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.