INTO YOUR HANDS, 

I COMMIT MY SPIRIT. 


Over the last six weeks, we’ve dug into Jesus’ final phrases from the cross. This week we will look at the seventh and last phrase of Jesus. Take your time. Picture it. Feel it. Place yourself there. 


Luke writes: It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last.


The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.”  When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. But all those who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things. (23:44-48)


I won’t spend a lot of time here, because I want to focus on Jesus’ words; however, important things happened in these moments that I don't want to skip over. The torn temple curtain has huge implications for humankind. God was communicating to all people that a human mediator is no longer needed. We have direct access to God, through Christ who is our atonement, and are welcomed into God’s presence with open arms. The centurion and the crowd perceived something significant had happened, although they couldn’t have fully grasped its implications. 


Luke wrote that those who knew and loved Jesus, stood at a distance, watching. Having lost significant people in my own life, I understand the actions of those who loved him. We linger with the bodies of our loved ones after their spirits have departed. We linger with friends who share our grief, and we linger with family. Sometimes we remain together in silence. Sometimes we recall memories and tell stories. We hug, we cry, we laugh, and we comfort one another. If our loved one suffered, we acknowledge they are no longer in pain. With my own dad, who had faithfully served Jesus for 75 of his almost 94 years, I knew I was ready to release him (for his own sake), but would never be ready to “lose” him. We linger. We know their spirit is no longer in their physical body, but walking away for the last time is hard. I imagine Jesus’ death was very hard for those who loved him and had given up everything to follow him, and for his mother– I can’t even imagine. However, Jesus was ready. He had completed all he came to accomplish in human form, then committed his spirit to the Father and breathed his last breath. 


What is the spirit? What was Jesus committing to the Father? I imagine most of us have pondered this question. We know we are made up of body, mind, and spirit, but what does the spirit part mean? 


The word “spirit” that Luke wrote when transcribing Jesus’ words, is the Greek word ‘pneuma’ and the Hebrew word ‘ruach’, both meaning “wind or breath”, so Jesus committed his breath into his Father’s hands. In Strong’s Concordance of Biblical Words, we learn that pneuma or ruach is the vital principle that animates the body; it is the power by which the human feels, thinks, and decides; it is “possessed of the power of knowing, desiring, deciding, and acting”, and it doesn’t contain physical matter. (Strongs G4151). We know God is Spirit made known to us by the Holy Spirit (Ruach HaKodesh), and the Holy Spirit is how God inhabits us through Christ. We are truly inhabited by God’s holy breath. Isn’t that beautiful? By faith, we know these things to be true, but can any of us explain it?  


From the Bible’s account of creation, we know God created Adam’s form and then God breathed God’s own breath, the breath of life, into Adam. (Genesis 2:7) In this instance, the Hebrew word “breath” is “neshama”. (Strong’s H5397)  Pneuma/ruach and neshama are different kinds of breath. All are from God, but one keeps our physical body alive (neshama) while the other breath is the part of us that doesn’t die (ruach or pneuma). Job 33:4 helps clear up the distinction. “The Spirit (ruach) of God has made me, and the breath (neshama) of the Almighty gives me life. 


When Jesus commits his spirit (ruach) to the Father on the cross, he is releasing the eternal part of himself to God as his physical body dies. Not surprisingly, in this moment he is quoting Psalm 31:5 which says, “Into your hands I commit my spirit; deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.” Jesus knew his Father was with him, was listening, and would deliver him and receive him, and God did. 


There are many things about the Trinity we’ll never fully understand, and we’ll certainly never be able to grasp how Jesus could be fully human and fully God, but we believe it by faith. Do we also believe, by faith, that the same Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead lives in us? (Romans 8:11) Do we believe, by faith, that the Holy Spirit within us is the Spirit of Christ? (Romans 8:9)  Do we believe, by faith, what Jesus said to his disciples, and us, when he said, I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you? (John 14:19b) Do we believe Jesus' words when he says “Whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these because I am going to the Father? (John 14: 12) Do we believe, by faith, that  “to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good” meaning we all have spiritual gifts? (1 Cor. 12) Do we understand we can either be filled with or quench the Holy Spirit? (Ephesians 5:18; 1 Thessalonians 5:19). Do we know we can ask for more of the Holy Spirit? (Luke 11:13)  Do we understand the breath of our physical being (neshama), and the breath of our spiritual being (ruach) can be committed to God’s Holy Breath every moment by faith? 


In his sermon, Pastor John brought up what was said about the faith of Noah, Abraham, and Sarah in Hebrews 11. The whole chapter recounts many people who acted in faith despite the fact they were asked to do things that didn’t make sense, didn’t have a lot of detail, weren’t convenient, couldn’t be explained easily to others, and cost some of them their lives. For faith to be faith, action is involved. Many of those mentioned in Hebrews 11 lived during Old Testament times. In the Old Testament, people had not yet received the gift of the indwelling Holy Spirit, but the Spirit (the Holy Breath) was actively at work and communicating with specific people. Each of those mentioned in Hebrews 11, “committed” their spiritual and physical breath to God. They followed God’s Holy Breath, acted in faith, and went wherever the Holy Spirit took them. 


I asked Jesus to be my savior when I was 9. My dad was my pastor and he had a phrase he commonly used when someone committed their life (spiritually and physically) to Christ. So on that day, he said to the congregation, “Luanne is giving as much of herself as she can to as much of Jesus as she understands.” And, truly, on that day, I committed as much of myself as I could to as much of Jesus as I understood at the age of 9. I was born again, and the Holy Spirit, the Holy Breath of God, gave me new life.  


A couple of years later my physical life got hard, which led to some self-destructive tendencies for about a decade, but even in that season, I had moments when I would commit as much of myself as I could to as much of Jesus as I understood, and the Holy Spirit always met me there. That’s been an ongoing theme. 


When John and I felt God asking us to serve him in another country, he spoke to us separately during the same worship service (which we learned on our way to lunch). When faced with options from all over the world, we both felt drawn to the same one without any prior discussion. When we moved to Brazil with three young children (ages 2,4, and 6), without having ever been to that country before, people questioned our sanity. Our first night in Brazil, I questioned our sanity. I panicked and thought “What have we done??!!!” We had committed ourselves, our physical lives and breath, to the Holy Breath of God. I would not trade that decade for anything. We gave as much of ourselves as we could to as much of Jesus as we understood. We are forever changed as a result. We witnessed, and were part of, moments we can’t explain. There were tough moments, and there were moments where God did the inexplicable. We got to be part of it, and they were incredible years. 


When we followed God's Spirit to Wyoming from Brazil, having never been there before, with children who were 12, 14, and 16, we were again following the Breath of God and committing our lives and spirits to God. Wyoming was tough. Winters are brutal and culture shock was real. Our kids struggled. We struggled. But God did beautiful things while we were there…  and my job at the high school with marginalized kids– I have no words for some of the things God did during that time. I had to commit my spirit every day, sometimes moment by moment– some days I blew it, but the Holy Spirit was always at work and the invitation to commit my spirit to God’s Spirit was, and is, always open. 


And when God moved us to Indiana, we both knew, by the Holy Spirit of God, that we would follow God’s Holy Breath, and commit our spirits to this new chapter. We’re deeply grateful to be doing this together with you.


Today, I have a pretty organic relationship with the Lord. We’ve walked together for a long time. I understand more about him than I did, and will strive to continually understand more as I seek to commit as much of myself as I can, to as much of Jesus as I understand. 


My prayer for all of us is that we commit our life’s breath to God’s Breath in God’s beautiful work of transforming lives through the power of the Holy Spirit. God has breathed life into us both physically and spiritually. Will we commit as much of ourselves as we can to as much of Jesus as we understand? Can we say, with Jesus, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit, and then really do it? By faith, and through God’s Spirit, we can. 


FATHER, FORGIVE THEM


Before we begin this Lenten journey together, I want to give you a tip for approaching these blogs. The way I practice my faith and interpret scripture is heavily influenced by my dad, a deeply spiritual man who drank from a deep well. He had doctorates in theology and philosophy and raised us to be curious and to be ponderers. So, as I write, I come as a ponderer and a seeker. I am open to whatever the Spirit wants to reveal. I love theology, I love seeking deeper meaning, and I love reading authors who come to the scripture with different lenses than mine. I want to know God as fully as I can on this side of the veil. As you read my thoughts, know that I am processing and asking for fresh revelation. I am pondering. Hopefully, through these words, you will ponder too.


Pastor John’s Lenten series takes us into the last seven phrases Jesus uttered on the cross. Truly, it’s remarkable he was able to utter anything at all. Each phrase exhaled by our dying Savior is a precious gift. The first spoken phrase was “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34).  Let that sink in. Picture what was happening when Jesus said those words. Father, forgive them for they…  


Pastor John led us through the 15 or so hours leading up to this utterance. The thems and theys could have been many: Judas, Peter, the disciples who fled, the religious leaders, the conspirators, Pilate, Herod, the soldiers, the crowd who chose Barabbas over Jesus and said “We have no king but Caesar”. It could have included the ceremonial mourners to whom Jesus spoke on his way to the cross, saying, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. You should be weeping for yourselves and your children…. For if this is what they do to the living Branch, what will they do with the dead ones?” (23: 28, 31 TPT). That’s a strong word. 


Jesus could have been referring to those who hammered the nails into his body, the mockers who mercilessly taunted him as he hung there, or the onlookers who watched him die, whether for entertainment or from the horror of it all. Many people played a role in those last hours, and none of them knew fully what they were doing. Jesus knew that. Jesus wanted them forgiven, and he wanted them to hear that phrase.  I think he wants us to hear that phrase too. What do you think? Were we included in Jesus' “thems” and “theys” referred to on that specific day? Let’s ponder that. 


Even before Jesus established the new covenant in his blood, the Old Testament prophets show us God was already in the business of mass forgiveness. 


Isaiah, transcribing what he heard from the Lord, wrote: "I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more” (43:25).  That’s interesting. God covers our transgressions for his own sake. Could it be that God’s desire for fellowship with us compels him to forgive even what we think is unforgivable for the sake of having a relationship with us? 


Isaiah also transcribed, “I have swept away your offenses like a cloud, your sins like the morning mist. Return to me, for I have redeemed you” (44:22). Notice the order. God already redeemed them before they returned. Hmmm.


Jeremiah revealed God’s words by writing, “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more” (31:34). God is not holding a grudge. He chooses to forgive. He chooses not to remember. 


When we lived in Wyoming, on nice days, I walked to and from work. As I walked, I would chat with God. One particular day, I was pondering the word remember and had the revelation that the opposite of remember isn’t forget. It’s dismember. So, when God chooses not to remember our sins, they are dismembered from us. They are no longer connected to us. They’re gone. We may struggle to dismember them from ourselves, but God has removed them. Psalm 103:12 states, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” They are dismembered. Let’s not hold onto dismembered things. God doesn’t.


All those verses are from the Old Testament. That’s before the crucifixion. That’s before Jesus shed his blood. Was God dismembering sins outside the confines of time because in eternity we were already forgiven? Was Jesus’ sacrifice already counted on our behalf? I have no idea. I do know that Jesus was slain from the foundation of the world (Rev. 13:8). I don’t know how it works, but it’s interesting to think about. 


These excerpts from Hebrews 9 offer more thoughts to ponder.  As the author wrote about the heavenly tabernacle, it was said of Jesus, “... he entered the Most Holy Place once for all by his own blood, thus obtaining eternal redemption… Christ is the mediator of a new covenant…he has died as a ransom to set them free from the sins committed under the first covenant,... he has appeared once for all at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of himself.” (vs.12,15, 26 NIV)


That seems outside of time to me. It includes forgiveness for those under the old covenant who committed sins before Christ was born and to whom the prophets said, God has forgiven you. Jesus fulfilled the old covenant. It’s no longer valid, but the new one is eternal. At the last supper, Jesus departed from the normal, hundreds-of-years-old Passover script and said, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you” (Luke 22:20). A new age, a new way of relating with God has arrived. Our reconciliation through his blood was changing everything for all time.  With that in mind,  I believe it’s quite possible Jesus’ forgiveness prayer on the cross was not only meant for those participating that day but is an eternal prayer covering all time and all people. 


“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We bumble and blunder along the way. Sometimes we’re law-based, sometimes we’re grace-based. Sometimes we get it right. Sometimes, we blow it. Sometimes, we forget that Jesus' blood was not just about personal salvation but also about serving God. Hebrews 9:14 tells us, “How much more, then, will the blood of Christ… cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death so that we may serve the living God! (NIV). Our consciences are cleansed because our sins are dismembered. They are no longer attached to us. Jesus' death was never meant to be about “God and me”. It was always intended to begin a movement that embodies the message  “...this is how much God loved the world. He gave his one and only unique Son as a gift. So now, everyone who believes in him will never perish but experience everlasting life. God did not send his Son into the world to judge and condemn the world, but to be its Savior and rescue it. (Jn. 3:16-17 TPT). The gift is for all, and we who have already received the gift get the awesome joy of sharing with others that they are forgiven and dearly loved. We can live a full, rich life right here, right now, because we are unconditionally loved. Yes, eternal life is about heaven, but it’s also about earth. 


Remember for a moment the youngest prodigal son. He was already forgiven and dearly loved before he ever went home. He just didn’t know it yet. His sins were already dismembered from him in the eyes of his father, as are ours. That kind of forgiveness sets us free to love God - heart, soul, mind, and strength - and to love our neighbor as ourselves.


One final thought. After my “remember/dismember” revelation, I began to pray differently. I began praying from a place of gratitude that I was forgiven rather than a place of shame because I needed forgiveness. That little tweak changed everything. We do not have to beg God to forgive us. It’s already happened. We don’t have to come to God in shame. God is not shaming us. Yes, we do need to admit we missed the mark, but then thank God that the sin is already removed from us. That weight is not ours to bear. Our conscience is cleansed. Thanksgiving prayers rather than shame-based prayers help us embrace how deeply loved we are. God forgives us for God’s sake because we are loved that much. God wants us to live in freedom, not in shame. We are loved. We are them. We are they. We are forgiven.  


TRULY, I TELL YOU, TODAY YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE.

This week, we looked at the second utterance of Jesus from the cross. Again, it is remarkable that he is uttering anything at all. He had already endured a horrific beating. He had thorns pressed into his head. He was held to a cross by spikes hammered through flesh, ligaments, muscles, nerves, and bones. Not only was he severely wounded, the weight of his own body was suffocating him. It’s not pleasant to think about, yet it’s important to get ourselves out of familiar Christian lingo (Jesus died on the cross) and ponder the reality of what he endured. When we take a few moments to squirm as we think about it, we can marvel at the message he conveyed in his last “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” moments. He intentionally spoke aloud. We are wise to pay attention to what he said.


Last week we looked at Jesus’ desire for humankind to be forgiven. This week, we look at the words he spoke to one of the convicted criminals hanging next to him and ponder what those words might mean for us. 


Let’s place ourselves in the scene. Luke 23:32 tells us, “Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be executed”. Three men are being led out, most likely by Roman soldiers, to be executed. There’s a crowd. It’s a public spectacle. This is Roman might, Roman arrogance,  and Roman cruelty on display. These three condemned men are that day’s example of what happens to those who don’t live according to the principles of the Roman empire or who tick off the wrong people. After large metal nails are hammered into their bodies, their crosses are raised, and they are suspended like that until they finally die, could be hours, could be days. Jesus watches as his clothes are gambled over. He listens to mockers. Luke describes the scene like this: “The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.”  The soldiers said, “If you are the king of the Jews, save yourself.”  One of the criminals hanging next to him said, “Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” (Lk. 23: 35, 37, 39). I find it interesting that the Roman soldiers don’t deny Jesus saved others, whatever that meant to them. They merely want further proof he’s the Chosen One. Pastor John pointed out that all three of these phrases have to do with Jesus saving himself. Save yourself. Save yourself. And then… save yourself and us. 


Save yourself and us. That criminal’s phrase causes me to wonder if he really wanted Jesus - who many in the region knew as the man who healed people, who had raised people from the dead, who hung out with and embraced the outcasts, and who hung next to him - could he pull off a big miracle at this moment? Was there both derision and secret hope in his mocking? These are the kinds of things I ponder.


The second criminal rebuked the first. The NIV translates his words this way: “Don’t you fear God…since you are under the same sentence?  We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” (23: 40, 41)  He begins his rebuke with the words “Don’t you fear God?”  Is he saying, “We’re under a death sentence we deserve, but why are you trying to make God mad right now? It’s not the time for that. We deserve this, but don’t make God even madder by being mean to the innocent man.” I wish we knew more about this man’s story because not only does he rebuke the other criminal and defend Jesus’ honor,  it’s also safe to assume he knew Jesus was special. He knew Jesus’ name. He knew Jesus was innocent. He knew Jesus was a king. He may not have understood all of it, but he was familiar enough to understand there was a kingdom attached to Jesus because he says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (vs. 42).  Jesus. Remember me. 


Last week, I wrote about my “chatting with God revelation” that the opposite of remember is dismember. If dismember means disconnected from, does remember mean connected to? Could the second criminal have been saying, Jesus, connect me to you. I want to be with you, connected to you, in your kingdom. 


Colossians 1:15 tells us Jesus is the perfect image of the invisible God. When we see Jesus, we see God. I personally believe that God’s becoming flesh, living among us, teaching us, loving us, modeling for us how to love others, dying, living again, and conquering the power of death was all about remembering– connecting to us after sin had disconnected us. Honestly, he did for us what the first criminal asked…he saved us. The prophet Isaiah wrote: “Listen! The Lord’s arm is not too weak to save you, nor is his ear too deaf to hear you call. It’s your sins that have cut you off from God” (59: 1-2a NLT). Sin dismembered us. Jesus re-membered us. Jesus, whose arm is not too weak to save, nor his ear too deaf to hear, responds to criminal number 2 and says: “Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (v 43). Truly, you will be re-membered. You will be remembered. 


Truly. Do you know what the Hebrew word for “truly” is? It’s amen. Amen. A simple word that has two different meanings. At the beginning of a phrase it means “of a truth, truly, verily”. At the end of a phrase it means “so it is”, “so be it”. (Strong’s Concordance G281).  Remarkably, this very common and familiar word was kept intact through centuries beginning with Hebrew, then Greek, then Latin, and then many other languages, including  English. The Blue Letter Bible’s notes state: “The word is directly related to–in fact almost identical— to the Hebrew word for ‘believe' (aman)...an expression of absolute trust and confidence”. Jesus' choice to use the word “truly” at the beginning of his phrase was intentional. He was saying, it’s true. Believe me. It will be so today. You will be with me in paradise today. Believe it. Paradise meant a lot of different things in Jesus’ day, but my favorite of Strong’s Concordance’s possibilities is Eden. The first Eden was the place dis-membering first happened. Could that criminal, a valued and loved image-bearer, have met Jesus on the other side of the veil in a perfectly restored and re-membered Eden? What a beautiful thought to ponder. 


One final thought to explore before I bring this blog to a close: Jesus promised the man on the cross next to him, “You will be with me”. Nothing was required of the man. He simply asked Jesus to remember him, and Jesus said yes. It was that simple. Is it that simple for us? Yes.


Less than 24 hours before this exchange on the cross, Jesus and his disciples were together for the annual Passover meal. During that meal, Jesus asked them to remember him and  the new covenant established in his blood when they celebrated future Passovers. “Do this in remembrance of me” (Lk. 22:19). He wanted them to connect themselves again to the fact that the Old Covenant, the law and prophets were fulfilled through him, and the New Covenant of grace, of new-life, of total forgiveness, was now and forever in place. That’s for us remember too. He  told them the Father was going to send them an advocate, the Holy Spirit,  who would never leave them, who would be in them and with them (John 14: 16-17). A few verses later, he said, “When I am raised to life again, you will know that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you” (vs 20, NLT). We don’t have to wait for the afterlife to be with Jesus. We are with Jesus now, and Jesus is with us and in us. He’s done all the work. He’s provided the way. He’s said yes. We just need to re-member/connect ourselves to the One who’s re-membered/connected himself to us. Then we can spend our days as branches of the life-giving vine inviting others to be re-membered too. 


The forgiving nature of God, the restorative nature of God, the remembering, reconnecting nature of God, the always and everyone unconditionally loving nature of God, the “withness” of God runs throughout scripture. Today, we are with Jesus, and Jesus is with us. Today. Right now. We are remembered. Amen. 



What a gift. Re-member.




WOMAN, BEHOLD YOUR SON. BEHOLD YOUR MOTHER.

 “Woman, behold your son, and to the disciple, behold your mother.” Of all the things Jesus uttered on the cross, these words touch me deeply. I find this moment heartbreakingly poignant. As I ponder it, I place myself in the scene and encourage you to do the same. What do you see? I wonder what expression was on Jesus’ face as he gave his mother to John and gave John to his mother. Did he have tears running down his cheeks? Was his look one of warmth or of agony? Was his voice calm or riddled with emotion? Was their pain almost too much for him to bear? Let your imagination take you there. What was this moment like for Jesus?  


What was this moment like for Mary? As a mother, I can’t begin to fathom what she was experiencing. What was going through her mind? Was she thinking about the moment the angel visited her and told her she would give birth to the Messiah? Was she remembering what she proclaimed to Elizabeth– that through this Spirit conceived child, God would scatter the proud, bring down the powerful from their thrones, lift up the lowly, fill the hungry with good things, send the rich away empty, and fulfill all the messianic promises? Was she remembering that all nations on earth would call her blessed? Was she feeling blessed in this moment? (From Luke 1:46-55). 


Was she recalling the moment she and Joseph took their baby to the temple offering the required sacrifice as they presented and consecrated their son to the Lord? Was she wondering why he was being sacrificed now, right in front of her? Did she remember Simeon holding her baby and praying, ”My eyes have seen your salvation which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.”  Did she remember Simeon’s words to her? “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” (Luke 2:30-32; 34-35). Could she have imagined the piercing of her soul  as she witnessed the pierced body of her son? 


Was Mary wishing Jesus would have left it all and come home when she and his brothers went to fetch him? Mark, in his gospel, tells us that Jesus’ healing a man on the sabbath had made the religious elite very angry, and they began plotting to kill him. As his following grew, so did the opposition. When Mary and his brothers showed up, the teachers of the law were accusing Jesus of being possessed. When he was told his mother and brothers were there, he asked who were his mother and brothers, then answered his own question by saying, it’s those who do the will of the Father (Mark chapter 3). Did Mary understand he couldn’t go home in that moment because he was doing the Father’s will? Was she questioning everything now?


What about John? He’s the only one of Jesus’ closest friends named at the cross. He left everything to follow Jesus. He was part of Jesus’ small inner circle. They were close, close friends. Was he afraid? Was he wondering what was next for him? Was he watching his dream die? 


John described the physical scene at the cross like this: “Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to her, “Woman, here is your son,”  and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home” (John 19:25-27). 


Picture it.  Mary, her sister, and two other Marys were standing near the cross. (How did she have the strength to stand?) John was standing nearby. How nearby? John doesn’t write  “next to”; he writes “nearby”. I’ve seen artistic renderings of this scene in which John is right next to Mary with his arm around her, but that’s not what he describes. So, Jesus had to intentionally gaze at them individually. Was this the first moment Jesus realized they were there?  It seems possible that it is, and when he saw them, he immediately gave them to one another. That moment is a big deal. 


I don’t know why Mary and John needed these words from Jesus, but I do know a moment like this, and  it was a big deal. I was eleven when cancer took my mother from us. The timeline is fuzzy in my mind, but at one point toward the end of her earthly journey, she called my sister, brother and me into the bedroom. She was sitting upright in a chair, and  told us she’d had a dream. In the dream she had died, and our dad had remarried. She said, if that happens, I want you to love your new mother. None of us said anything. We could not allow our minds (or hearts)  to comprehend what she said. But now, on this side of things, I can not begin to articulate what a gift that was. Losing her has affected every day of my life since, but when my dad remarried, there was no hesitation in loving my new mom. I had been given the freedom to love her without question or guilt. I can’t imagine what that moment was like for my mother. She had obviously thought through what she was going to say. She spoke gently but didn’t cry, and we didn’t either. I had no idea at that time what a huge and sacrificial gift she had given us, nor what a demonstration of selfless love that was. 


Selfless love. That’s the point of this moment at the cross. Jesus is making sure John and Mary know they have one another. They can love each other like family. Selfless love. Selfless love is the point of every moment at the cross. Jesus continues what he’s already begun, demonstrating what it looks like to love selflessly for the sake of others; the “thems” and “theys”; the nameless criminal, and now, his devastated mother and his closest disciple. And all the while, Jesus is showing us what God looks like. “If you have seen me you have seen the Father” (John 14:9.) 


Friends, we have nothing to fear. God is not mad. God looks like Jesus. God is love. We are loved, and we are to let others know they are loved. To be a follower of Christ means to be an imitator of Christ. The New American Standard Bible says it like this: “[B]e imitators of God, as beloved children;  and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for you” (Eph. 5:1-2).


What does being an imitator of Christ look like in real life? What does it look like to walk in love? A few weeks ago I saw a cartoon drawing that I continue to think about. It depicts what Jesus’ type of love looks, thinks, and acts like. There were two panels in the drawing, both depicting a scene from The Good Samaritan. The first panel depicted the religious leaders intentionally avoiding the injured man. The caption said, “If I stop to help him, what will happen to me?”  The second panel had the Samaritan (a despised “other” to the Jewish people of that day) moving toward the injured man with the caption saying, “If I don’t stop to help, what will happen to him?” What will happen to him? What will happen to them and they? What happens to the world  if we are not authentic, Spirit-filled, imitators of Christ walking in love?


Pastor John ended his sermon with 1st Corinthians 13 from The Message translation. Take some time to ponder it; pause after each phrase. Don’t rush. Take it in.


 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.
Love doesn’t strut,
Doesn’t have a swelled head,
Doesn’t force itself on others,
Isn’t always “me first,”
Doesn’t fly off the handle,
Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn’t revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies.

(1st Corinthians 13: 1-8)


The Holy Spirit empowers us love this way. 2nd Peter 1:3 tells us that God, through the Spirit, has given us everything we need for life and godliness. God has given us the power to love like Christ, selflessly.  When we do, when this becomes who we are,  the world will change.


MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME? 

have you forsaken me?”. (Mark 15:31-34 NIV) 


Imagine being there. What does it look like? What do we do when it feels as though God has abandoned us? Perhaps you’re in a season like that now. It’s a hard place to be. Pastor John gave us six excellent points to ponder in those times when we feel forsaken and reminded us Jesus has been there.  

  1. When in doubt, cry out.

  2. Lean into the faith of others. 

  3. Be okay in the gray.

  4. Walk in faith, not in doubt.

  5. Doubt your doubts, not your faith.

  6. Remember what is true.

One of the things I love about scripture is how raw and real it is. When Jesus cries out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”, we glimpse his vulnerability and his humanity. Our minds struggle to comprehend the truth that Jesus was fully God and fully human, but we know from the gospels, he experienced joy, sadness, laughter, tears, frustration, contentment, and every other human emotion. He knows what it’s like to be human because he was. There is great comfort in knowing that. 


This particularly agonizing cry from the cross happens shortly before Jesus’ last breath. By this point, he’s suffered a great deal. He’s in excruciating physical and emotional pain. He feels abandoned. In his doubt, he cries out to God. We can too. Jesus’ outcry teaches us it’s okay to be real, and raw, and have questions, and cry out. I’ve done it many times. I imagine I’m not alone in that. 


Let’s place ourselves in the scene. 


“The chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. “He saved others,” they said, “but he can’t save himself! Let this Messiah, this king of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him.  At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.  And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why e, sound like, smell like, feel like? Is it chaotic? Is it loud? Are the onlookers standing still? Are they pacing? How did the mood change when the sky went dark? Was there fear? Awe? What was the reaction when Jesus shouted those words? How would you have responded in that moment? I can’t help but think about the religious leaders. Were they afraid but too proud to show it?  I do hope many of them eventually found themselves as followers of Jesus, but pride can do weird things to us.


It’s interesting that the English translation, (and many other languages’ translations) of the Bible include Jesus’ Aramaic words in Aramaic. I looked up why. Aramaic was the common language Jesus would have spoken, and Bible translators wanted to maintain the integrity of Jesus’ original words. Interestingly enough, Matthew and Mark translated these words from Hebrew into Aramaic when they wrote them in their gospels. Hebrew was the original language of Psalm 22. Why that phrase? Could it be so the people of that region could understand Jesus’ words in their heart language? Could it be so they (and we) can know crying out and having doubt are okay?


There is no question Jesus was quoting Psalm 22. The religious leaders and most of the Jewish men in the crowd would have known the Psalm in its entirety. They would have learned it in their synagogue studies, so Jesus’ words would have sparked their memory of the entire Psalm just like “The Lord is my shepherd…” does for us.


At the beginning of Psalm 22, we learn David penned the words. Psalm 22 is lengthy, so I have chosen some excerpts from the NLT version to include here. I encourage you to revisit this Psalm, and ponder Pastor John’s six points. Picture in your mind what Jesus was actually experiencing as he referenced this Psalm.


“My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why are you so far away when I groan for help? Every day I call to you, my God, but you do not answer. Every night I lift my voice, but I find no relief.  (Crying out in doubt)

Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. Our ancestors trusted in you, and you rescued them. They cried out to you and were saved. They trusted in you and were never disgraced. (Truth. Leaning into the faith of others)

Everyone who sees me mocks me. They sneer and shake their heads, saying, “Is this the one who relies on the Lord? Then let the Lord save him. If the Lord loves him so much, let the Lord rescue him!” (Doubt)

Yet you brought me safely from my mother’s womb and led me to trust you at my mother’s breast. I was thrust into your arms at my birth. You have been my God from the moment I was born. (Truth. Okay in the gray.)

Do not stay so far from me, for trouble is near, and no one else can help me. (Doubting the doubts. Leaning into truth)

My life is poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart is like wax, melting within me. My strength has dried up like sunbaked clay. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have laid me in the dust and left me for dead. My enemies surround me like a pack of dogs; an evil gang closes in on me. They have pierced my hands and feet.  (Doubt, crying out)

My enemies stare at me and gloat. They divide my garments among themselves and throw dice for my clothing. (This happened. What were the religious leaders thinking when this Psalm was referenced? Did they acknowledge the connection? Was Jesus inviting them to change their minds about him as they saw this prophecy fulfilled?) 

O Lord, do not stay far away! You are my strength; come quickly to my aid! 
Save me from the sword; spare my precious life from these dogs.  (Cry out)

Praise the Lord, all you who fear him! Honor him, all you descendants of Jacob! Show him reverence, all you descendants of Israel! For he has not ignored or belittled the suffering of the needy. He has not turned his back on them but has listened to their cries for help. The poor will eat and be satisfied. All who seek the Lord will praise him. Their hearts will rejoice with everlasting joy. (Faith, Truth):   

Our children will also serve him. Future generations will hear about the wonders of the Lord. His righteous acts will be told to those not yet born. They will hear about everything he has done. (Faith)


That’s quite a Psalm for Jesus to recall. There is nothing easy about what Jesus endured. It brings up many emotions when I take time to ponder it. There is no way to convey the depth of my sorrow over Jesus’ agony or the depth of my gratitude for his unconditional, all-embracing love. Not only are we gifted citizenship and eternal life in the Kingdom of Heaven, both here and on the other side of the veil, not only do we get to know God who loves us beyond what we’ll ever comprehend, not only do we get to partner with God in being an answer to Jesus’ prayer “Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven…”, not only do we get to introduce others to the God who made them and loves them beyond what seems possible, not only do we get to have a personal relationship/friendship with Jesus and hear the voice of God through the Holy Spirit, we also get to be real. Jesus did not pretend that life doesn’t include both brutal and beautiful moments, and he let us know it’s okay to question. Pastor John pointed out doubt is not a sin. It’s a feeling, an emotion. It’s uncertainty and it’s okay. 


We want certainty. We don’t want to be okay in the gray. We don’t want gray. Yet, if we pretend we don’t have questions or doubt, we rob ourselves of the beauty and transforming power of an authentic relationship with God. What do I mean by that? 

God knows our thoughts. God knows our doubts. God knows our questions. God knows when we don’t particularly care for what is being allowed or when there is not a quick solution to hard things we’re facing. If we’re pretending that none of that is true, we are not approaching the throne of grace with authenticity or confidence that we’ll be accepted exactly as we are. Instead, we are trying to fake our way with a religious facade. I’ve tried that method. It doesn’t work. The doubts remain, resentment builds, distance happens, hearts harden. 


I don’t think “real” people get through life without wrestling, but it’s important to know the difference between wrestling with God and wrestling against God. Jesus is wrestling with God. It’s face to face. Wrestling against God looks more like turning one's back and bristling anytime  God draws near. The consequences of wrestling against God can be severe. I wish I didn’t know that personally, but I do. So do others.


Shortly before Jesus’ arrest he cries out “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing.” (Mt. 23:37) They wrestled against God and the consequences were severe. The rich young ruler wrestled against God. Mark 10:21 tells us “Jesus looked at [the young man] and loved him”; however, the young man didn’t like what he heard. He liked his possessions. He wrestled against God and walked away.  Judas’ story breaks my heart. He didn’t “get” Jesus; he wrestled against, and it cost him dearly.


Saul/Paul wrestled against God as a persecutor of Jesus’ followers, then wrestled with God on the Damascus road. He went on to face many hardships for the cause of Christ but continued to wrestle with, not against God. (Acts 9). Peter wrestled with God many times. His rebuke to Jesus when Jesus was going to wash his feet was one of those times. (John 13:8) The father with the possessed son in Mark 9, wrestled with God. He prayed one of my favorite prayers in all of scripture: “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24). I’ve prayed that prayer many times.  


Jesus told us, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Jesus showed us how to wrestle with God, how to be real, how to cry out, how to express doubt, how to doubt our doubt, how to exercise faith, how to live in the gray, how to remember what is true, and how to be human. He also provided us with a global family of brothers and sisters to learn from, walk with, be real with, share life with, and invite others into.

 

We will all have “My God, My God…” moments. I wish that weren’t true, but it is. Don’t be afraid. Jesus has been there. Other believers have been there. Together, in the power of the Holy Spirit, we will walk through it with honesty, with authenticity, and with faith, crying out as we need to, and knowing God is there.

I AM THIRSTY.  

As we’ve been moving slowly through Jesus’ time on the cross and contemplating his spoken words as he hung there, we’ve been reminded of both his divinity and his humanity. This week we look at Jesus’ humanity. 


Right after the moment Jesus gave John and his mother to one another, John recorded Jesus’ statement of need. He wrote: “Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” (Jn. 19:28)  We don’t know how much later, how much longer Jesus hung there in silence, but we know John was still there. I think that’s a beautiful testament to their deep friendship. Friends who are with us through the hardest struggles of life are one of God’s greatest gifts. God designed us to be interdependent. Jesus modeled this beautifully, and he is our ultimate role model for how to live. 


As Pastor John was preaching, I was thinking of other times Jesus asked for help. Just off the top of my head, Jesus asked the disciples to go ahead of him into the city to prepare the passover. Jesus asked some of his friends to borrow a donkey for him. He asked his closest three friends to stay, pray, and keep watch with him in the garden the night he was arrested. One of my favorite exchanges, recorded in Luke 19, takes place between Jesus and Zaccheus. Both Zaccheus’ tree-climbing curiosity about Jesus, and Jesus inviting himself to Zaccheus’ house for a meal make me smile. But my favorite of Jesus’ encounters is found in John 4. It highlights another time Jesus was thirsty. Every detail is important.


The Apostle John lets us know their group had to travel through Samaria. It’s important to note, the Jews and Samaritans did not care for one another. There was a lot of hostility between those two people groups. Luke writes about a time a Samaritan village refused to let Jesus and his disciples pass through. John and his brother James asked Jesus if he wanted them to call down fire from heaven and destroy the village. (Obviously, they hadn’t figured out the heart of Jesus yet.) “Jesus rebuked them, saying they didn't know what kind of spirit they belonged to. The Son of Man came to save, not destroy.” (Luke 9:54) Those are good words for us to remember as well.  


On the day recorded in John 4, Jesus and the disciples had stopped in a Samaritan village. It was the middle of the day. The disciples had gone into town to buy food. Jesus was tired and resting near Jacob’s well. While he was there, a woman came to get water. “Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?”” (Jn 4:7) The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans) .” (Jn. 4:9)  


Before we go further, note that Jesus was tired, he was resting, he was thirsty, he had a need, and he broke all social protocol by asking, not only a Samaritan, but a Samaritan woman, for a drink. She is obviously taken aback and wonders why on earth he is talking to her, so she asks him. 

Her question leads to a beautiful conversation about living water, eternal life, and the difficulties and realities of her earthly life. She recognizes Jesus is special and says she can tell he’s a prophet, so she asks about the religious schism between the Jews and Samaritans. That question led to Jesus telling her that the day was coming, and was there now, when true worshippers would worship God in spirit and truth. Then she said, “I know the Messiah is coming—the one who is called Christ. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.” Jesus told her, “I am the Messiah!” (vs. 25-26)  That makes me want to fall on the floor every time I read it. She is the first person Jesus revealed his true identity to. Their exchange is beautiful. He had a need; he asked her for help. She had a need; she asked him for help. This is interdependence, and it’s beautiful. 


The rest of the story is interesting too. The disciples came back and “they were shocked to find him talking to a woman, but none of them had the nerve to ask, “What do you want with her?” or “Why are you talking to her?”” (vs. 27). They encouraged Jesus to eat. He said his food was doing God’s will and explained some spiritual truths to them.  Meanwhile, the woman ran back to town to tell everyone about this man who didn’t judge her, even though he knew all about her. Jesus and his disciples ended up staying there for two days. After those days, the people of the village “said to the woman, “Now we believe, not just because of what you told us, but because we have heard him ourselves. Now we know that he is indeed the Savior of the world.”” (v. 42).  


Wow! I’m sure the disciples hadn’t anticipated that turn of events in Samaria, of all places! Yet, when we humble ourselves, we don’t “other” others, we ask for help and are approachable enough that others ask us for help, we don’t know what God will do. Jesus asked for a drink and as a result an entire village was transformed. Interdependence makes the world a better and more hospitable place for everyone. It’s how we were designed to live.


When we look for it, we see interdependence all throughout scripture. We know Jesus lived in community with his disciples and those who ministered to him along the way. We know Paul was dependent on the generosity of others as he carried out his ministry, and we know they were dependent on him to learn how to bring Jews and Gentiles together and walk in Christ. We know that Jesus death, resurrection, and pouring out of his Holy Spirit was about God establishing a people on earth who would love others as God had loved them and sow the seeds of God’s kingdom wherever they went. We know in God’s kingdom we take care of one another. We know the early church, described in Acts 2:42-47 lived completely interdependently. We know we are to “carry each other’s burdens, and in this way [we] will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Gal. 6:2) We know the law of Christ is to love God, heart, soul, and mind, and love our neighbor as ourselves. (Mt. 22:37-38) We know James 5:16 tells us to “confess our sins to each other and pray for each other so that we may be healed.” 


We also know, no one is excluded. Every human being from everywhere is loved and welcome in God’s kingdom. In Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, he teaches his followers what the Kingdom of God on earth looks like. In it, he says, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled. (Mt. 5:6)  Are we hungering and thirsting for righteousness? What does that even mean? 


The simplest definition I have heard regarding “righteousness” is being rightly related to God and rightly related to others. The Greek word translated “righteousness” or “justice” is dikaiosyné. The Greek dictionary gives its meaning as “fair and equitable dealing, integrity, and generosity.” The biblical Greek dictionary adds that “it is the act of doing what is in agreement with God's standards.” And Strong’s Concordance teaches us that its root is equity. The English word “deacon” is diakonos, and means “servant or minister”.


Jesus' entire life and ministry looked like that. Fair. Equitable. Generous. In agreement with God’s standards. Serving. Ministering. And the word integrity– it’s root is integer, meaning whole or complete. How beautiful is that? Jesus was whole and complete. Jesus’ ministry was whole and complete. His desire is for us to be whole and complete and help others become whole and complete. The Greek word “sozo”, which is translated “save” in our Bibles, means “to make whole, heal, restore, deliver.” Salvation means to be made whole, to be healed, to be restored,  to be delivered. All of this happens over time, in community.


Are we hungering and thirsting for this type of community and this type of world? If so, what does it take to get there?


Jesus, on the cross, expressed his need. He said, “I am thirsty.” “A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips.” (John 19:29). Jesus expressed his need. Someone responded. 


Jesus still has needs. He says, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me…’ whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Mt 25: 35-36)


The ministry and mission of Christ on earth depends on us. If the world is going to know God’s love, we are needed. Our vulnerability is needed. Our gifts are needed. Our interdependence is needed. None of us is in this alone. Don’t be afraid to tell someone you are thirsty, and don’t be afraid to take care of someone else’s thirst. In both of these things, we follow the example and the heart of Christ. 


Are you thirsty?


IT IS FINISHED 

Let’s begin this week by placing ourselves in the scene at the cross once again. I’ve included last week’s scripture with this week’s and encourage you to read it slowly. Ponder all that’s already happened. Visualize the scene in your mind. If you picture yourself there, what are you seeing? What are you smelling? What are you feeling? Where are you standing? John, Mary, and the other women are close by. There are soldiers. There are other onlookers. There are other men dying near Jesus. The sky is dark even though it is still afternoon. What are you experiencing there?


I doubt anyone else was aware that hundreds of years of prophecy were being fulfilled right before their eyes, yet Jesus knew it. 


John wrote: “Later, knowing that everything had now been finished, and so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.”  A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips.  When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.” With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” (19: 28-30)


Pause here for a moment. What was that moment like for those who loved him? They didn’t know what was coming next like we do. Let yourself feel the weight of it. 

 

In Greek, the phrase it is finished is one word: “tetelestai”, a verb tense of the word “teleo”, which means to bring to an end, to complete, to finish, to fulfill. Teleo is the act of bringing something to a successful conclusion. Tetelestai means that the successful conclusion has happened. What Jesus was communicating to those paying attention is, it’s done; it’s paid for; it’s now a completed reality, it is finished. (Strong’s Concordance of Biblical Words, New Testament Greek Lexicon) Jesus said this aloud for all to hear.  


Pastor John took us through some of the “ends” Jesus accomplished in that moment. It will be hard for me not to jump ahead to Easter as I write, but it’s important for us to acknowledge the “ends” that took place when Jesus gave up his spirit. 


If we go to Genesis 22:18, we are reminded that God, through Abraham, established a people who would be the lineage through whom God would bless all nations. God was not wiping out a nation of people when Jesus died. He was fulfilling his promise to Abraham that all other nations on earth would be blessed too. We would all be God’s people. 


Even in the Old Testament, we see God’s heart for all people and God’s instructions for the way God’s people are to treat others. In Leviticus 19, God says, “‘When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Do not go over your vineyard a second time or pick up the grapes that have fallen. Leave them for the poor and the foreigner. I am the Lord your God.” (9,10)  We see this in practice in the book of Ruth. Ruth was a foreigner, a Midianite woman, gleaning in Boaz’s field when they met. He ended up marrying her and she ended up being part of the lineage that bore Christ.


Also in Leviticus 19, God instructs: “‘When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God” (33, 34). That’s a pretty clear instruction.  


In the Old Testament (Old Covenant), we see God’s prophets also ministered to those from other nations. People such as Naaman the Syrian (2nd Kings 5), a widow from Zarapheth,  (1st Kings 17), and God sent Jonah to the nation of Ninevah. Jonah was not happy about it. He didn’t want God to love them too. He certainly didn’t want to be the messenger of God’s love to a people group he didn’t care for, and he made that clear. Is that us sometimes? Are we hesitant to be messengers of God’s love to certain people?


Over and over in the Old Testament/Covenant, we see God reaching out to other nations through his chosen people.


What changed with Jesus death, is that people of all nations would be his people– one people, still with the same mission of being a blessing to all people. We see this in Peter’s first letter to the followers of Christ in “the provinces of Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia,” (1st Pet. 1:1). He names five different people groups and says,  “you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God.” (2: 9-10)


Paul highlighted this over and over. In Galatians 3:28 he wrote, “ There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” And, in Colossians 3:11 and 12 he wrote, “Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all. Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” One people, all dearly loved, clothing ourselves with Christ in order to be a blessing to others. 


God’s prophecy to Abraham was completed through Christ, and it’s important to note, Israel was not rejected. Paul writes in Romans 11:1-2, “Did God reject his people? By no means! I am an Israelite myself, a descendant of Abraham, from the tribe of Benjamin. God did not reject his people, whom he foreknew. We Gentiles were grafted in to what God was already about, through Christ. 


Another notable end was the sacrificial, law-based system for dealing with sin. 


Can you imagine how exhausting it would have been to live under that old sacrificial system? Wouldn’t there always have been doubt as to whether or not you’d done it right? Was your offering unblemished enough? Was your dove, or your sheep, or your bull sufficient? Can you imagine being one of the priests who slaughtered animal after animal all day long? Can you imagine the blood, the flies, the smell, the ick of it all? 


In the sacrificial system, the focus became the sacrifice, not a relationship with God. No one could obey all of the law all of the time, and the sacrificial system could never be sufficient to deal with sin. In that system, God became secondary to the sacrifice. It reached a point that God lamented, “The multitude of your sacrifices—  what are they to me?” says the Lord. “I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats. When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts? Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations—I cannot bear your worthless assemblies. Your New Moon feasts and your appointed festivals I hate with all my being. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them. When you spread out your hands in prayer, I hide my eyes from you; even when you offer many prayers,  I am not listening. Your hands are full of blood!  Wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight; stop doing wrong. Learn to do right; seek justice.  Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.”  (Isaiah 1:11-17)


Those are strong words. Again, we see that God’s heart is for God’s people to love and care for others. God doesn’t want our rituals. God wants our hearts to be so consumed by his heart that everyone has the opportunity to know of God’s love.


Micah 6:8 is one of my favorite verses. It succinctly sums up what God wants from us, whether under the old covenant or the new: “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”  Again, God’s desire for how we are to “be” in the world and God’s heart toward others is so clear. 


The sacrifical system could never atone (make reparation or amends) for our sin. Those under that system were constantly worried about sin, knowing they’d have to return to the altar again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and…  until It. Is. Finished. 


What a gift!


In the book of Hebrews we read, “Sacrifices and offerings, burnt offerings and sin offerings you did not desire, nor were you pleased with them”—though they were offered in accordance with the law. Then [Jesus] said, “Here I am, I have come to do your will.” He sets aside the first (covenant) to establish the second. And by that will, we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.  Day after day every priest stands and performs his religious duties; again and again he offers the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins. But when this priest (Jesus) had offered for all time one sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God.” (10:8-13)  It. Is. Finished.


Paul, in his letter to the Galatians expressed his thoughts regarding the law. He wrote: For all who rely on the works of the law are under a curse, as it is written: “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the Book of the Law.”... Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law… He redeemed us in order that the blessing given to Abraham might come to the Gentiles through Christ Jesus, so that by faith we might receive the promise of the Spirit.” (Gal. 3:10-12) It. Is. Finished


And Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, said “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them.” (Mt. 5:17) Everything required in the Law and the Prophets was fulfilled, accomplished, completed, “tetelestai’d” on the cross. It. Is. Finished.


It’s sometimes hard for us to wrap our minds around the fact that the Old Covenant is not ours. We get caught up in rules, in shoulds and shouldn’ts, in measuring ourselves up against one another, in trying to earn God’s favor through our behavior, in punishing ourselves or others for falling short, etc. We can learn from the Old Covenant, but it is finished. We live under the New Covenant. The New Covenant is the covenant of grace, of love, of being fully accepted, of no fear, of no hoops to jump through, no wondering if we’re in good standing with God, if we’ve done enough. Jesus did enough, and when we know and fully embrace that, we know with every fiber of our being that we are secure in God’s love, freeing us to focus on loving others. 


Let’s resist the temptation to marry the old covenant to the new one. They are not “one”. The establishment of the New Covenant was costly. Jesus, at the final passover meal with his disciples “took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” (Luke 22:20) And then, Jesus laid down his life. It was brutal, it was excruciating, it was humiliating, and he died. God, clothed in flesh, died. Let yourself feel the impact of this moment. Feel it. Stay here for now. 


We know what’s coming next and I can hardly wait to write about it, but for now, let’s sit in the “It is finished” before we move on.  Tetelestai.