Even though we may try, we don't quite grasp the horrors of crucifixion. Of course, this is a good thing since it's not a part of our everyday lives. When we travel to the outskirts of town, we don't have to wonder if we might pass by a graphic crucifixion in progress. And so, when we attempt to capture Jesus' death in art and movies, we can't help but sanitize it a bit.
The Romans didn't invent crucifixion, but they perfected it. Theologian Mike Bird says:
To put it bluntly, crucifixion was the attempt to manufacture a temporary hell for its intended victim. Death by crucifixion denied the humanity of its victim and even destroyed something of the humanity of those who had become capable of inflicting it on another human being.
Crucifixion represents the darkest parts of the human imagination. As Mike notes, a crucifixion affected not only its victims but also the people who carried out this dreadful event. It makes a mockery out of God's desire to have humans love and serve one another the way Jesus did. And that is why it is amazing that Jesus chose the cross.
Frederick Buechner says that the Gospel is part tragedy, part comedy. The cross was an instrument of terror and shame. By subjecting himself to it, Jesus was shaming the very thing that brings shame. This is the comedy of the Gospel: redeeming the world through a symbol of destruction. Jesus was allowing the inhumanity of the cross to do its worse so that we could become human again.
And as Jesus hung there experiencing unbearable pain, he continued to love others. Jesus used his final breaths to care for his mother and friend. This is Jesus' third statement from the cross:
Standing near the cross were Jesus' mother, and his mother's sister, Mary (the wife of Clopas), and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, "Dear woman, here is your son." And he said to this disciple, "Here is your mother." And from then on this disciple took her into his home." (John 19:25-27, NLT)
Can you imagine Mary's anguish as she watches her son die a gruesome death? Years earlier, when Jesus was only a few weeks old, a man named Simeon foresaw this event. He warned Mary, "a sword will pierce your own soul" (Luke 2:42). Now the time has come, and I'm sure Mary was crushed. But instead of turning away, she bravely remains with her suffering son.
In a culture where widows were vulnerable, Jesus knew Mary would need someone to provide for her. And so he entrusts her to the care of "the disciple he loved," which many believe to be John. It's tempting to imagine Mary as an older woman standing by the cross, but she was only in her mid-40s. As she grew older, it would be John's responsibility to continue to care for her.
But this new mother-son relationship would be beneficial to Mary and John. Jesus made it a point to commission them both. John was one of the youngest disciples, if not the youngest. He was probably in his late teens or early 20s. The days that followed Jesus' death and resurrection would be a whirlwind of emotions. John needed someone wise to lean on, and now he had that in his new mother, Mary.
These words from Jesus remind me that we need each other. The way we care for the people in our life matters to God. The way we allow people to care for us matters too. It takes humility to care for others and to be cared for.
But (and I'm just thinking out loud), I wonder—did caring for Mary ever "slow down" John's ministry? We know John was a leader in the early church, but maybe he wasn't as free to travel as Peter and Paul were. Perhaps he had to move a little slower with Mary by his side. Did this frustrate him? Or did he come to relish the experience, knowing that this was the ministry he was called to by Jesus?
I think there's a temptation to see the people in our life as a stumbling block to productivity. "If everyone would just leave me alone, then I can get more done for God!" We can't wait for our obligations to end so our life can "start." But the people we view as interruptions may be opportunities to live out the Gospel.
Who has God entrusted you to care for?
It could be a child who requires you to give everything you've got for the next 18 years and beyond.
It could be a sick family member who needs your help, and now your life has been completely turned upside down. This isn't what you had in mind for this season of your life. You had bigger dreams.
Or maybe God has entrusted you with the barista at Starbucks for the next 30 seconds. A smile and a kind word can make all the difference before getting on with your busy day.
"Dear woman, here is your son. ... Here is your mother."
Jesus was about to usher in the church and spread his message to all the ends of the earth. John could have seen Mary as a barrier to his role in that. Instead, he and Mary saw it as an opportunity to begin living out the vision of the church. John had to move a bit slower now, but his ministry would be better for it.
This week, let's consider who God has entrusted us to care for. And let's have the humility to allow others to care for us.
The people we see as interruptions may be the people God is using to shape us into who we were created to be.
Questions to Ponder:
What do you think Jesus meant with this statement from the cross? How do you think John and Mary's life changed after this?
Who are some people God has given you to care for? How is God using them to shape you?
—
P.S. If you’d like to support my writing, you can buy me a sweet tea to keep me caffeinated and it would be much appreciated.
Seven Words From The Cross, Part II: "Today You Will Be With Me"
A few days ago, I received a gift in the mail from a man named Wade. It was a beautifully painted rock:
I was touched by Wade's kindness. The painting brings to mind one of my favorite stories about Jesus. On the day of his death, Jesus was crucified between two criminals. This scene happens to include Jesus' second statement from the cross:
One of the criminals hanging beside him scoffed, "So you're the Messiah, are you? Prove it by saving yourself—and us, too, while you're at it!"
But the other criminal protested, "Don't you fear God even when you have been sentenced to die? We deserve to die for our crimes, but this man hasn't done anything wrong." Then he said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your Kingdom."
And Jesus replied, "I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:39-43, NLT)
I've written about Jesus' encounter with the criminal in both my devotional books. To me, it is the ultimate "Nobody Left Out" story. There are so many angles we can look at it from. But today, I want to zero in on Jesus' assurance that this broken man would soon be with him in paradise.
As Christians, I think we need a better theology of heaven. We often view heaven as a place God will whisk us away to so we can escape this sinking ship of a world. In reality, God will one day bring heaven to earth and make all things new. It will be a great day, but what about in the interim? What happens after we die but before God sets all things right? Jesus tells this criminal he will be with him in paradise. Paul echos this when he says, "We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord." (2 Corinthians 5:8)
But what makes "paradise" paradise? Is it a permanent suite in a fancy hotel on a luxury island? Or is paradise simply being in the presence of Jesus?
And if it is... Is that what we long for?
It can be so easy to view Jesus as a means to an end. Even when we talk about the afterlife, we often see Jesus as the way to get us into the "good place." But what is it about the "good place" that makes it a good place to be?
Imagine if I looked at my wife after we got married and said, "I'm so glad we're married because now I get to move into a new house and open all the wedding gifts." (Don't worry, I didn't do that, even though we got some sweet gifts!)
Somewhere along the line, we started doing something similar with Jesus. We've made heaven the biggest "benefit" to having a relationship with Jesus. But really, the biggest benefit to having a relationship with Jesus is Jesus himself!
Joni Eareckson Tada has been paralyzed for decades due to a diving accident when she was a teenager. She was asked what she most looked forward to in heaven. Her answer amazed me:
I can't wait to be clothed in righteousness. Without a trace of sin. True, it will be wonderful to stand, stretch, and reach to the sky, but it will be more wonderful to offer praise that is pure. ... My heart will join with yours and bubble over with effervescent adoration. We will finally be able to fellowship fully with the Father and the Son.
The thing Joni longs for most about heaven isn't to be free of pain. It's to be free of the sin that causes pain to others. Is that what I long for? On most days, it's not.
Sometimes people will say to me, "I can't wait to see you in heaven with your new body." (To which I reply, "Likewise." Kidding.) I understand what they are saying. They can't wait to see my body restored and free of cerebral palsy. And you know what? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited about that too. One of my dreams is to play the piano. I can't wait for my friend Marco to give me piano lessons in the new earth. But I hope I'm more excited about being with Jesus.
This month, I've been reading the book of Deuteronomy. Deuteronomy documents Moses' final speech to the Israelites before they cross over to the Promised Land. He won't be going with them, and so he reminds them to cling to God with all they've got.
"You must fear the Lord your God and worship him and cling to him. Your oaths must be in his name alone." (Deuteronomy 10:20, NLT)
The thief on the cross clung to Jesus desperately. He had no hope left, but then Jesus made him a promise. Crucifixion was a slow, excruciating death. As the painful hours ticked by, the thief clung to that promise. But more than that, I'd imagine he clung to the Promise Maker himself.
"I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise."
If paradise was simply a cold, metal chair beside Jesus, would I consider it paradise? Or would I be expecting the 5-star hotel in the sky?
This week, let's discover what it means to cling to Jesus.
Like the thief on the cross, we may find—in Jesus—a moment of hope in the pain.
Questions to Ponder:
What do you think Jesus meant with this statement from the cross? How has "Christian pop culture" shaped your theology of heaven?
Where do you need a moment of hope in the middle of pain? This week, what are some ways you can cling to Jesus?
—
P.S. If you’d like to support my writing, you can buy me a sweet tea to keep me caffeinated and it would be much appreciated.
Seven Words From The Cross, Part I: "Father, Forgive Them"
This week, we began the season of Lent (not "Lint"—sorry, I always have to make that joke!). Lent is the 40 days (technically 46 if you include Sundays) between Ash Wednesday and Easter. It's a reminder that we cannot have the joyousness of Easter without the sorrow of the cross.
Over these next few weeks, we're going to look at Jesus' "Seven Words From the Cross." These are seven statements Jesus made while experiencing the excruciating pain of crucifixion. Jesus hung on the cross for about six hours, so he probably spoke other words as well. But these are the seven the gospel writers captured for us. John Stott notes, "Each is an expression either of [Jesus's] great love for us, or of his dreadful work of sin bearing, or of his final triumph and victory."
This won't be an in-depth study, as I'm neck-deep in editing my upcoming Jonah book, and writing time is limited. Instead, I'll try to pick one facet of each statement for us to reflect on. We'll begin this week by looking at Jesus' plea of forgiveness for his executioners:
Two others, both criminals, were led out to be executed with him. When they came to a place called The Skull, they nailed him to the cross. And the criminals were also crucified—one on his right and one on his left.
Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing." And the soldiers gambled for his clothes by throwing dice. (Luke 23:32-34)
We might expect Jesus to forgive his enemies. While it wouldn't be easy, he commanded his followers to do the same, and now he was living it out himself. But today, I want to focus on the second part of his statement. Did they really "not know what they were doing"?
The religious leaders seemed to know what they were doing when they kidnapped Jesus under cover of night, held a mock trial, and beat him to a pulp.
Pilate seemed to know what he was doing when he gave in to the demands to have an innocent man killed. He even tried to wash his hands of the whole event!
The Roman soldiers seemed to know what they were doing when they decided to have a bit of fun and mock Jesus by crowning him with painful thorns. So this guy really thinks he's a king, huh?
Peter and the rest of the gang seemed to know what they were doing when they cut and ran as their friend was arrested. They knew they didn't want to meet whatever fate Jesus was about to meet.
And the crowd of onlookers seemed to know what they were doing when they demanded Barabbas to be set free and Jesus executed in his place.
Yes, of course they knew what they were doing!
But in another sense, they didn't know what they were doing. Not really. How could they? The idea of God allowing his own creation to torture and kill him so they can be redeemed is pretty "out there."
Three days later, when a dead man started walking around, some got a glimpse into this understanding. But it would still take a while to understand what it all really meant.
What about the things we do to hurt other people? Do we understand what we are doing? Yes. But also no.
We humans know how to hurt each other. We know the exact words to say to cut someone deep. We act in selfish ways, looking to maximize our own comfort even at the expense of others. But it's so easy to fool ourselves into thinking we are "good people."
Thankfully, God has given us gifts to make peace with each other in this life. Gifts like forgiveness, reconciliation, confession, and community. But even with these beautiful things, it's still hard to grasp the hurt we cause others. We know this is true because it's hard to convey how devasting the wound is when people hurt us. Even when they are sorry and take steps to repair the damage, the pain doesn't immediately disappear.
This is the tension we are invited to embrace during Lent. Yes, we are fully responsible for our sin. But also, we cannot comprehend the full extent of it. We are so good at sinning that we don't even know we're doing it half the time! We need to be saved from the brokenness of the world, even as we are the agents of it.
We can read the account of Jesus' horrific execution and judge the mockers. We think if we were in the crowd, we would have responded differently. Maybe. But probably not.
One of my favorite modern hymns is How Deep The Father's Love for Us. One verse in particular that always moves me is:
Behold the man upon a cross
My sin upon His shoulders
Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
Ash Wednesday was a couple of days ago. On that day, many Christians wear ashes on their foreheads to represent death and repentance. It kicks off a season of reflecting on our brokenness and looking forward to a day when we will be set free from it.
"Father, forgive them, for they don't know what they are doing."
Looking at our own sin and how we hurt others is not fun. But this week, let's accept the invitation to examine our brokenness. It's a scary prayer to pray, but let's ask God to give us a deeper understanding of what we are doing.
If the examination were to end there, our grief would overwhelm us. We can only go there because we know this journey leads to an empty tomb on Easter morning. Sadness and pain do not get the final word.
Questions to Ponder:
What do you think Jesus meant with this statement from the cross? How can you embrace the tension of taking full responsibility for your sin but also not fully comprehending the extent of it?
Is there anyone you have hurt that you need to reconcile with? Think about the steps you can take to do that in this season of mourning.
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P.S. If you are looking for more reflections to read this Lenten season, check out my book Jesus & the Way of Sorrows. It's a journey with Jesus through the final 18 hours of his life.