain’s optimistic, motivational leader in WWII, who once said to the British troops: “Never, never, never, never give up.” But on his deathbed, reflecting on the condition of the world, this same man’s final words were: “There is no hope.” About one year before he died, Malcom Forbes, the billionaire publisher who had everything the world could offer, was interviewed by Joan Collins who asked him: “You have money, possessions, and fame. If there is one thing you want above all else what would it be?” Forbes wishfully replied: “Everlasting life.” C.H. Spurgeon, the great 19th century preacher on his deathbed said, “My theology has been four very simple words: Jesus died for me.”
These are the final words of three different men. One with final words of despair, another with final words of longing, the last with final words of assurance. Jesus’ first words on the cross were a prayer for others – a prayer for their forgiveness. Jesus’ final words on the cross were a prayer for himself – “…into your hands I commit my spirit.”
The subject of this sermon is “The final words of Jesus on the cross.” What we are going to learn from our study of this text (Luke 23:44-49) is that in his deity, Jesus had complete and sole control over his death.
Notice the setting for this final scene at the cross. God darkened the earth: “It was about the sixth hour and there was darkness was over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was darkened - sun’s light failed, died out” (44-45a). Even the heavens gave miraculous testimony to what was happening below on earth. From noon until 3PM the earth was enveloped in utter darkness. The blackness at Mt. Sinai at the giving of the law is appropriately mirrored here at the giving of the Saviour.
Darkness strikes fear into the human heart, doesn’t it? It instills a sense of gloom, foreboding, wickedness. Such supernatural darkness as this surely indicates that, at the very least, God was acting, and, specifically, that God was acting in judgement. You may explain the darkness by a cloudy day or eclipse, but the truth is that God actually blotted out the sun.
In verse 4 of his poem, “The Maker of the Universe,” F. W. Pitt writes this: “The sky that darkened o’er his head, by him above the earth was spread; The sun that hid from him its face, by his decree was poised in space.”
This is the hour of which Jesus had spoken, “This is your hour and the power of darkness” (Lk. 22:53). The darkness at Calvary could be felt. It was a foreboding darkness. This was a darkness that reflected the absolute evil of the human heart, the absolute evil of Calvary. The physical darkness was a reflection of the spiritual darkness, which had been exhibited at every turn during Jesus’ life. He came to his own and his own did not receive him (Jn. 1:11) – they were spiritually ignorant of who he was. He performed miracles for the benefit of the sick and suffering, but few gave thanks and few confessed who he was. The religious leaders claimed to know the Scriptures, but they didn’t recognize him and they rejected him.
So, God darkened the earth. And then God divided the veil: “The veil of the temple was torn in two” (23:45b). The darkness and the dividing of the veil were miracles. God performs miracle to testify to who he is, to get our attention, and to publicize what he is doing. The crucifixion of the Saviour could not be kept secret. No one can say they didn’t know for it was a public miracle at a public event in a public place. This was the most important event in human history.
The dividing of the temple veil indicates a division in the ages, a dividing point in the history of redemption, an indication that the old was passing away and the new was coming, the day when the religious rituals and the priestly sacrificial system were ending and the day when salvation by grace through faith was dawning. A new spiritual day was about to break into history, a new means of approach to God was coming into view. What was formerly closed is about to be opened. As someone else has said, “Alongside the darkness is the opening up of access to God.” No longer was the way into God’s presence covered by a veil and restricted to the High Priest alone. But from now on, the way into God’s presence was open to all who believe. The only mediator between God and man would now be Jesus Christ himself, the very one who is being crucified. How ironic is that!
The darkness was a sign to the unbelieving world and the divided veil was a sign to the religious world (e.g. the Levites and priests). The darkness symbolizes the depths of gloom but the divided temple veil symbolizes the dawn of a glory.
You see, a division and transition are taking place. The darkness is transitioning to a grand and glorious light. The darkness of Calvary…will be shattered by the brilliance of an empty tomb. The burden of sin will give birth to salvation. Jesus’ separation from God will end in eternal reunion. The despair of death will be dwarfed by the hope of life. The tragedy of crucifixion will be overshadowed by the victory of resurrection. The agony of suffering will turn into the joy of deliverance. The oppression of gloom will be overpowered by imminent glory.
That’s what this setting brings before us. The gloom and darkness of sin and death are about to be radically transformed. And we see the beginning of that transformation in the final words of Jesus, for now we notice that Jesus’ previous cry of abandonment by God has changed to a cry of confidence in God.
a) Jesus is confident in his Father concerning his own deity. Jesus addresses God as “Father” (23:46). The Jews knew what it meant to call God his Father. To address God as “Father” was to claim equality with God. When Jesus said in Jn. 5:17-18, “My Father has been working until now and I have been working…the Jews sought all the more to kill him because he not only broke the Sabbath but also said that God was his Father, making himself equal with God.” To them, Jesus’ claim to equality with God was blasphemy. But Jesus is absolutely confident concerning his own deity. That’s why Jesus could say, “I and my Father are one” (Jn. 10:30) and “He who has seen me has seen the Father” (Jn. 14:9).
To address God as Father means that Jesus is the Son of God. As the Son of God he is the sent One from the Father for “the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world” (1 Jn. 4:14). In coming here to die, the Son was fulfilling the Father’s will. Only the God-man could utter these words in truth. Only He could cry with a loud voice at the moment of greatest weakness. Only He could truly claim and address God as his Father. So, Jesus is confident in his Father concerning his own deity. And…
b) Jesus is confident in his Father concerning his own authority: “… into your hands I commit my spirit” (23:46b). By committing his spirit into the Father’s hands, Jesus is expressing complete confidence in his Father and he is expressing complete authority over his life and death. By saying this, Jesus was trusting his Father for whatever would happen to him from that moment on, for the Father’s safe-keeping of his life. The resurrection of which Jesus had spoken would rest solely in the hands of his Father. This is absolute confidence.
In this confidence, Jesus exercises and expresses complete and sole authority over his death. Notice that He had authority to control the very means and moment of his death. He had authority to control the means of his death. That’s why he could prophesy in Lk. 9:22, “The Son of Man must suffer many things & be rejected by the elders & chief priests & scribes and be killed and be raised the third day.” That’s why Jesus could prophesy in Lk. 18:31-33, “All things that are written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man will be accomplished, for he will be delivered to the Gentiles and will be mocked and insulted and spit upon. They will scourge him and kill Him. And the third day he will rise again.”
Jesus could prophesy these things because he had complete and sole authority over the means of his death. And He had authority to control the moment of his death: “… into your hands I commit my spirit. And having said this he breathed his last” (23:46b). No human can order another person’s spirit to leave him. When the spirit leaves the body that is the moment of death. “This is the moment,” Jesus was saying. “Now is the time – not a moment before or after.” Pilate didn’t choose the moment of Jesus’ death. The centurion didn’t choose the moment of his death. The soldiers who nailed him to the cross didn’t choose the moment of his death. The soldier who pierced his side with a spear did not choose the moment of Jesus’ death.
So, Jesus is confident in his Father concerning his authority over his death. He had authority to control the means and moment of his death. And Jesus had authority to control the initiative and purpose of his death. The initiative was his voluntary choice. He wasn’t compelled to die. He said, “I lay down my life so that I might take it again. No man takes my life from me but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down and I have power to take it again. This commandment I have received from my Father” (Jn. 10:17-18). He died when and how he chose to die. The initiative of his death was his voluntary choice. And the purpose of his death was to do the Father’s will. It was the Father’s will that no one should perish but that all should come to repentance. The purpose of his death, then, was to redeem ruined humanity. The purpose of his death was to reconcile us to God.
So, first we have noticed that Jesus’ final words express his confidence in his Father concerning his deity and authority. Now notice also…
a) He was confident concerning the destiny of his body: “Into your hands I commit my spirit” (23:46b). To put yourself in someone else’s hands is to express confidence. Hands connote security, strength, dependability, as when children jump from a high ledge, confident that their father will catch them and care for them.
Prior to the cross, Jesus said that “The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men” (Matt. 17:22). Those were hands of treachery, untrustworthy hands. Later in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus said to his disciples, “The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners” (Matt. 26:45). And the soldiers who came to arrest him “laid their hands on him and seized him”(Matt. 26:50). Upon releasing Jesus to be crucified, Pilate “washed his hands”(Matt. 27:24), trying to symbolically declare his innocence in the whole sordid matter while all the while having hands stained with innocent blood.
But here, Jesus is confident in his Father’s “hands” concerning the destiny of his body. He is confident that in the words of Ps. 16:8-10 “his soul would not be left in Sheol nor his body see corruption.” What a contrast between the hands that betrayed and crucified him and the Father’s hands - these were loving hands, secure hands, comforting hands. Jesus is confident in the Father’s hands to care for his body while it was in the grave; and to raise his body from the grave.
When Jesus uses the word “commit”, he is saying “I am handing over to you the care and control of everything that happens to me from this moment on. I am entrusting myself entirely to you. I am pledging myself to you, binding myself to you irreversibly.” As Peter says of Jesus, “When he suffered he did not threaten but committed himself to him who judges righteously” (1 Pet. 2:23).
Jesus was making a life-and-death commitment here, that God would raise him again, that God would not abandon him, that he would be reunited with his Father, that death would be swallowed up by life.
The reformer John Hus made a life-and-death commitment. He believed the Scriptures to be the infallible and supreme authority in all matters. He died at the stake for that belief in Constance, Germany, on his forty-second birthday. As he refused a final plea to renounce his faith, Hus's last words were: "What I taught with my lips, I seal with my blood." He was confident in his beliefs and his eternal destiny. Jesus was confident concerning the destiny of his body. And…
b) Jesus was confident concerning the dismissal of his spirit: “Into your hands I commit my spirit” (23:46). Jesus is confident of his authority and control over his death. He is confident that death was not the end, that God would keep safe his spirit, that his spirit would be reunited with his body at resurrection. He is confident that resurrection would follow his death and burial. He is confident that his prophecy in Lk. 9 and Lk. 18:33 would be fulfilled. He is confident that after being scourged and killed, he would “rise again on the third day” (Lk. 18:33). He is confident of where he was going and of what lay ahead - his death, burial, resurrection and ascension and ultimately his return to earth again.
There is a sense of calm, of peace here in what Jesus says. “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” There is no panic, no desperation, no call for deliverance. There is no sense of futility or frustration, no recantation of his prophecies or teachings, no doubts about his claims to deity. Rather, there is this utter sense of calm confidence that, in fact, even at this hour, all was well. The work of redemption had been completed; he had borne the load of our sins - the debt had been paid, the claims of God had been satisfied, he had exhausted God’s punishment in the three hours of darkness. There was nothing more to be done other than to dismiss his spirit.
Previously, in the garden, Jesus had prayed for deliverance as he anticipated the awful work of Calvary: “Father if it be possible, let this cup pass from me” (Lk. 22:42). But now, the darkness is passed, the work is done, the suffering is over, the sin question is dealt with.
Previously, Jesus’ cry of dereliction echoed from the cross: “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?”(Matt. 27:46). The burden of sin, the spiritual darkness of the place, the separation from God were unbearable. But now Jesus is confident in his communion with his Father, confident in the Father’s care and love, confident in his relationship with the Father. And he says, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.”
And thus Jesus died, his final words expressing full confidence in his Father, and his final words expressing full confidence in his future. As Luke so often does, he concludes his account with a variety of responses, responses that are exactly the same as the various responses to the gospel today.
The centurion responded with a bold confession (23:47). He “saw what had happened, he glorified God, saying, ‘Certainly this was a righteous man’” (23:47). He saw the wicked act. He heard Jesus’ gracious words of forgiveness and confidence. Like the criminal on the cross who received forgiveness, this man also saw what had happened and understood the truth. This is Luke’s grand finale to the whole crucifixion event. He ends it with a bold confession: “This was a righteous man.” This centurion testifies to Jesus’ innocence. This affirms the confession of the criminal on the cross, that Jesus had done nothing amiss. His confession was born out of the conviction that he had just witnessed and participated in a wicked act. And in bearing such testimony, the centurion “glorified God”. The centurion responded with a bold confession.
The crowd responded with pricked consciences (23:48). “Seeing what had been done, they smote their breasts.” Their consciences were pricked by what they saw. They saw the darkness and they heard Jesus’ prayer for forgiveness. And in that moment, they realized what had happened. But now it was too late. What utter condemnation of conscience they suffered, so much so that they beat their breasts. Deep remorse and grief struck them. They had heavy hearts because they had stood idly by and watched a grievous injustice.
The onlookers and participants were all alike self-condemned. Conscience, you see, strikes terror into the heart when it condemns you. You can’t have peace of heart if you have a troubled conscience. We need consciences that are informed by the Holy Spirit and cleansed by the blood of Christ (cf. 1 Jn. 3:21; Acts 24:16).
The centurion responded with a bold confession. The crowd responded with pricked consciences. And…
Jesus’ acquaintances responded with distant coldness (23:49). “All his acquaintances and the women who followed Him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.” These “acquaintances” probably refers to Jesus’ disciples. The “women from Galilee” probably refers to those who had accompanied Him from the beginning of his earthly ministry. These were people who knew him intimately. These were people you would have expected to be grief-stricken, horrified at what had happened before their eyes. Instead, all it says is that they “stood at a distance” – remote, unidentified, almost disconnected. Perhaps that’s what they wanted – to be disconnected from what had happened, as though they weren’t part of it. Perhaps they stood there in fear that they would suffer his fate if they were too closely identified with him. They “watched these things” – impersonal, uninvolved, mere observers, detached, without reaction.
The scene we have looked at began with miracles. God darkened the earth and divided the temple veil. Miracles accompanied the death of the Saviour and miracles will accompany his return: “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens” (Heb. 12:26). This is a sign to the world that God sovereignly rules over his creation and can suspend the normal patterns of nature if he so chooses. The scene we have looked at began with miracles and…
The scene we have looked at ended with testimonies. The question Luke is asking is: “Which testimony do you believe?” Is it the testimony of the unremorseful criminal who said, “If you are the Christ, save yourself and us”(Lk. 23:39) with emphasis on “us”. What he wanted from Jesus was to save his own skin. He wasn’t interested in whether Jesus was the Christ or not. All he wanted was the benefit of his power if he was the Christ. Is it the testimony of the repentant criminal: “We receive the due reward of our deeds, but his Man has done nothing wrong” (Lk. 23:41)? Is it the testimony of the cynical rulers who sneered at Jesus or the hardened soldiers who offered him sour wine as a gesture of mock empathy? Is it the testimony of the inscription over the cross, “This is the King of the Jews” (Matt. 27:37)? Or, is it the testimony of the centurion: “Truly this was a righteous man.” What do you think? Which testimony do you believe?
Do you believe that the death of Jesus Christ has swept away the veil of darkness and opened up the light of life; has paid the penalty of sin and made possible our forgiveness and reconciliation to God; has overpowered the gates of hell and opened up the very gate of heaven for those who believe?
From Jesus’ final words, we have learned that in his deity, Jesus had complete and sole control over his death. He laid down his life and He rose again from the dead. He bore the cross so that He could be our Saviour. He dismissed his spirit in full confidence in his Father and the future. The question is: Do you trust Him and what he has done? Do you believe that his death is sufficient to atone for the sins of every human being who ever lived, if you will only trust Him? Do you believe that the One who forgave the thief on the cross can forgive you, that the One who loved his enemies loves you?
Do you trust him? The crowd at his trial and crucifixion didn’t trust him. The soldiers didn’t trust him. The Jewish leaders didn’t trust him. But his death and resurrection has proved them all wrong. It has proved that he is fully trustworthy for Jesus prophesied in Lk. 18:18-34 that he would die and rise again and that’s exactly what he did.
For those of us who do trust Him, what an assurance this gives us today! What a renewed sense of faith and hope this gives us, that the One who died for us has risen and is coming back again; that by trusting Christ as our Saviour and Lord we stand forgiven at the cross. That’s what this song expresses: “This the power of the cross! Son of God—slain for us. What a love! What a cost! We stand forgiven at the cross.”
Charles Templeton was once acclaimed as the Canadian Billy Graham. But, sadly, he gave up Christianity, claiming to be agnostic. A number of years ago he was interviewed on TV. Speaking about Easter, he said that he closes himself in his study, reads the Easter story and he weeps. If the account of Christ’s sufferings and death can have that effect on a man who consciously turned his back on God, what effect does it have on you?
Today we are considering a prayer of Jesus in Matt. 26:36-46, a prayer God did not grant. This is his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus anticipates the burden of the cross. Probably you’ve all had experiences where what you anticipated joyfully ended up sorrowfully. Easter is my favorite time on the Christian calendar. At Christmas we celebrate Jesus’ birth and we anticipate Easter, his death. Yet when Easter comes we realize that what began with heights of joy at Bethlehem ends in depths of sorrow at Calvary. Children often want something so badly but discover sorrowfully that they can’t have it. Sometimes the realization of what we want is vastly different from our anticipation of it.
A young couple my wife and I know well had been joyfully anticipating the birth of their first baby for the previous nine months. It was something they had wanted for a long time. The moment of realization finally, arrived after the long wait, many doctors appointment and check-ups, and finally the pain of childbirth. So, you can imagine their reaction to finding that the baby was seriously handicapped with Down’s Syndrome. What do you say to someone in that situation? How do you, on the one hand, rejoice with them in the fulfillment of their desire and yet, at the same time, help them face the reality that the realization of their desire is vastly different from their anticipation of it?
To some degree, I think, Jesus experienced this dilemma. He wanted more than anything to fulfill God’s plan of redemption and yet the burden of its reality weighed so heavily on him that its fulfillment drove him to seek a way out.
Our subject is “Jesus’ deep sorrow in anticipation of his death.” The scene that we are about to study is intensely personal. As we reflect on this I want you to be sensitive to two things. First, be sensitive to your witness of this scene. We are like spectators intruding into a place that is too holy, too personal, too intimate for us to witness. I feel like an impostor in a place where I ought not to be; like a small boy who has climbed a ladder up the side of a house so that my eyes can just peek over the window ledge and what I see and hear makes me feel like a peeping Tom, peering through a window into someone else’s private world. We are standing at the edge of the darkness and we witness in a very faint, far-off way the story of Christ’s agony and passion. So, be sensitive to your witness of this scene.
Second, be sensitive to your response to this scene today. Surely, your response should be that Jesus’ deep sorrow should radically change you from a passive spectator to an active worshipper.
This scene in the Garden of Gethsemane has been preceded by the jubilant cheers of the crowd on Palm Sunday, but all that clamour has long since faded. It’s been preceded by the intimacy of the Upper Room with twelve disciples, but that precious moment has been shattered by Judas’ defection. It’s been preceded by the foreboding walk to the Mount of Olives during which all the remaining disciples pledged their loyalty to Jesus, not knowing what the consequences of their pledge would entail. IT’s been preceded by Jesus leaving eight disciples at the gate to Gethsemane. Now, from all the crowds who followed him only three remain. Of all the people who welcomed him as king, only three are left. Out of all his disciples, only Jesus’ three closest companions are with him now. These are the three who had been with him when he raised Jairus’ daughter, when he was on the mount of Transfiguration. Yet now even they prove unfaithful.
In this hour he turns to them for comfort. So, you can only imagine how …
The intimacy of the Upper Room is now replaced by the familiarity of the Garden, where Jesus is “sorrowful and deeply distressed” (37b) - distressed over the whole anticipation of Calvary; distressed over the sin question; distressed over being made sin, made a curse; distressed over being punished by God and forsaken; distressed over being betrayed and rejected.
He shares the intimacy of his feelings when he says, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful” (38a), lit. “my soul is the centre of surging sorrows.” This is the sorrow of a righteous sufferer. This is the sorrow of the Psalmist: “All your waves and billows have rolled over me” (42:7). This is the sorrow of Jeremiah: “Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow” (Lam. 1:12). This is a sorrow that is “even to death” (38b). The scale of his grief is so great it felt like it would kill him.
In the midst of his deep sorrow, Jesus appeals to his unfaithful friends with a request. He appeals to them to stay awake with Him in his distress: “Stay here and watch with me” (38c). We expect our friends to be there for us in times of crisis, but these friends ignored his plea. Instead of watching, they slept – a sad reflection on their human weakness. Here is the paradox of the incarnation that the Son of God would want the company of three fishermen, knowing full well that they would not bear up under the strain of that night, that they would all desert him and flee, that the precursor to their desertion was their sleepiness.
But before we sit in judgment on these men, let’s examine our own lives. You’ve probably done just the same as they. I certainly have. Just when Jesus needed you, you left him alone and kept silent. Just when he expected your thanks, you took his blessing for granted. Just when someone needed you to pray with them, you left them comfortless. That’s when Jesus comes into our lives and finds us sleeping - too preoccupied with our own self-interests to pay attention to him.
Nonetheless, look how Jesus responds. He appeals to his unfaithful friends with a request, and he responds to his unfaithful friends with grace. Listen to his gracious rebuke: “Could you not watch with me even for one hour?” (40b). “You said you would drink the cup with me, but all I ask is that you stay awake with me. Is this too much to ask of my closest friends?”
These were the same disciples who had slept on the Mount of Transfiguration. Desperately he needed their companionship now, their encouragement, their intercession in prayer. But after one hour, they are sleeping.
We all understand the need for companionship, especially at times of crisis, for reassurance and comfort. Jesus here is experiencing a depth of loneliness that he had not encountered before. And to make matters worse, his companions are sleeping while he is suffering. But listen to his gracious advice: “Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation” (41a). They needed spiritual alertness and dependence on God to guard them against the temptation of denying Jesus (cf. 31-35). They knew the attitude of the rulers toward him and that he was now practically within their grasp. The temptation to desert him would have been overwhelming and Jesus graciously advises them to pray.
Prayer is the only antidote for human weakness. True disciples sometimes suffer from great weakness which often shows up in times of testing. What we need at a time like that is sustained prayer. Prayer is the only resource to protect us from denying Christ. Maintaining your prayer life is paramount in safeguarding you against temptation. Engaging in active worship of God is vital in protecting you against temptation.
We’ve heard Jesus’ gracious rebuke and his gracious advice. Now, listen to his gracious understanding: “The spirit indeed is willing but the flesh is weak” (41b). Even at a time like this, he graciously says: “I know that you really do want to watch with me, but you’re physically exhausted.” God knows our frame. He remembers that we are dust. In his grace, he knows your limitations and he extends his grace, even in the hour when you let him down.
Jesus’ deep sorrow is intensified by his unfaithful friends. And ...
There is no one with him now – not even Peter, James, or John. Jesus is alone with God and in the weakness of his agony, he wrestles with God in prayer. “He went a little farther” (39a). He took another step in his downward journey from glory to Galilee to Gethsemane. From Capernaum’s wine to Calvary’s wrath. From the Father’s heart of love to the world’s cross of hate. From a virgin’s womb to a borrowed tomb. From a past eternity to the present mystery. From a manger unknown to a garden alone. From cheering crowds to chanting mobs.
Now there is no one with him - not even the three. Jesus is alone with God, before whom he falls on his face. In the intensity of his anguish and in the weakness of his agony he wrestles with God in prayer.
Imagine yourself in this situation. Perhaps it’s your final hour with a son about to go overseas. Perhaps it’s your last moments with your dying spouse. Perhaps it’s one last visit with your aging parent. What do you say? What do you do? Jesus chose to pray. But his prayer went unanswered. His unanswered prayer produces an echo in the darkness. “Father, if it be possible…” (39a). Jesus’ relationship with the Father remains unbroken. And in that trust relationship he seeks to discover the possibility of deliverance. “If” it be possible. “Can’t there be another way to fulfill the plan of redemption? Isn’t there some other remedy without the cross?”
The words pour from a heart that is breaking with sorrow. He begs for a response, for relief, for a way out. But there is no answer, no relief, no way out – only his plea echoing in the darkness. Three years before, Satan had offered him a crown without a cross, a kingdom without a passion. But there was no way out then and there is no way out now. He saw us in our sin when we had no way out, when sin had enslaved us and alienated us from God. That’s why he endured isolation, rejection and death so that we could be reconciled to God, so that we could have a way out.
Where do you go when there’s no way out? Perhaps, you’ve just been betrayed by your best friend. Or, your husband has just left you. Or, you’ve just lost your job and you have bills to pay. These are the times when you go to your Gethsemane and cry: “What is all this about, God? I thought I was living to please you and now this? Can’t you possibly take this away?”
Ken Gire in his delightful book, “Intense Moments with the Saviour,” says this: “Gethsemane is where we go when there’s no place to go but God.” Jacob wrestled with God at the river Jabbok. Jesus wrestled with God at Gethsemane. And you have your place where you wrestle with God. When the chips are down and the burdens of life are bearing down on you, there’s only one place to go – the same place that Jesus went - to God.
Uppermost in Jesus’ mind was the “cup” - “Let this cup pass from Me” (39b). The issue is not whether Jesus should accept the Father’s will. The issue is whether that purpose needs to include the “cup”. What does Jesus mean by the “cup”? This is the cup that the O.T. frequently links not only to suffering and death but more particularly to judgement and retribution. In the O.T. the “cup” was frequently linked with suffering and death and also with God’s wrath (Ps. 11:6; Isa. 51:17, 22; Ps. 60:3), with judgement and retribution (Ps. 75:8; Jer. 15-28). For Jesus, this is the cup of passion that was ahead of him - that horrifying cup of vicarious suffering; that cup of judgement and wrath of God; the mystery of Calvary.
Why did Jesus now seem to shrink back from the cross? Was it the fear of death on a cross? No! He had faced that prospect before and never wavered (Jn. 12:27). Was it pain and suffering? Surely not! Thousands have resolutely endured agonizing suffering, bad as it is. It must be more than that. What was so dreadful? It was the weight of the sin of the world pressing on Him, the burden of our guilt that was imputed to Him, the suffering for sin from centuries past and centuries to come, the terror of the cross - the wrath of God, the abandonment by God, the curse of sin.
“Nevertheless, (he says) not my will but yours be done” (39c). In the first garden, the first human beings said to God: “Not your will but mine be done” and they changed the course of history. Their dreamland became a desert and humanity descended from the perfection of the garden of Eden to the pits of the Garden of Gethsemane. Now, in this garden, Jesus says to God: “Not my will but yours be done” and he changes the course of history. Our corruption is transformed into a kingdom, redeemed human beings can rise from the gutter of Gethsemane to the heights of heaven.
Doing the Father’s will was far more important to Jesus than receiving his own desire. That’s why he says “not my will but yours be done.” The moment drips with intensity as we see the reality of Jesus’ full humanity blended with his full deity. He is never so alone as now, never so weak, so sad, so afraid. And yet he is fully intent on completing salvation history, fully committed to God’s will no matter what the cost.
These are the last moment before his betrayal and arrest and we are allowed to eavesdrop on this most private of moments. Not only does Jesus’ unanswered prayer produce an echo in the darkness, but also Jesus’ unanswered prayer finds a response in the silence. Luke tells us that an angel ministered to him (Lk 22:43), not to save him, not to grant his request, not to take his place, but to enable him to endure it, to strengthen him, physically, mentally, spiritually in that dark hour.
An angel had ministered to him after the temptation in the wilderness. That too was a temptation to by-pass the cross. Satan said: “You don’t have to go through that. You can have it all now.” But Jesus refused that way out then and he refuses it now. The silent answer has come: “No, Jesus! The cup cannot be removed. It is not possible.”
There are some things that cannot be changed. There are deep waters that must be experienced. Perhaps you’re experiencing that right now. Perhaps you need strength like you’ve never needed it before. Remember he gives strength to endure it (1 Cor. 1:13). In those moments, never doubt for a moment that God is still your Father.
Jesus’ deep sorrow is intensified by his unfaithful friends, magnified by his unanswered prayers, and …
Jesus’ unswerving submission comes at a great price. Luke says that Jesus’ “sweat (became) like great drops of blood falling down to the ground” (Lk. 22:44). The anticipation of unswerving submission is so great. It’s as though his very blood broke through the pores of his skin like sweat and dropped to the ground.
Be sure of this one thing: the grace of God is not cheap. Gen. Dwight Eisenhower on D-Day: “There is no victory at bargain prices.” At Gethsemane, there was no great victory without a great price – the price of blood; no great victory without great suffering – the cup of God’s judgement and wrath against sin; no great salvation without great abandonment – “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?”
Why did Jesus endure all of this? Max Lucado in his book, “And the Angels were Silent,” says that Jesus endured all this because “He would rather go to hell for you than go to heaven without you. ”
Jesus’ unswerving submission comes at a great price and Jesus’ unswerving submission concurs with a great purpose. “O my Father, if this cup cannot pass away from me… (42a). Jesus’ relationship with God the Father remains the same but now Jesus recognizes the impossibility of escaping the cup. What has to be done cannot be done any other way. Drinking the cup of God’s wrath and judgement is essential to accomplishing God’s great purpose in redemption. And Jesus’ unswerving submission concurs with that great purpose. What has to be done cannot be done by any other person. An angel doesn’t have enough power to face evil and win. No other man has enough purity to destroy sin’s corruption. So, Jesus says: “Your will be done” (42b). “I concur with the great purpose of redemption. I concur with the drinking of the cup of judgement and wrath. ”
The all-powerful One now resolutely faces the inescapable: “The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Arise let us be going” (45-46). Jesus never lost sight of the great purpose for which he came and he accomplished it in unswerving submission to the Father’s will. The temptation to bypass the cross is submitted to the great purposes of God in redemption.
Gethsemane is the final scene to which the first scene in Bethlehem stands in stark contrast. At Bethlehem, there was no room in the inn, but those with faith believed. At Gethsemane, there was room for him in the garden, but those with faith forsook him. At Bethlehem, the shepherds didn’t know him, but they were awake and went to where he was. At Gethsemane, the disciples knew him intimately, but they were asleep and remained distant from him. At Bethlehem, the darkness of the shepherds’ field was shattered by the Lord’s glory. At Gethsemane, the darkness of the Saviour’s garden was shattered by the soldiers’ lanterns. At Bethlehem, the angels bore good news that the Savior had been born. At Gethsemane, the angel bore silent confirmation that the Savior would die.
Jesus’ sorrow was overwhelming because his friends were unfaithful. In his darkest hour they failed him and abandoned him – seemingly oblivious to his suffering. Without them Jesus wrestled with God and without them he triumphed in that hour.
Everyone must make a choice. Everyone made a choice against Christ back then. Judas chose to betray him. His disciples chose to abandon him. The people chose to turn on him. The religious leaders chose to falsely accuse him. Pilate chose to condemn him. The crowd at the cross chose to mock him.
The question today is: “What is your choice?” Perhaps you’ve heard the gospel many times but never made a decision for Christ. You need to make a choice today. The Bible says, “Now is the accepted time...” (2 Cor. 6:2).
Jesus’ sorrow was overwhelming because his friends were unfaithful. And Jesus’ sorrow was overwhelming because his prayer was unanswered. It was not granted. God said “No.” He met a stonewall – no response. The only response was his own cry from the cross: “My God…” He could have called twelve legions of angels to rescue him (Matt. 26:53), but redemptive history would have come to a halt. As Philip Yancey says: “He could have skipped the personal sacrifice and traded away the messy future of redemption.” But the cross was the reason he came to earth, for as He himself said: “Ought not the Christ to have suffered these things?” (Lk. 24:26).
Jesus’ sorrow was overwhelming because his friends were unfaithful, because his prayer was unanswered. And Jesus’ sorrow was overwhelming because his submission to God’s will was unswerving. He stayed the course. He set his face as a flint to go to Jerusalem.
I don’t know what this scene means to you. I don’t know if, as my thesis stated at the beginning, whether observing Jesus’ deep sorrow has radically changed you today from a passive spectator to an active worshipper, but I hope so. I hope that observing Jesus’ deep sorrow changes you from people who easily condemn others to people who extend grace to those who fail us; from people who are self-sufficient to people who depend on God when our deepest desires don’t turn out the way we would like or expect; from people who exert our wills to people who submit to the will of God, no matter what the cost; from passive spectators to active worshippers. And in response I hope you will say with me: “Hallelujah! What a Saviour.”
Bryant Gumbel once asked Larry King, an interviewer on CNN: “If you could stand before God what one question would you ask him?” Larry King answered: “I would ask if he had a Son.” At Jesus’ baptism the Father testified to who Jesus was: “This is my beloved Son…”(Matt. 3:17). At Jesus’ transfiguration the Father again said: “This is my beloved Son…” (Matt. 17:5). Now at Jesus’ death the Father gives one final testimony to the deity of his beloved Son.
Our subject is: The five testimonies of Calvary. This passage teaches us that God has given ample testimony at Calvary that Jesus Christ is his Son through the testimonies (1) in the heavens, (2) on earth, (3) from under the earth, the conclusion of which is: “This truly was the Son of God.”
The events leading up to this scene at the cross of Jesus are: (1) Jesus’ intercession for his murderers; (2) Jesus’ response to the repentant thief; (3) Jesus’ care for his mother; (4) the mockery of the soldiers (dividing his clothes and casting lots for them); and (5) the scoffing of the passers-by, chief priests, rulers, and robbers - “You who destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God come down from the cross… He saved others; himself he cannot save. If he is the King of Israel, let him now come down from the cross and we will believe him… He trusted in God; let him deliver him now if he will have him, for he said, ‘I am the Son of God’” (Matt. 27:40-44).
Suddenly, God stepped in to testify to his Son through these five miraculous testimonies to Jesus’ deity.
a) Notice the peculiarity of the darkness. This darkness was peculiar in that it extinguished the sun. In the ordinary course of nature, light always banishes darkness - except at Calvary when the darkness overpowered the light. This was not an eclipse of the sun. A solar eclipse cannot take place at the time of a full moon, which it would have been at the Passover. And anyway, an eclipse only lasts a few minutes – this lasted three hours. This was not night-time darkness when the sun disappears over the horizon. This was darkness at midday from the sixth hour until the ninth hour (12 noon until 3PM), when the sun was at its height - a felt darkness that lasted for three hours. The prophet Amos prophesied of such a day: “And it shall come to pass in that day, says the Lord GOD, that I will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day” (Amos 8:9). Amos’ prophecy was specifically about the future misery of the Jewish people but it is a vivid picture of Calvary as the pledge of that coming darkness. This darkness was peculiar in that it extinguished the sun.
And this darkness was peculiar in that it enveloped the whole earth – “over all the land” (27:45b). Even if that was just Judea, it was still remarkable. This was surely an allusion to the darkness of Egypt: “And the LORD said unto Moses, ‘Stretch out your hand toward heaven, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt, even darkness which may be felt’” (Ex. 10:21).
Thirdly, this darkness was peculiar in that it exposed God’s hand. God stretched out his hand and blocked out the sun in testimony to the dreadful scene taking place below. Despite such intervention in the course of nature, nothing went out of rhythm. The very God, who by his word created the sun and all the laws of nature, stepped in and blanketed the land with darkness, so that all might know that the One dying on the centre cross was none other than his beloved Son.
That’s the peculiarity of the darkness. Then, notice...
b) The portrayal of the darkness. The darkness portrayed the suffering of Christ. It was oppressive, reflecting the burden of our sins laid on him. It was gloomy, marking the awfulness of his suffering at the hand of God. It was impenetrable, shutting him off from all witnesses as he alone dealt with God about our sins. His sufferings at the hands of men were exposed to view, but his sufferings at the hand of God were a dark secret, culminating in those final words: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (27:46). As Isaac Watts wrote: “Well might the sun in darkness hide and shut his glories in; when the incarnate Maker died for man, his creature’s sin.”
The darkness portrayed the suffering of Christ. And the darkness portrayed the identity of Christ. The religious leaders said: “Show us a sign from heaven” (Matt. 16:1). That’s exactly what they got – a sign in the heavens. At his birth, the sign in the heavens was the shining of a new star. At his death, the sign in the heavens was the darkening of the sun at midday.
The darkness portrayed the identity of Christ. And the darkness portrayed the isolation of Christ. Jesus was isolated from God in the midday darkness. That’s why he cried: “Why have you forsaken me?”
The darkness portrayed the isolation of Christ. And the darkness portrayed the blackness of sin. “And this is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (Jn. 3:19). Jesus said to the chief priests and officers of the temple and elders, who had come out against him, “This is your hour, and the power of darkness” (Lk. 22:53). We were separated from God by the darkness of our sin, but now in Christ Jesus, God has separated us from our sin by thick darkness as Isa. 44:22 tells us.
The darkness portrayed the blackness of sin. And the darkness portrayed the wrath of God. In the parable of the wedding feast, the King says to the guest without a wedding garment: “Bind him hand and foot, and take him away, and cast him into outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matt. 22:13). Those without Christ will finally be assigned to outer darkness (Jude 13), such is the wrath of God against sin.
This, then, was the testimony of the darkness. Then follows…
“The veil of the temple was torn in two, from the top to the bottom” (27:51a). At the exact moment that Jesus cried out (v. 50), the veil (curtain) of the temple was torn in two. The temple, the successor to the tabernacle, had three areas:
(1) the Outer Court where the congregation of Israel assembled – the place of the brazen altar (the bloody sacrifice) and the brazen laver (the cleansing by blood), symbols of what was needed in order to draw near to God.
(2) the Holy Place where the priests ministered daily - the place of the table of showbread, golden candlestick, and the golden altar of incense, symbols of union and fellowship with God.
(3) The Most Holy Place - the place of the Ark of the Covenant with its golden cover (the mercy seat, the cherubim, and Shekinah cloud), symbols of the throne of God’s presence.
The temple had two veils made of three-coloured, interwoven fabric, hung by golden hooks from four gold pillars. The first veil covered the entrance to the Holy Place. It shut the people out of the Holy Place, confining them to the Outer Court. By means of the brazen altar and laver the people could enter the Outer Court, but no further. The second veil covered the entrance to the Most Holy Place. It shut the priests out of the Most Holy Place, confining them to the Holy Place. Only the High Priest could go into the Most Holy Place, once a year with blood.
There was the testimony of the temple veil. The veil of the temple was a warning to stay away from God. It symbolized obstruction to worship, concealment, secrecy. Access to God’s presence was limited because God was holy and man was sinful. Man’s sin had shut him out from God’s presence. Previously, the sole purpose of the veil was to say to man: “Stay out! I am holy: you are sinful.”
Then God reached out and tore the veil in two so that, now, the torn veil of the temple is a welcome to come near to God. It’s a welcome to come near to God because (a) the debt of sin has been paid. The way to come near to God has been opened because the penalty for sin has been paid, so that we could be pardoned and the barrier to approaching God be removed. The people could now advance into the Most Holy place, along with the priests and the high priest, because the sin question has been dealt with forever. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ was the one sacrifice sufficient for all time - never to be repeated (Heb. 10:12). It’s a welcome to come near to God because (b) access to God’s presence has been opened up for all. Fifteen hundred years of ritual had ended in a moment of time. Suddenly the veil was made useless for its purpose. You could see right through it – torn in two from top to bottom. What had previously been concealed was now opened to view. The secrecy of the Holiest of All was unveiled and all its mysteries were now open to view. At the precise moment when the priests would have been in front of the veil, waiting to go in at the beginning of the evening sacrifice, at that very moment “Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom” (27:50-51a).
Now we have boldness to approach God (Heb. 10:19) through the work of Christ on the cross. Our High Priest has carried his own blood into the very presence of God for us. Now man does not need the intervention of the High Priest, for all are welcome to worship God through Christ. This was the grand moment for which the veil had existed throughout the ages. When the way into the Holiest was opened up what before had said, “Do not enter” now said: “Come near.”
Along with the darkness and the tearing of the temple veil, God testified to the deity of his beloved Son through...
“The earth shook and the rocks were split.” (27:51b). The earthquake testified to the significance of Christ’s death. As violent as the earthquake was it didn’t disturb anything else. It did not move the cross that stood on top of it. It only opened selected graves that were near it (27:52). All of this was an indication that divine intervention was at work. Natural forces did not give rise to this event. The trembling earth gave witness to the earth-shattering significance of Christ’s death, its finality and its triumph.
The earthquake testified to the significance of Christ’s death and the earthquake fulfilled Jesus’ prophecy, when Jesus said, “I tell you that, if these (his followers) should hold their peace, the stones would immediately cry out” (Lk. 19:40). If those who knew him kept silent about who he was the stones would declare his glory. How many followers could have testified to who he was? Jairus? Zacchaeus? Nicodemus? Peter? But they all kept silent and so the stones cried out at Calvary.
The earthquake was Calvary’s answer to Sinai. There had been an earthquake at Sinai; now there was an earthquake at Calvary. The wrath of Sinai was now hushed in the mercy of Calvary. Notice that (a) The earthquake at Sinai declared the wrath and holiness of God. At Sinai, God gave the Law. The law exposed the exceeding sinfulness of man. Sin had existed before the law but the demands of Sinai exposed it, made it appear what it really was. At Sinai, God revealed himself in terrors. There were visible terrors - thunder, lightning, a thick cloud. Jehovah descended in fire and smoke went up “as the smoke of a furnace (and) the whole mountain quaked greatly” (Ex. 19:16-19). And there were audible terrors - a trumpet so loud that all the people trembled. At Sinai, God conveyed his hatred of sin. Through the terrors of sight and sound, the holy God made known to the Israelites the hideousness and terror of sin and so to drive man to God for mercy.
The earthquake at Sinai declared the wrath and holiness of God, but (b) the earthquake at Calvary declared the mercy and grace of God. At Calvary, Christ bore the wrath of God so that we might not have to bear the wrath of Sinai. At Calvary, the demands of Sinai were satisfied. The darkness of Calvary blotted out the darkness of Sinai. The wrath of God at Calvary quenched the fire of wrath at Sinai. The earthquake at Calvary absorbed the thundering and quaking of Sinai. The cry at Calvary tore in pieces the veil of Sinai which barred approach to God. The shout of victory at Calvary drowned out the trumpet of fear at Sinai. The mercy of Calvary appeased the condemnation of Sinai.
Calvary was the answer to, and fulfillment of, Sinai. Sinai was the sinner’s wretchedness and ruin; Calvary is the sinners recovery and salvation. Sinai was God’s voice of warning and condemnation; Calvary is God’s voice of pardon and peace. At Sinai the earth convulsed with pain and terror; at Calvary the earth erupted with joy and victory. Calvary’s mercy and grace is more powerful than Sinai’s vengeance and wrath.
Not only was the earthquake Calvary’s answer to Sinai, but also the earthquake was Calvary’s response to Eden. In Eden sin entered by one man “and thus death passed upon all men for all have sinned” (Rom. 5:12). The result was the curse on creation so that “The whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs until now” (Rom. 8:22).
In Eden sin entered by one man, but at Calvary sin’s penalty was paid by one man and creation rejoiced at Christ’s victory over sin. The earthquake is the sign of this jubilation; that’s why the graves were opened. Death had been conquered and sin atoned for. Now, man could be reconciled to God. Such jubilation is the pledge of the ultimate restoration of all things. Under the reign of Christ, creation will be perfect once again. “The creation itself will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God” (Rom. 8:21). Isaiah prophesied, “The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands” (Isa. 55:12).
That was the testimony of the earthquake. Then there was…
As the earthquake resulted from the shout, so the graves opened as a result of the earthquake – a testimony to the victory of Christ. The opened graves symbolize the final resurrection of the saints. “The graves were opened and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised” (27:52). The opened graves contained the bodies of saints. And since this was not the final resurrection, it only needed “many bodies” (not “all”) to demonstrate the point. This was not the resurrection of 1 Cor. 15, but a resurrection like Lazarus - natural life given to natural bodies.
Jesus resurrection inaugurated the resurrection yet to come. “Now is Christ risen and become the first-fruits of them that slept” (1 Cor 15:20-22). The “saints” mentioned here are all the believers, who have died before Christ’s second coming (Heb. 11:13). Through Jesus, the hope of their resurrection is now realized. The graves that held prisoner the bodies of the dead saints were torn apart. All barriers to the resurrection of the physical bodies were removed. Now the bodies of those who “sleep in Jesus” (1 Thess. 4:14) can receive a body “fashioned like his glorious body” (Phil. 3:21), in that day when “the dead in Christ shall rise first…” (1 Thess. 4:16).
Do you have the certainty of final resurrection with Christ? To have that certainty the Spirit of God must be in you. “If the Spirit of him that raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you” (Rom. 8:11). This is a great comfort to those who are trusting Christ.
So, the opened graves symbolize the final resurrection of the saints. And the opened graves were a public exhibition: “…and coming out the graves after his resurrection, they went into the holy city and appeared to many” (27:53). The graves were open for three days before the bodies were raised. At the moment of Christ’s death the graves were opened but the purpose of the opened graves did not take place until after his resurrection. Three days were ample, public testimony to the dead bodies they contained. As Paul said to Agrippa: “This thing was not done in a corner” (Acts 26:26).
The opened graves were a public exhibition. They were a public exhibition to Christ’s victory over death. In rising from the dead, “he destroyed him who had the power of death, that is, the devil and released those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Heb. 2:14-15). Because Christ had no sin of his own, death had no hold on him, so God raised him from the dead. “Knowing that Christ being raised from the dead dies no more. Death has no more dominion over Him” (Rom. 6:9). The opened graves demonstrated Christ’s victory over death.
Finally, God gave testimony to his Son through...
“So when the centurion and those with him, who were guarding Jesus, saw the earthquake and the things that had happened, they feared greatly, saying, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!’”(27:54). What they saw caused them to fear. God’s intervention in nature caused fear in the soldiers. These men were afraid of nothing - their job was to crucify people. So hard were their hearts that they played games at the foot of the cross by dividing his garments and casting lots for them. But the testimonies to Christ’s deity at the cross caused them to “fear greatly.”
The felt presence of God always causes holy fear. Perhaps the greatest miracle of all that took place that day at Calvary was that the lives of the centurion and his soldiers were forever changed by the One they crucified.
What they saw caused them to fear, and their fear caused them to testify. At 9 AM their work was finished; another day’s work was done. So, “Sitting down they watched him there”(27: 36). But by 3 PM, they owned him as Lord. Pilate, Caiaphas, the scribes, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, Judas, and Peter - they had all denied him. Those who passed by mocked Jesus (27:39-43, 49). But these soldiers, having watched him die, testified: “Truly this was the Son of God.” The term “Son of God” was used in mockery by the Jews (27:40, 43), but these Gentile soldiers used it in reverence and awe.
Remember our thesis for this sermon: God has given ample testimony at Calvary that Jesus Christ is his Son. God has given full, miraculous witness to who Jesus is through these five testimonies at Calvary.
The soldiers responded - what about you? The soldiers recognized the testimony that God gave concerning his Son. They saw the darkness, the earthquake, the opened graves, and the raised bodies. They didn’t try to explain it away or attribute it to natural phenomena. They recognized exactly what God wanted the world to know, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, that “this is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17).
Have you acknowledged the same? Have you had a life-changing experience with Jesus Christ? If you respond by faith today to the testimonies at Calvary, you can see him as clearly as if you were there and you can take refuge under the shelter of his blood. For “the blood of Jesus Christ (God’s) Son cleanses us from all sin”(1 Jn. 1:7).
Don Calhoun worked for $5 per hour at an office supply store in Bloomington, Illinois. He had only ever attended two Chicago Bulls games and now he was going to his third. As he entered the Chicago Stadium, a woman told him that he had been selected to take part in a promotional event during the game called “The Million Dollar Shot”. The Shot came after a time-out in the third quarter. If Calhoun could shoot a basket from the free-throw line at the other end of the court (79 feet away) he would win a million dollars.
Calhoun had played basketball at the Bloomington YMCA but never tried this. As he took the basketball in his hands, he glanced over at the Chicago Bulls bench. He could see that Michael Jordan and the others were pulling for him. Calhoun stepped to the line and let it fly. As soon as the ball left his hands, Phil Jackson (coach of the Bulls) said: “It’s good.” The ball went straight through the basket and the fans went wild. Calhoun rushed into the arms of Michael Jordan while all the Bulls’ players slapped him on the back.
When Calhoun went home that night, he only had $2 in his wallet but for the next 20 years he would receive $50,000 a year. The point is this: Sometimes one action, one decision, one moment can change your life forever. So it is when you choose to receive Christ into your life.
For those of us who know and love him as Saviour and Lord, what’s your testimony to Jesus? Our testimony to Jesus should be the same as the soldiers: “This truly is the Son of God.” Let us not be ashamed to testify to the deity of Jesus Christ.