It Is Finished

 Jesus said, "It is finished." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. (John 19:30)

My Lenten discipline has been to write a devotion for each of the 40 days of Lent. My last seven entries are prayers inspired by the seven last sayings of Jesus uttered from the cross. This prayer is based on the sixth saying.

"It Is Finished"

Here I stand at the foot of the cross, my Lord.
I see you high and lifted up,
  as "sorrow and love flow mingled down"
and I hear what you say.
  Every word.

In words barely audible you speak:
  "It is finished."

I think to myself,
  "Yes, it is finished. Mercifully so, your suffering
          is at its end.
  Raise the white flag.
  Let death end it for you."

But that's not what you mean, is it?
  You're not surrendering in defeat;
    You're not capitulating to the darkness;
      You're not giving up.
That's not what "It is finished" means.
Not by a long shot.

No, "It is finished" are words of accomplishment,
  fulfillment,
    victory.
For when you breathe your last,
  you have completed what you have set out to do:

"For God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him."

That's why you came, my Lord: to save the world.
That's why you hang in agony on the cross: to save the world.
That's why you suffer abandonment by God:
     to save the world.

When you breathe your last,
  you have done what you set out to do.
Only then can you say, "It is finished."

Say it, my Lord.
Say it for me.
Say it for the world.

"It is finished."

I Thirst

 

Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty."- John 19:28

My Lenten discipline has been to write a devotion for each of the 40 days of Lent. For my last seven entries I am submitting prayers inspired by the seven last sayings of Jesus uttered from the cross. This prayer is based on his fifth saying from the cross.

"I Thirst"

From the foot of the cross, I behold you, Lord:
  high and lifted up.
And I hear what you say from the cross.
  Every word.

Almost inaudibly, the words flow 
  from your cracked, bloodied lips: "I thirst."

Thirst. 
It is the most primal longing a human experiences.
You have joined our struggle, Lord.
You have experienced the most basic need
  any of us will ever experience: thirst.
As you hang on the cross,
  there is no human agony foreign to you.

Thirst.
It speaks to more than our physical longing.
It speaks, even more vividly, perhaps,
  to the longing of our soul:

O God, you are my God, I seek you;  my soul thirsts for you,my flesh faints for you,  as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.

Forsaken by God,
  you thirst.
You are experiencing the condition that I deserve,
  in order to redeem me. From my own thirst.

But may I be so bold as to consider another thirst, Lord?
Can it be that on the cross 
  you not only experience human thirst for God,
but also, maybe, are you expressing a thirst
  that God has for us?
For you have told us of the father who scans the horizon
  as if thirsting after reconciliation with his lost son;
and you have told us of the shepherd who searches
     high and low
  in deep longing to find the one lost sheep.

Could it be, dear Lord, that your thirst
  is for us to turn to you?

Either way, your thirst draws me to you.
Your thirst arises from your love.
And it makes me thirst for you,
  and for the life only you can give.

And so I thirst, too. Because you thirst.

Father, into Your Hands I Commit My Spirit

Into your hands I commit my spirit;
    deliver me, Lord, my faithful God.

(Psalm 31:5)

My heart aches on this day, O God,

as I think about the agony of your Son.

He was despised and rejected

by people not unlike me. 

He was oppressed and afflicted,

again, because of people like me.

He was subjected to the greatest agony 

he could ever experience, 

when you turned your back on him:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

He watched his mother watch him die;

no one should ever have to experience that horror, but he did.

O God, forgive me, 

for it was my sin, and the sin of the whole world,

that was placed upon Jesus.

He did not deserve any of the torture or punishment he endured.

He did not deserve it, but he endured it just the same,

because of us (myself included), 

and also for us (myself included).

The agony he experienced

was for the fulfillment of your plan

for the salvation of the world.

He endured the cross,

and every cruel thing that came with it,

because “it is written.”

And at the end, he said unto you,

“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”

He lived and died, O God, completely trusting in you.

But for that one moment  in his cry of dereliction,

he had always experienced perfect fellowship with you.

Even in his cry of abandonment,

he did not fail to trust you.

And his last words before he breathed his last,

“Father into your hands I commit my spirit.”

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

When I witness Jesus, who only wanted 

to be faithful to you, even unto death,

I want the same for my life.

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

I rest in you, 

for you are righteous and just,

and you are gracious and compassionate,

and you are faithful and true;

there is no shadow of turning with thee.

Your Son has shown me the way:

the way of the cross, to deny myself,

the way of the cross, to give myself for others,

the way of the cross, to show my love for others

the way of the cross, to forgive others,

the way of the cross, to be faithful to you.

Your Son has shown me the way,

and I want to live like him.

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

Don't Forget the Cross

“For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God… We proclaim Christ crucified.”

- 1 Corinthians 1:18, 23a

This spring, as I have captured some of the beauty of the dogwoods, azaleas, wisteria, and the like, I noticed that crosses kept showing up in my pictures.

O.k., I’ll admit it – the crosses didn’t just “show up” in my pictures; I wanted to frame them into the shots.

There’s something about the cross that keeps drawing my eye… and my heart.

The thing is, we might not notice the cross if we’re not looking for it. It stands front and center in our churches, but where does it stand for you?

Jesus never took his eyes off the cross. It was his purpose. It was the reason he came from heaven to earth in the first place.

We want to shy away from the cross. In modern times, we write it off as a relic of uncivilized times, a device of inhumane torture. The way of the cross doesn’t fit today’s notion of redemption – how can such a thing really save the human race? We want to shy away from the cross.

Don’t. Don’t look the other way. Don’t miss the cross.

“See, from his head, his hands, his feet,

sorrow and love flow mingled down.

Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,

or thorns compose so rich a crown?”¹

It is the cross that tells both the “what” and the “why” of Jesus’ death. On the cross, Jesus took upon himself the death we deserve. Jesus suffered total abandonment by his Father, so we wouldn’t have to. John R. W. Stott once noted, “Our sins sent Christ to hell. He tasted the torment of a soul estranged from God. Bearing our sins, he died our death. He endured instead of us the penalty of separation from God which our sins deserved.”² That’s the “what” of Jesus’ death that the cross explains – our sins sent him there.

But it’s not just our sin which we witness on the cross. It’s also love. “See… sorrow and love flow mingled down...” Jesus took our sins upon himself, because he loves us. He loves the world. Every. one. of. us. He did for us that which we are unable to do for ourselves, because he loves us.

Don’t miss the cross. Don’t jump straight ahead to Easter without Good Friday.

Because the cross – and what Jesus accomplished on it – is the reason that we call that Friday “Good.”

There’s something about the cross. Don’t miss the cross.

1Isaac Watts, “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross”

2John R.W. Stott, Basic Christianity(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996 edition), p. 93.

Praying the Passion, Part 1 - "Father, Forgive them..."

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."- Luke 23:34

From the Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi, Santa Fe, NM

My Lenten discipline has been to write a prayer for each of the 40 days of Lent. The last seven prayers center on the seven last sayings of Jesus uttered from the cross. Today's prayer is based on the first saying of Jesus from the cross.

"Father, Forgive Them..."

From the foot of the cross I can see you, Lord.
You're high and lifted up,
  but not like anybody ever imagined.
Your physical pain is unimaginable;
  your spiritual agony is beyond comprehension.
The crowd that has gathered is worked into a frenzy;
  your execution has become a sold-out, standing-room only 
    entertainment event.
You have been beaten, scourged, mocked, spat upon;
  you have been stripped of your clothing
  and your dignity.
There you hang, nailed to the cross,
  every fiber of your being screaming in agony.

Then you speak: 
  "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

I can't believe my ears, Lord.
 " Father, forgive them"? Is that really what you said?
  How can you say such a thing? 
  Why would you say such a thing?

Then I remember what you said last week,
  after you entered Jerusalem:

"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason that I came to this hour."

And I remember that it was said of you
  hundreds of years prior:

"He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed... The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all."

"Father, forgive them."

Now I realize, my Lord, that it's not just "them"
    to whom you're referring.
"Them" includes me.

Now I realize, my Lord, that it's not just a few cruel people
  who nailed you to the cross,
  for I am one of "them".

My heart bows down within me
  to know that my sins have taken you to the cross.

Father, forgive them.

Father, forgive me.