Hi, my name is George Sinclair. I'm the lead pastor of Church of the Messiah.
! It is wonderful that you would like to check out some of the sermons done by Church of the Messiah,
either by myself or some of the others. Listen, just a couple of things. First of all, would you pray for us
that we will open God's Word well to His glory and for the good of people like yourself?
The second thing is, if you aren't connected to a church and if you are a Christian,
we really, I would really like to encourage you to find a good local church where they believe the
Bible, they preach the gospel, and if you have some trouble finding that, send us an email. We will do
what we can to help connect you with a good local church wherever you are. And if you're a non-Christian,
checking us out, we're really, really, really glad you're doing that. Don't hesitate to send us
questions. It helps me actually to know, as I'm preaching, how to deal with the types of things
that you're really struggling with. So God bless.
Welcome, those who are here, and to those who are joining us online, welcome. If you are here and you
haven't, if you've never been to one of our Good Friday services before, they're a bit of a different
format. We're going to go into the, really the heart of the service, which is going back and forward
between having a four to six minute reflection or teaching on each of the last seven last words of
Jesus. So four, five, six minutes each. And they'll be punctuated by prayer. So the first person will
come up and speak. I'll ask us all to stand and we'll have a minute or so of silence as we reflect
on what we've just heard. I'll close the silence with a prayer. And then we'll either go to the next word
or a song, but we'll go that rhythm all the way through the service. Reflections, silence, singing
of hymns and songs until the service comes to an end. And then we'll have a sort of a closing prayer
and blessing and a couple of announcements. So that's how the flow of the service will go.
So actually, let's just commend this service once again into God's hands. Father, we give you thanks
and praise that you are just as present in a group of a thousand as you are in a group of,
I don't know, 50, 60, 70 people. Father, we thank you that you love it when your people gather.
Help us to know, Father, that you are the sovereign God who loves us. Draw us into your presence and tune
our hearts to receive everything you desire to give us all the grace you desire to give us this morning.
Tune our hearts to receive that and respond in a worthy manner. And we ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.
Lisa will come and speak on the first word.
Luke 23, 34. Jesus said, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.
And they divided up his clothes by casting lots. Before the cross, Jesus was rejected by his own.
He was spit on, given a crown of thorns, whipped, and carried his own cross, which he was not able to
carry all the way. Stripped of his clothes, experiencing a very cruel death, and more.
With all of this, Jesus' first words are a prayer to God.
God, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.
With all the suffering and injustice he experienced, he prays. But he doesn't pray for himself.
He prays for the forgiveness of those who are causing his suffering.
Jesus came to take the punishment for our sins. By accepting his forgiveness, we can be with God forever.
For the forgiveness of God.
Christ forgave us and taught us to forgive others.
I looked up what forgiveness causes, and this is what I found.
Unforgiveness causes severe physical, mental, spiritual harm, acting as a toxic burden that leads to chronic stress,
high blood pressure, depression, and weakened immunity.
It fosters deep-seated bitterness, rage, and resentment, while damaging relationships
and hindering our personal growth by keeping a person trapped in the past.
In light of this, it seems fitting that Jesus' first words are,
Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.
Jesus knows that unforgiveness hinders us and causes a barrier with our relationship with God.
To forgive means to excuse a fault, absolve from payment, pardon, send away, cancel, and bestow favor unconditionally.
I was brought up in a Christian home.
We went to church. We were very involved.
I accepted Christ when I was nine, went to Sunday school, VBS, youth group, a Christian high school.
In the middle school, we were seen as the perfect family.
But behind the scenes, it was not so perfect.
I grew up in a household where I had to obey and not question, otherwise I was punished.
I couldn't ask questions about my faith. I was told to just believe.
I was a sensitive child and didn't like conflict. I did what I was told.
Being the eldest, the roles were stricter for me than my younger siblings.
I was set as an example.
My household was an abusive household.
There was arguing, deceit, and sexual abuse.
I was taken out of the house at 14, and at that point, I can choose if I was going to follow God or not.
I always knew that Jesus was with me, so I continued to follow Jesus.
Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling.
I knew Jesus wanted me to forgive my father.
Being brought up to obey, I did forgive him.
My foster mother told me that I could ask God any questions and go to him if I was angry, sad, mad, really anything.
With this new information, I learned that asking questions is something God wants us to do.
I wanted to learn and understand my faith more.
I wanted to understand what forgiveness was and what it meant.
I learned I had to forgive in different levels.
My father knew what he was doing was wrong, and I had to forgive him.
Later, I realized I needed to forgive my mother for not protecting me.
She did not know what to do, and she was under my father's wrath.
She was trapped, but I forgave her.
My younger brothers, about seven years younger than I, were told lies about me,
and as a result, they were mean to me and hurtful.
They did not know what they were doing.
I had to forgive them.
Different levels of forgiveness.
I knew I had to forgive them, even though they did not ask for forgiveness.
This was for my own peace, and I gave them and the situation to God to deal with.
There is also an everyday forgiveness that God has shown me.
Forgiving those in our lives that are close, our family, parents, husbands, children, friends, workmates.
They can do or say things that can hurt us, whether we know it or not.
Be quick to forgive them.
As well.
Holding on to hurt only hurts us and our relationship with God and others.
We even need to forgive those we don't know that cause us inconvenience or pain.
We need to pray for all and believe that God will take care of their side of the situation,
and we need to take care of our side of the situation with God's help.
Mark 11, 22 to 26 teaches us that forgiveness hinders our faith from working.
The Father can't forgive our sins if we don't forgive other people.
Jesus freely forgives us.
We are to forgive others.
Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.
God, our Creator, loves us so much, He showed it by sending His Son, Jesus, to bridge the gap that our sin causes between us and God.
He knew what His Son was going to go through, yet He still sent Him.
Jesus fully submitted Himself to God.
Paul encourages us in Philippians 2 to be like Christ.
Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.
Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but to the interests of others.
Have the mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,
who, though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God something to be grasped,
but emptied Himself by taking the form of a servant, being born in likeness of men, and being found in human form,
He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Therefore, God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name,
so that the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.
I invite you to stand.
We'll have a minute or so of silent prayer.
Father, we marvel and rejoice that you are omniscient, that you know all things, you see all things,
and we give you thanks and praise.
Our mind can't really ever fully understand it,
that knowing every single thing there is to know about us,
that still you desire to forgive us, and so your Son came to die on the cross,
that by our faith and trust in Him we might be forgiven of every sin we have ever done.
We ask, Father, that you would bring that truth deep into our hearts.
We ask, Father, that you would help us to die to all vain attempts to forgive ourselves,
but instead that you might bring before our hearts, our minds, our eyes,
the true and real and deep and eternal forgiveness that is offered to us from yourself,
to each one of us.
And we ask, Father, that as that truth becomes more real to us,
and we are able to stand, that you would help us to be people who forgive,
that that might more and more be what characterizes us, that we forgive.
And we ask these things in the name of Jesus, your Son and our Savior. Amen.
I ask you be seated, and Uzo will speak on the second word.
The second word of Jesus is from Luke chapter 23, verses 43.
It says,
Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.
So now, just some brief context for this verse.
Just in this scene, Jesus has been crucified, and alongside both sides of him,
two people who are accused of being thieves.
One of them mocks Jesus, saying to him,
If you are so innocent, how come you are up here with us?
The other says,
The other asks him in humility for mercy,
and to him, Jesus responds,
Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.
Now, this meditation will entail me drawing your attention to three words in this sentence
that I find to be particularly revealing.
First word is, truly.
Truly here showcases Jesus' seriousness and sincerity.
Oftentimes in scripture, Jesus will,
when he intends to communicate something with particular sincerity,
he says,
Truly, truly, I say to you,
or verily I say to you.
Here in this scene, to a criminal, he says,
Truly, I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.
And so, by saying this,
he showcases the sincerity of his promise,
which underscores our hope of assurance
for forgiveness and salvation
once we profess Christ
and ask for his mercy and humility.
The second word is you.
You here referring to the criminal.
Now, some might think it's scandalous
that a criminal would receive promise of paradise
just like that.
There is a common notion,
or cognitive bias, if you will,
amongst modern society,
wherein, if God forgives
the worst person you know,
or the worst person in history,
whoever that may be,
this warrants some query against God.
However, if you were to forgive me,
or us,
then that's understandable
because our sins aren't that bad.
This reveals a false sense of entitlement
that we have
to being consulted
or having a say as to who God
can show mercy to.
If this is the case,
a question then arises,
who has a say as to whether God
shows mercy on us?
And furthermore,
would it be a favorable decision?
Perhaps, instead of worrying about
how God can show grace to another person,
we should ask how he can show grace to us,
and then rejoice that he has.
The last word is today.
Now, in the traditional interpretation,
we are given to understand
that this showcases the immediacy
of our being with Christ upon our death.
This offers some comfort,
hope in the face of death.
However, in my brief research,
there exists some debate
over whether the word today
should appear after the comma,
as I read before,
or before the comma,
such that it now reads,
truly I tell you,
truly I tell you today,
you will be with me in paradise.
Now, for some,
this shift creates doubt,
uncertainty about their fate
prior to Christ's second coming,
but after their death.
It offers not hope,
but now fear,
fear due to uncertainty,
fear due to the unknown.
But I submit that
what should in fact offer us hope
is the essence,
the core of the promise,
and not the exact time
of the promise being fulfilled.
A quick argument to illustrate,
and then to conclude.
Premise one,
if we can trust Christ's character,
then it doesn't really matter
when the promise is fulfilled.
To support this,
think about it.
If the scripture shows
Christ's character to be trustworthy,
and his words to be sincere,
then does it really matter
when the promise is fulfilled?
If the scripture were to tell us
the exact time
the promise were to be fulfilled,
but also in the same scriptures,
we see Jesus,
Jesus' words being lies,
his character being untrustworthy,
would that really bring you clarity?
Premise two,
and so therefore,
if Christ's character is trustworthy,
then it doesn't really matter.
If his character is not trustworthy,
then it doesn't really matter.
Premise two,
we can trust Christ's character,
fortunately,
and by way of support here,
1 Peter 2 verse 6 says,
whoever puts his trust in him
will not be put to shame.
Conclusion,
therefore,
after we die,
it doesn't really matter
when we get to be with Christ.
For he said,
we will be with him,
and so we shall.
Thank you.
I invite you to stand
for a minute or so
of silent prayer.
Thank you.
Father,
we thank you that we can gather,
and in the background here,
the quiet,
friendly,
safe,
murmuring of children,
and at the same time,
in the distance,
the sound of sirens.
But Father,
whether it is the comforting noises
or the noises of great distress,
we give you thanks and praise
that Jesus is our true shepherd,
and that when it comes
our time to walk
through the valley
of the shadow
of the veil of death,
that we will not walk alone
if we have put our faith
and trust in Jesus.
We thank you,
Father,
that like the thief
on the cross
who is penitent,
you have not weighed
our merits
but pardoned our offenses.
And Father,
whether the theologians
who think we are
immediately in your presence
or we sleep
and whatever it is
they say,
we know that we will
be with Jesus,
that he will care for us,
and that we will see him
face to face
and be granted
resurrected bodies
in paradise
for all eternity.
So we ask,
Father,
that you build within us
a sure and certain hope
of our Lord and Savior,
Jesus Christ,
triumph over death
and our sharing
in his victory
by humble faith.
And we ask this
in the name of Jesus,
your Son and our Savior.
Amen.
Please be seated
for the third word.
Reading from
John 19,
26 to 27.
But standing
by the cross
of Jesus
were his mother
and his mother's sister,
Mary,
the wife of Clopas
and Mary Magdalene.
When Jesus saw
his mother
and the disciple
whom he loved
standing nearby,
he said to his mother,
woman,
behold your son.
Then he said
to the disciple,
behold your mother.
And from that hour
the disciple
took her
to his own home.
A son
looking
into the eyes
of his mother.
A mother
looking into the eyes
of her son.
The son
dripping,
stained,
exposed,
looks out
to the masses
who jeer
and laugh
and lock eyes
with the tender gaze
of his mother
watching her son.
Her son
she first heard
about from the angel.
Her son
she swaddled
and soothed.
Her son
who held her hand
and all her hope
now hung destitute
in front of her.
He initiates
with her.
Behold,
woman,
behold your son.
His eyes
now shift focus
to his disciple.
Behold your mother.
He calls out,
pulling himself up
to get the words out.
Collapsing,
back down
in exhale
exhaustion.
What of his brothers?
His uncles?
Surely there are
other family members
to take care
of his mother.
Mary's own sister
is there beside her.
Yet he
in his last moments
redraws
the lines
of responsibility
delegating
a loved disciple
to care
for his mother.
To stand
in his place
as the son
that he needs
as the son
that she needs
to protect
and provide for.
But Jesus knows
the disciple
offers something
different to Mary
than potentially
a relative could.
Though all Mary
can see
is deep loss,
broken dreams,
and oppressive darkness,
Jesus,
in frailty,
speaks words
that denote
attuned attention
to her physical needs,
yes,
but also
to her spiritual need.
Is this beloved disciple
one who has
economic means
to protect his mother
and provide for her
in such a vulnerable
stage of life?
Humble means possibly,
but nothing lavish.
We don't really know,
but surely
this disciple
affords her
something much
more valuable.
He keeps her
right where
she needs to be
to be reminded
of Jesus,
his teachings,
his actions,
to be reminded
of his promises
in miracles
and wonders,
to be in the community
of people
who would mourn
him deepest
and who saw
him rightly.
Yes,
but even more,
what this disciple
does ensure
is that he would
keep her
right where
she needs to be
to be amongst
the first
who would see
him raised
from the dead,
amongst the first
to see death
conquered
and fear
and loss
mended.
Yes,
this would place
her right
in the front row
of beholding
his resurrection
power,
seeing her
scatter hopes
and dreams
rebuilt
into a more
glorious narrative
than could ever
be imagined.
A grafting
into a new family,
God's people
reconstituted
around the
resurrected Christ,
a new line
that centers
on him
that supersedes
bloodlines,
open to all
nations.
As he looks
after her
temporary security,
he is moments
away from
securing her
eternity
and all those
who look to him.
His eyes
are somehow
on her
in his moments
of agony.
His eyes
are somehow
on you
in those moments
of agony,
a son
looking into
the eyes
of his mother,
a mother
looking into
the eyes
of her son.
I invite you
to stand,
please.
We'll have a
minute or so
of silent prayer.
father,
we give you
thanks and
praise
that we
are reminded
of your
great tenderness
and kindness
towards us.
Father,
bring deep
within our
hearts
that we
will never
meet anyone
more kind
or more tender
than you.
you are
tenderness
and kindness
itself.
Father,
we ask
that you
continue
to look
upon us.
Some of us,
fathers,
struggle
with great
wounds
and great
loss.
Some of us,
fathers,
struggle with
deep fears.
Fears
and loss
and wounds
that are so
deep we feel
uncomfortable
even allowing
others to know
about it.
But you know.
And so,
father,
we ask
that you
would look
upon us,
continue tenderly
and lovingly
and with
kindness.
That you
minister to
those of us
who struggle
with great
loss and
great wounds
that we
might know
your tender
comfort.
And,
father,
reveal to us
as to whether
there are
people with
whom we
can share.
We know
there are,
father.
You have
put each
other,
you have
put us
in a
one another
life.
That you
use your
children to
help us
bear our
burden.
So,
father,
draw us
again to
your tender
heart.
And we
ask this
in Jesus'
name.
Amen.
Remain
seated.
Please
be seated
as we
will have
Shannon
bring the
fourth
word.
The
fourth
word
comes from
Mark 15
verses
34.
And at
the ninth
hour,
Jesus
cried with
a loud
voice,
Eloi,
lema
sabachthani,
which means
my God,
why have
you forsaken
me?
I'm not
very good
at memorizing
scripture.
Maybe some
of you can
relate.
I never
have been,
and I seem
to have
plenty of
excuses as
to why I'm
not good
at it and
don't do it
as much as
I should
or could.
But if I'm
being honest
with myself,
it's really
just a matter
of it being
an underdeveloped
skill, a
muscle that I
haven't put to
very much use.
As technology
has progressed
and smartphones
have made
us dumber,
the muscle
of memorization
has atrophied,
and it's
to our
detriment,
our mental
and spiritual
detriment.
In Mark
15,
verse 34,
Jesus shows
the incredible
spiritual power
of scripture
memorization.
We see how
knowing the
scriptures isn't
just a functional,
robotic response
that we expect
is going to help
us to deal
with the
challenges of
life.
Rather,
it is a
deeply
theological
and spiritual
experience.
Memorizing
sacred texts
was and
is an
essential part
of Judaism,
as it is
for many
cultures with
strong oral
traditions.
Teachers like
Jesus and
Paul would
have memorized
vast swaths
of the Old
Testament,
putting many
of us modern
Christians to
shame.
And not just
teachers,
but followers
as well.
We typically
view memorizing
scripture as
a helpful tool
in times of
trouble,
a way to
encourage us,
to lift us
up,
and to
remind us of
bigger and
better things.
And while
that can
be and
is all
good and
true,
what I love
about Jesus'
own use of
memorized
scripture in
this passage
is that he
chose a
rather strange
and un-uplifting
verse to
recite.
it's fair to
assume that
Jesus would
have known
by heart
several,
if not all,
of the
Psalms.
There were
so many
others he
could have
chosen.
Psalm 23,
for example,
would have
been a great
one to use
in that
moment.
I'm sure
many other
martyrs
have.
But in
Mark 1534,
Jesus chooses
Psalm 22,
a passage of
unequivocal
lament.
Interestingly,
he quotes it,
I just realized
this,
he quotes it
in Aramaic.
the Hebrew
Bible was
not written
in Aramaic.
He chooses
to use the
language that
speaks to his
heart.
So I think
that's a plug
for translating
scripture and
knowing it in
your own
language,
in your heart
language.
He uses it
the same way
the author
had,
to cry out,
to voice a
deep,
guttural
desperation,
despair that
he felt in
that moment,
a moment when
he was separated
from the very
God he chose
to obey.
This is a
scripture passage
that opens with
a line that
is dangerously
close to an
accusation toward
God.
Why have you
forsaken me?
This is the line
that Jesus quotes.
He's not afraid to
express frustration,
desperation,
and deep,
deep disappointment.
In fact,
I believe he uses
this unexpected,
unconventional,
memorized passage
precisely to
express the
deeply human
emotion of
loss.
He's embodying
a core part
of humanity
in this fallen
world.
Like his
entrance into
our earthly
realm as an
embryo,
then a fetus,
then a helpless
baby,
his empathy
with us in
the deepest
and lowest
elements of
life reverberates
through this
prayer.
In this
moment,
he prays a
priestly prayer
that both
expresses his
humanity and
paves a path
for us in
ours.
Hebrews 5
tells us,
during the
days of
Jesus'
life on
earth,
he offered
up prayers
and petitions
with fervent
cries and
tears to
the one who
could have
saved him
from death.
And he was
heard because
of his
reverent
submission.
The
scriptures
invite us
to pray
through our
suffering,
not to
repress it,
not to
silence the
pain,
but to
cry through
it.
Do you
realize how
unique this
is to
Christianity?
Jesus is
showing a
natural response
to the
unnatural
reality of
death and
separation from
our father.
He's using
spirit-breathed
scripture to
express it.
And he was
doing it out
of reverence
and obedience.
The gospels
record our
Lord crying
out this
very real,
very raw
prayer because
they are
pointing us
to and
teaching us
through a
theology of
suffering.
Christ's
personal
experience with
pain and
his unashamed
use of
such a
vulnerable and
dark passage
of the Bible
acknowledges our
own suffering.
It shows us
how because of
his choice to
be forsaken,
completely forsaken,
to follow through
with the worst
thing possible
means that we
will never be
fully forsaken.
This morning,
I heard an
interview with a
famous pastor,
many of you
would know him,
who was facing
a terminal
illness a few
years ago.
He very wisely
and simply
said,
if Jesus Christ
has been risen
from the dead,
that means
everything will
be okay,
but that doesn't
mean you stop
crying.
Jesus shows us
that it's okay
to grieve,
to wail,
to question,
and to cry out
at the searing
pain of feeling
forgotten,
forsaken.
But because of
his grief,
we know ours
will eventually
come to an end,
as his did.
Psalm 22
ends,
and Jesus
would have
likely,
well,
he would have
memorized the
whole thing
and known it
as well as
the beginning.
And it goes
like this,
all the rich
of the earth
will feast
and worship.
All who go
down to the dust
will kneel
before him,
those who cannot
keep themselves
alive.
Posterity will
serve him.
Future generations
will be told
about the Lord.
They will
proclaim his
righteousness,
declaring to a
people yet
unborn,
he has
done it.
Jesus'
lament
wasn't,
that was not
his last word
on this earth
as a human.
Because of his
lament and the
scorn he faced,
he could later
declare,
it is finished.
I invite you
to stand for a
minute or so
of silent prayer.
Father,
we know there's
nothing necessarily
wrong with
Hallmark cards
and other greeting
cards,
but we thank and
praise you that you
have not called us
to be Hallmark
people,
but Bible
people.
We give you
thanks and praise
that your word
is just filled
with promises
too wild and
crazy for ever
to be made
by a Hallmark
card.
And at the same
time,
your word
touches the
very depths
and hardest
parts of human
experience,
the hardest
parts of fear
and anxiety
and shame,
that your word,
Father,
covers the whole
range and gamut
of human emotion
and human
experience.
And so,
Father,
always mindful
of Jesus
and what he did
for us on the
cross,
in light of his
death upon the
cross and his
resurrection,
help us to be,
to read and
know your Bible.
And help us,
Father,
to so read and
know your Bible
and in that
light,
understand Jesus
and his death
upon the cross
better and better
and better.
We ask,
Father,
that you help
us to have
minds that are
furnished by
your word,
saturated by
your word,
are purified
and healed
by your word.
Father,
make us Bible
people as
your son was.
And we ask
this in Jesus'
name.
Amen.
Please be
seated for
the fifth
word.
The fifth
word comes
from John
19,
verse 28.
After this,
Jesus,
knowing that
all was now
finished,
said to
fulfill the
scripture,
I thirst.
Exhausted,
dehydrated,
and losing
blood,
Jesus surely
would have been
thirsty.
I can only
imagine how
parched he
would have
been.
But as I
sat with
these words,
what came to
mind was the
powerful imagery
of thirstiness
elsewhere in the
Bible.
Israelites
wandering in
the wilderness,
testing God,
and God
ultimately
splitting open
the rock at
Horeb to
quench their
thirst.
Take care,
lest you forget
the Lord your
God,
who brought
you out of
the land of
Egypt,
out of the
house of
slavery,
who led you
through the
great and
terrifying
wilderness
with its
fiery serpents
and scorpions
and thirsty
ground,
where there was
no water,
who brought you
water out of
the flinty
rock.
The thirst of
Samson after
killing a
thousand Philistines,
again quenched
by God,
splitting open
the earth.
And Samson was
very thirsty,
and he called
upon the Lord
and said,
You have
granted this
great salvation
by the hand
of your servant,
and shall I
now die of
thirst and fall
into the hands
of the uncircumcised?
And God split
open the hollow
place that is
at Lehi,
and water
came out of
it.
And when
Samson drank,
his spirit
returned and
he revived.
The sons of
Korah in
Psalm 42
crying out,
As a deer
pants for
flowing streams,
so pants
my soul
for you,
O God.
My soul
thirsts for
God,
for the
living God.
When shall
I come
and appear
before God?
The words
of Jesus
himself in
the Beatitudes,
blessed are
those who
hunger and
thirst for
righteousness,
for they
shall be
satisfied.
And of
course,
Jesus'
promise of
living water
in his
conversation
with the
Samaritan
woman.
Jesus said
to the
woman,
Everyone who
drinks of
Jacob's well
will be
thirsty again,
but whoever
drinks of
the water
that I
will give
him or
her will
never be
thirsty
again.
In these
passages,
we see
God's
provision,
we see
answers to
prayer in
times of
thirstiness,
we see
God's
people
thirsting
after him,
and ultimately
we see
Jesus promising
a spring of
water welling
up to
eternal life.
So,
what do I
make of
Jesus hanging
on the
cross,
thirsty and
about to
die?
I see
the Christ
physically
thirsty,
yet unlike
for the
Israelites
and Samson,
there is
no spring
of fresh
water.
That day
there will
be no
revival.
There is
simply a
sponge of
sour wine,
one final
swallow to
fulfill the
prophecy at
Psalm 69
21.
They gave
me poison
for food,
and for my
thirst they
gave me sour
wine to
drink.
I see
the Christ,
thirsty
for God
and his
righteousness,
the only
one who
lived a
perfect life.
I see
the paradox
of Jesus
having lived
his whole
life doing
the will
of the
Father and
living in
absolute
harmony with
him,
willingly
accepting to
come and
appear before
God to
die a
criminal and
a sinner.
And I
ultimately
see the
Christ for
the first
time,
cut off
and forsaken
by the
Father,
freely
absorbing my
sin,
your sin,
the vileness
of everything
we have
ever done
wrong,
willingly
submitting to
God's judgment
for that
wrongdoing.
Two thousand
years later,
it can be
easy to gloss
over what
actually happened
that day on
the cross.
We can see
it as some
abstract thing,
a sleight of
hand, in
which we
magically come
out justified
on the other
side.
Yet it
involved the
immeasurable
pain of a
father sacrificing
his only and
beloved son.
There was no
last-minute
substitution of
a ram.
It involved
the father
watching the
son suffer
beyond our
comprehension.
We're not
talking just
physical pain,
but the
crushing
weight, the
crushing
conviction of
our sin.
And it
involved the
father restraining
himself as
the son cried
out, I
thirst.
Desperate for
water, no
doubt, but
more desperate
to remain in
unbroken
relationship with
the father.
The cry goes
unanswered
that day.
And ultimately,
it involved the
father's wrath,
falling on that
beloved son,
not because the
son deserved
it, but because
they both loved
us so much.
Why?
Why would the
father and the
son do this?
Because they
understood it was
the only way that
you and I get to
drink the living
water, so that
when we die, we
can confidently say,
I thirst, and
know that our
thirst will be
satisfied.
I invite you to
stand for a minute
or so of silent
prayer.
Father, we
give you thanks
and praise that
you have not
removed from
human hearts a
longing and
desire and a
yearning to
know you.
You know,
Father, that
there is a part
deep within each
of us that,
just like Adam
and Eve hid
from you in the
garden, so we
would rather have
terrible fig leaves
around us and
hide in bushes
than be present
with you.
you.
But even in the
midst of that
very important
and deep-rooted
part of us, you
have left within
our hearts a
longing for you.
And we give you
thanks and praise
that on the
cross, your
son opened that
pathway that we
might know you
and that we
might have our
thirst for you
quenched, our
hunger for you
satisfied, that
all our longings
and yearnings
ultimately can
come to fruition,
not because of
our great longings
and yearnings, but
because of your
great love for us
and what your
son has done.
We ask, Father,
that you fan
into flame within
us ever deeper
and more full a
longing and
yearning for that
day when in
Jesus we will
see, Father, you
in the company
and the presence
of the Holy
Spirit.
And we ask
these things in
Jesus' name.
Amen.
We'll be seated
as we hear
Scott bring us
reflections on
the sixth word.
It is finished
in the
thirtieth
verse of the
nineteenth chapter
of the Gospel
of John.
John writes,
When he had
received the
drink, Jesus
said, it is
finished.
With that, he
bowed his head
and gave up
his spirit.
John, the
Gospel writer,
uses the
Greek word
tetelestai for
the phrase, it
is finished.
And this
definitely does
convey the
idea of
something being
finished or
completed and
it was sometimes
a phrase used
in the ancient
world to reflect
the payment of
a debt or the
payment of a
bill of some
kind.
But in
thinking about
this a little
bit further,
and as others
have mentioned,
we probably
think of Jesus
speaking from
the cross in
Aramaic, even
though John was
writing in Greek.
And so what
would it have
been like in
Aramaic?
As best as we
can tell, it
was probably a
phrase like
mashalim, which
is similar in
meaning to the
Greek, but it
was a phrase
specifically used
to indicate the
completion of a
sacrifice.
It certainly
had other
meanings,
completion,
perfection,
peace, and
these could
relate to the
fulfillment of
a plan or a
debt, but
principally it
was about the
ritual end of
a sacrifice.
In the most
basic sense,
over the years
Christians have
thought that this
phrase, it is
finished, was
Jesus saying
that he had
completed his
earthly mission,
paid for the
sins of
humanity, and
fulfilled
prophecy.
Sometimes one
of these aspects
is given more
weight than
others, and
it's worth
considering each
one of them
briefly, and
of course they
do interrelate
as well.
First, it
clearly represents
the end of his
earthly mission.
mission.
The important
point here, I
believe, is that
it was a mission
that he pursued
and controlled
of his own
volition and
will, consistent
with the
Father.
So, he
knew that he
was completing
a mission to
pay for the
sins of
humanity, and
this was
something that
was pursued in
a structured way
that he was
well aware
of.
He was not
an unwilling
victim.
He had set
his face to
go toward
Jerusalem, as
Luke says in
his gospel, and
he knew what
was involved in
the physical
completion of
his mission.
And the
second element,
briefly worth
noting, was
that he was to
be the
sacrifice for
the sins of
humanity.
The symbolism
and the
concepts here
have been
probably
elaborated more
than some of
the other
meanings that
can be
associated with
this phrase.
His death
basically atones
for the sins
of humanity,
and this is
often referred to
with phrases
like substitutionary
atonement,
although we
can often
think of this
in highly
personalized
ways as well
in terms of
our own
experience,
rather than
theological
reasoning.
Third, and
underlying all
of the final
words, and
not just this
one certainly,
Christ has
fulfilled the
prophecies from
the Old or
the First
Testament, or
the Tanakh, if
you prefer, just
about every step
of the approach
to Jerusalem,
his triumphs,
his trials,
and his
crucifixion, is
rooted in the
prophecies of
the Old
Testament,
principally parts
of the Psalms
and Isaiah, but
certainly other
books are
involved as
well.
Probably the
most, to me
anyway, vivid
and striking
illustration of
this from a
symbolic perspective
is that prior
to saying it
is finished, he
does say, I
thirst, and he
did slake his
thirst by drinking
of the sour
wine.
And symbolically,
this really
represents the
drinking of the
cup of God's
wrath as a
way of consuming
responsibility for
the sins of the
human race.
And once that
is done, then the
whole process of
atonement in its
immediate sense has
been completed.
and this is a
symbolism that
occurs in some
other parts of
the scripture as
well.
Finally, it's
worth noting,
apart from
specific words
and meanings,
that the
tenses and the
structure of the
writing in John's
gospel at this
point suggest
that this is
not just
something that
has happened
once, this is
something that
has been
structured in the
past to happen.
It's occurring
now.
It echoes into
the future.
And the salvation
provided by the
crucifixion and
death of Christ is
an ongoing thing.
And it is the
completion of the
part of his work
that will precede
his later return
as a judge.
I invite you to
stand for a minute
or so of prayer.
Thank you.
Father, we give
you thanks and
praise that you
are a God who
speaks and we
ask that you
would help us to
be a people who
listen.
We give you
thanks and
praise that you
are a God who
has made promises
and has kept
them.
And we ask,
Father, that you
would make us a
people who hears
your promises,
remembers them,
and trust that
you will keep
them, both those
who you have
already kept and
those that you
will keep in our
lives and in our
future.
And we thank and
praise you,
Father, that you
have provided a
way for there to
be, for people
like us to be part
of your new
covenant.
We thank you,
Father, that
because Jesus
drank the cup of
your wrath on
our behalf, we
can spiritually
feed and drink
on him in the
Lord's Supper.
And so, Father, we
ask that you would
help us to feed
and drink on
Christ.
And we ask this
in Jesus' name.
Amen.
Invite you to be
seated as Samuel
reflects on the
seventh and last
word.
The seventh word
is from Luke
23, 46.
Then Jesus,
calling out with a
loud voice,
said, Father,
into your hands
I commit my
spirit.
And having said
this, he breathed
his last.
These were the
final words Jesus
spoke on the
cross.
At this point,
Jesus had already
been through so
much.
He was betrayed,
flogged,
humiliated in
front of
everyone,
and finally
nailed to the
cross.
From a human
perspective,
everything seemed
to be in utter
despair,
with no light,
no hope,
only complete
crushing defeat.
But even in that
moment,
even with his
last breath,
Jesus did not
surrender to
bitterness or
despair.
fear.
He did not
turn away from
God, nor did
he speak in
anger.
Instead, he
said with a
loud voice,
Father, into
your hands I
commit my
spirit.
Even in
suffering, even
in uncertainty,
even in
death, Jesus
chose to trust
God.
God, he
placed his
very life
into the
Father's
hand.
This is a
picture of
complete faith.
Jesus
sets an
example for
all of us.
He reminds
us that
even in our
most difficult
situations, he
is with us.
Everything
is, nothing
is beyond
God's
control, and
that we
can trust
him even
in our
most difficult
moments.
Some of
us here
today have
been through
or may
even now be
walking through
very difficult
situations.
We may
feel trapped,
without hope,
as if we
were thrown
in extreme
darkness,
with no
light, and
absolutely no
way out.
We may not
understand why
things are
happening,
we may
feel confused,
afraid, or
even defeated.
But because
of the
example Jesus
set on the
cross, we
are reminded
that we are
not alone,
and we are
not forgotten.
God is
with us.
So on this
Good Friday,
as we remember
the suffering
of Jesus,
we also
remember his
trust.
And maybe
we can ask
ourselves,
can we also
surrender our
lives into
God's hands,
not only when
it's easy,
but also in our
darkest moments?
Trusting God
doesn't mean we
have all the
answers.
It means we
know the one
who does.
trust us.
And because
of that, it
gives us
strength to
hold on.
We trust
God not
because everything
is going
well, but
because he
is faithful.
to stand
for a minute
or so of
silent prayer.
Father,
we commend
into your
hands the
persecuted
church
throughout the
world.
We think
in particular,
Father,
lamentably,
there's too
many countries
for me to
name,
but we
think in
particular of
the persecuted
church in
Iran,
in Pakistan,
in China,
in northern
Nigeria,
and as I've
said,
Father,
too many other
places to
list,
but we
commend these
our brothers
and sisters
in Christ
into your
hands.
We ask,
Father,
that you
would continue
to give
them strength
to stand
in very
hard times,
to kneel
in prayer
in very
hard times.
We thank
you for
their faith,
and
we ask,
Father,
for their
tormentors
and persecutors
that you
would turn
their hearts
away from
persecution
and violence
and turn
their hearts
to Christ.
We also
remember before
you at this
time,
Father,
the missionaries
that we
support around
the world.
We commend
into your
hands Trish
in Uganda,
Kogala
Ministries
also in
Uganda,
Norm and
Audrey in
Angola,
Judah and
Jesse amongst
Venezuelan
refugees in
Colombia,
for Brian
in Taiwan,
for Samir
amongst the
Derry-speaking
refugees and
Derry-speaking
people in
Afghanistan.
Father,
we commend
these missionaries
into your
hands.
We commend
their locations
as well.
May you,
at this
time,
distant from
family,
may they
rejoice in
their Christian
brothers and
sisters in
these places.
May you
bless them
in all
things physical
and spiritual.
And,
Father,
we commend
ourselves
into your
hands.
In the
words of
Samuel,
who has
just spoken,
we ask,
Father,
that whether
in good
times or
in bad,
in times
of our
height of
joy and
in our
times of
deepest
sorrow,
that you
would help
us day by
day to
commend
ourselves
into your
hands.
Trusting that
you walk
with us and
that the
end of our
story has
already been
revealed when
we put our
faith and
trust in
Jesus.
So we ask
all these
things in
the name
of Jesus,
your Son
and our
Savior.
Amen.
Thank you.