Hewas the king of glory, the Morning Star, the image of the invisible God, thefirst born of all creation—by Him all things were created in heaven and onearth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers orauthorities. All things werecreated through Him and for Him. He was before all things, and in Him all things held together. In Him all the fullness of God waspleased to dwell.
And yet, He wasborn for this moment. It was forthis humiliation, it was for this shameful injustice, it was for this torturethat He came into the world. Hewas made incarnate so that His holy brow might be crowned with thorns. He was made in the likeness of a servantso that He might be mocked by the very ones He had come to seek and save. He left His throne in glory so that Hisback might bear the stripes for our iniquity, so that His hands and feet andside might be pierced for our transgressions.
Though Pilatehad acquitted Him three times, He was cruelly, unjustly, ignominiouslypunished, even to death on the cross. He who had obeyed perfectly, He who bore no sin, He who had only loved,only healed, only reconciled was wounded on our behalf. Though He was very God of very God,begotten not made, of one essence with the Father, He was crucified for us andfor our salvation.
On the cross Hecried out seven times—with words of redemption, covenant, substitution,suffering, triumph, and resolution. But His first cry was a prayer of forgiveness: “Father forgive them forthey know not what they do.”
Ever selfless, ever concerned for others, in His greatest agony,in His greatest humiliation, He interceded for His torturers, Hismurderers. He had taught Hisdisciples, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them thathate you, pray for them which spitefully use and persecute you.”
It was ofcourse a prayer the Father heard—and answered. Just fifty days later, on the day of Pentecost, a greatforgiveness, a great salvation swept across that very city, piercing throughthe hardened hearts of those very sinners.
“O sacred head,sore wounded, with grief and shame weighed down. O kingly head surrounded with thorns thine only crown. How pale thou art with anguish, withsore abuse and scorn, how does that visage languish which once was bright asmorn. Thy grief and bitter passionwere all for sinners gain. Mine,mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain.”
The second cryof Jesus from the cross was one of redemption. A common criminal on one side, a common criminal on theother. The God of wonders beyondour galaxy between them. Bothheard Christ’s earlier cry of forgiveness—one railed in derision, the otherrepented.
Is it ever toolate to say “I am under condemnation justly?” Is it ever too late to cry out to Jesus, “Remember me?” Is it ever too late to possess a holyfear of God, a heart to do right, and an apprehension of the Kingdom? The experience of the thief on thecross tells us that no matter what we may have done, no matter how long we mayhave delayed, while we yet have breath there is hope. And the words of Jesus in response to him only confirm sucha hope of redemption.
Lord, when Your kingdom comes, rememberme. Thus spake the dying lips todying ears. O faith, which in thatdarkest hour could see, the promised glory of the far off years. “Jesus, refuge of theweary, object of the Spirit’s love, Fountain in life’s desert dreary, Saviorfrom the world above.”
The third cryof Jesus from the cross was one of covenant. The huddle of grieving disciples at the horrific scenebecame His concern, the object of His affection. Forgetting His own agony, He reminds them of their solace.
Earlier when Hehad prayed for them He did not ask that they be taken out of this world—ratherthat they be kept from the evil one, that they be sanctified in truth, and thatthey be one.
He had taughtthem of the beauty, comfort, and substance of covenant community. He had taught them to bear oneanother’s burdens. He had taughtthem what it meant to commune with one another, to have fellowship with oneanother, to be friends and not just have friends, to know the bonds of love. Now even as Simeon’s prophecy isfulfilled—that Mary’s soul would be pierced, troubled, and acquainted withgrief—He beckons the disciples to partake of the blessings of the covenant; Hebeckons them to love one another in such a fashion that all men might know thatthey are His disciples indeed.
He did notleave us here, forsaken, alone, and sore pressed. He gave right freely Spirit, Word, and covenant rest. In brother, sister, son, and mother, Hecalls us to be the church and bear up one another. “Man of Sorrows! Whata name! For the Son of God, who came. Ruined sinners to reclaim. Hallelujah!What a Savior!”
The fourth cryof Jesus from the cross was one of substitution. Sin cannot simply be excused. God cannot simply wave off rebellion, perversity, andeffrontery. Transgressions must beatoned for. Iniquities must bepaid for. The wrath of God must beappeased. Propitiation must bemade.
So, He who knewno sin, was made sin for us. Hewho had known perfect fellowship with the Father clothed Himself in the filthof our concupiscence and lasciviousness—and thus became anathema, separatedfrom God that we might not be, forsaken that we might never be. The Lord laid on Him the iniquity of usall—just as Isaiah had prophesied. As Paul later would write, He became a curse for us.
He prayed forforgiveness for His tormentors—a forgiveness they did not deserve. He beckoned the thief at his side toenter into a reward the thief could never have earned. He offered His mother and His disciplesthe hope of a solace they could never have hoped for before. He called upon them—He calls upon us—tobelieve the unbelievable, to receive the inconceivable. And all because He has suffered for us,paid our debt, suffered for our crimes, was our substitute.
“Hark that crythat peals aloud, upward through the whelming cloud. You, the Father’s only son, You, His own anointed one. Yetnow, You’re forsaken? Twas me,twas me that placed You there, twas me that should’ve pierced the air. Twas me that should’ve borne thatgrief—yet twas You forsaken instead of me: Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani.”
Every aspect ofHis incarnation, life, ministry, and substitutionary death was prophesiedbeforehand. Hundreds of messianicprophesies were fulfilled at his birth, through His healings and miracles, andby his rejection at the hand of the Sanhedran. But the prophesies of His death were perhaps the mostexplicit.
The greatmessianic hymn, Psalm 22 confirmed long before, His suffering, His torture, andHis humiliation: that His garments would be divided by gamblers, that His holyName would be mocked by evildoers, that they would gloat over His sorrowfulmien, that His hands and feet would be pierced. And that He would be poured out like water, that Hisstrength would be dried up, that His tongue would stick to His jaws, that hewould be as dust.
He who was thefount of goodness and truth, who offered living water that we might never againthirst; He who makes streams spring from our inmost being, who quenches everydry and dusty place; He now thirsts that we may ever be slaked. “His are the thousand sparkling rills,that from a thousand fountains burst, and fill with music all the hills, andyet He says, I thirst.”
He came forthis. He lived to die. And now, after His long agony, the workwas done. Finished. Completed. Nothing more to be done. Nothing was lacking.
Through all theages men and nations have attempted some kind of an encore, some sort of anaddendum, a coda, something that might round out the work of Christ—but, Hisdeclaration is clear: there is nothing to add, no further steps need be taken. This is the Gospel, the Good News the angelsannounced so long before, the glad tidings proclaimed by prophets and sages: allthe requirements are now satisfied, the promise is fulfilled, substitution ismade, justification is done, imputation is applied, redemption is accomplished:It is finished!
“O perfect lifeof love! All, all is finished now. All that He left His throne above to do for us below. No work is left undone of all theFather willed; His toils and sorrows one by one, the Scriptures havefulfilled. In perfect love Hedies; for me He dies; for me! Oall-atoning sacrifice. I cling byfaith to thee.”
Seven times thedying savior spoke. Once He hadmade a universal declaration that He had completed the task He had set out todo. Three times He addressed men:to the thief He promised Paradise; to His disciples He proffered covenant; tothis tormenters he professed His agony. Three times He prayed to His Father: once in intercession for Hismurderers, once in a mournful plaint of separation, and now commending theresolution of it all.
For more thantwelve hours Had been in the hands of men. But now He was again in the Father’s hands. The victory was won. Soon even death would lose its sting.
Sing my tonguehow glorious battle, glorious victory became: and above the cross, His trophy,tell the triumph and the fame: “Man of Sorrows! What a name;
For the Son of God,who came;
Ruined sinners to reclaim;
Hallelujah! What a Savior! Bearing shame and scoffing rude; In myplace condemned He stood;
Sealed my pardon with His blood; Hallelujah! What aSavior! When He comes, ourglorious King; All His ransomed home to bring; Then anew His song we’ll sing; Hallelujah!What a Savior!”
