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via emaildon’t think we’ll ever really know (John 19)
October 5th, 2009doing a sermon on the crucifixion is really hard for me. i’m reminded of a writer who once described what happened to him in seminary. he said that when he entered seminary, he would read the gospel accounts of the passion and would cry– it moved his soul that much. by the time he left seminary, he could read the same accounts, ponder all the different theological theories of the atonement, think through the different writer’s perspectives– but there were no more tears. Jesus’ death was now an idea to be debated, not a event the moved the heart. sometimes i feel the same way.
what’s interesting is that a couple years ago when the “passion of the Christ” was produced, it kind of rekindled in me the remembrance of what an amazing thing the cross really is. maybe seeing it on the screen was what did it, or maybe visualizing the brutality of what happened to Jesus was what moved my soul. all i know is that i cried many tears during that film.
problem is– i’m not sure i cried for the right reason. for me it was seeing the physical brutality of the scourging and crucifixion that brought the tears. it all seemed so hideously unjust. strange how the gospel writers pretty much ignore the physical aspects of the cross (except maybe for Jesus’ words “I thirst”). for them and the other writers of the NT, the real horror of the cross was that a holy God would have to encounter that which is unholy (sin). i just don’t think we will every really know what that was like for Jesus. as 2 corinthians says, “God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us”. to suffer the judgment for the sins of the world, to feel the abandonment of the Father, to “taste” hell for me. can’t say i’ll ever know what that really was like.
Rebecca Rubeor said:
How does that song go? “I’ll never know how much it cost, to see my sin upon that cross. ” I can’t possibly fathom it. All I can say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you Jesus.”
Scott Rowland said:
I have a tough time comprehending the concept you mention, the “real horror” of the cross, I think because I just cannot relate in the slightest to something completely holy. Having been born into sin, it’s really difficult to understand the real atrocity of taking on sin when you have none.
What does stir me, however, is the last line you mention where Christ had to feel “the abandonment of the Father”. We as Christians always like to say that God gives us our reason for living and gives our lives a purpose. Then Jesus, one with the Father for eternity, knowing on a far deeper level than we ever will how loving and omnipotent the Father really his, had to be completely abandoned by Him. I remember as a child getting lost in the mall and really freaking out, feeling totally lost and that I might never see my mom again. Multiply that feeling exponentially, and I can have a renewed appreciation for what Jesus had to go through. And the real kicker of it is, he chose to do this - for us.
Muffy Tarcold said:
During a brief season in my life God allowed me to experience episodes of what it would be like to live without the presence of God. Some people call these kinds of episodes panic attacks. I recall them as stark terror like nothing I could ever find the words to describe. The impulse to run was overwhelming but run from what? The total absence of God. Run to what? I couldn’t find Him anywhere. I often remember that time as a revelation of what hell will really be like.
But to be a blameless son and experience the Father’s total withdrawal? Incomprehensible.
Noelle said:
I don’t know if this applies or not, but somewhere I read about visualizing an exchange with Jesus my sins for his sinlessness. I looked over and saw two pieces of paper. One was spanking white, not a mark on it. The other was darkened by the ink from the printer. I kind of visualized that the written on paper was me with all my sins and I was asked to exchange that with the pure white paper that was Jesus’. And he was going to take mine and go to heaven with it. Sitting there, all I could think is that’s not fair! I’m the one who is shameful with all my sins. He’s so pure and good and clean (ok I come from a family that believed cleanliness was next to godliness), I can’t allow HIM to get ‘dirty.’ Anyway, I’ll just end up blemishing this clean paper and it won’t be pure and white anymore. It’s not right, not fair to Jesus. My brain then said well, can you carry that burden? Honestly, no. I can’t. Brain: Look, Jesus can and he’s willing. Won’t you let it go, your burden? For some reason that brought me to tears knowing he’s taken my sin, was punished on the cross, seperated from God for 3 days and he’s forgiven me and accepted me.
Tom said:
This reminds me of something that I just read yesterday. I’m in the middle of a great book by Lee Strobel called “The Case for the Real Jesus,” in which Strobel consults various scholars about some of the recent (and quite frankly, stupid) claims about Jesus, such as that he didn’t even exist, the Gospels were altered intentionally by Diocletian, the resurrection story is just a rehashed Egyptian myth, etc.
When interviewing Biblical scholar Craig Evans, Evans says that his years of study have really reminded him of the very human experience Jesus went though. He has observed that many modern Christians think of Jesus as God with only a human mask, and that we imagine him sometimes as going through the motions. But he was truly human - he felt as we feel and experienced the world through the human filter we do, experiencing all the anger, joy, love, and pain that comes with it. When I stopped and really thought about that, it hit me like a hammer. This made the sacrifice of the cross to me all that much more terrifying. And as Terry points out, it was the holy God facing the evils of sin in our human shell, like he was plugged into the Matrix (to use a popular reference). This has been on my mind since yesterday, and everyone’s posts here have just helped rollover in my brain a few times more.
Great discussion here all!
larry nicoludis said:
I read the account of how Jesus was turned in by Judas –handed over to the Romans in a riot. Crowds, arguments, a centurion gets his ear cut off. But I see Jesus as calm thru this storm. He still calls Judas friend and submits that there is a grand plan. He doesn’t say why me, doesn’t make excuses that someone else should pay the ransom, and even as he claims his power - never takes retribution.
To me this says there is peace available in all the trouble that surrounds us. No need to be fearful, no need to be afraid - able to move forward into the storms calmly even though you know the storms may not even go away.
While you started your sermon by saying there was a factor of fear during the cruxafiction, I read the account leading up to it and see a proclamation that there is peace even in strife. There is strength even in submission. That if you stand in truth no false lies can scare you aware of standing firm in your convictions
Racquel said:
John 10:11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.”
Just imagine you are a shepherd and the big ferocious lion comes roaring ready to devour your sheep. Then here you are, standing before the lion offering yourself to be devoured in lieu of your sheep. Even though you know the lion will slash your soft skin with its sharp claws, bury its fangs into your delicate tissues, and then tear your flesh apart, but for the sake of your sheep you offered yourself to die a horrible death so that your sheep may be saved.
The pain that our Good Shepherd experienced when He was whipped, tortured, forced to carry the heavy cross through rugged trail, nailed, and then stabbed, was like being devoured by a ferocious lion.
Truly, He is our Good Shepherd for He suffered a horrible and painful death for our sake. Yet, most of the time, we take His death for granted. It is easy for us to say, “Jesus saved me…” without thinking what painful process He underwent, just to save us.
Maranatha…
Racquel