God's Glory Church

When He died, your sin died too. And when He rose again, your hope was resurrected and your grave ceased to be your final residence, but became only a temporary home.

“This is love, that we did not love God, but He loved us.” (1 John 4:10)

The hill is quiet now. It is not silent, but silent. For the first time all day there is no noise here. It began to subside as darkness—that disconcerting, midday darkness—fell over the earth. Just as water extinguishes fire, so the shadows extinguish the ridicule. There is no more mockery. There are no more witticisms. There is no more banter. And over time, there were no more scoffers. One by one, the spectators turned away and began to walk down the hill. That is, all the spectators except you and me. We didn’t leave. We came to learn.

So we stayed in the semi-darkness and listened. We heard the curses of soldiers, the questions of passers-by and the crying of women. But most of all we listened to the groans of three dying people. Hoarse, guttural, thirsty moans. They moaned every time they turned their heads and tried to rise up, leaning on their legs. But over time the groans also subsided; The three looked dead. If it weren’t for their heavy breathing, one would think that it was so. Then He let out a piercing cry. The back of His head hit the sign with His name on it, as if someone had pulled His hair, and He screamed. Like a sharp dagger cutting the curtain, His cry pierced the darkness. Straightening up as much as the nails would allow Him, He shouted, as if calling a lost friend: “Eli!”

His voice was raspy and squeaky. Reflections of lights danced in His wide-open eyes. “My God!”

Ignoring the erupting volcano of pain, He rose up until His shoulders were higher than His pierced hands. “Why have you left me?” The warriors peered intently. The women’s crying stopped. One of the Pharisees sneered: “He is calling Elijah.”

Nobody laughed.

He shouted a question to the heavens, and you almost expected them to answer Him. And apparently, that was the case. Because Jesus’ face brightened, and by noon He spoke for the last time. “It is finished. Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit.”

As He gave up the ghost, the earth suddenly shook. A stone rolled and the warrior stumbled. Then, just as suddenly as it had been broken, silence fell upon the earth again. Now everything is quiet. The bullying has stopped. There is no one else to mock. Warriors are busy with the dead. Two men came. Well dressed and calm, they took the body of Jesus. And we were left with traces of His death.

Three nails in a basket. Three cross-shaped shadows. Wicker crown with scarlet thorns. Crazy, isn’t it? To think that these nails kept your sins on the cross? We would have scripted this moment differently. Ask us how God should redeem the world, and we will show you! White horses, sparkling swords. Evil is placed on both shoulder blades. God sits on the throne.

But God on the cross? God on the cross with chapped lips, swollen eyes and a bloody face?

We have seen what Jesus brought. With pierced hands He granted forgiveness. Through his torn flesh He promised us acceptance. He set out on the path to bring us home. He put on our clothes to give us His. We saw the gifts He brought.

What will we bring?

We are not asked to draw a sign or bring nails. We are not offered to expose ourselves to spitting. But we are invited to take the path and leave something at the cross. Of course, we are not obliged to. Many people don’t do this. Can I persuade you to leave something at the cross? You can study the cross and analyze it. But until you leave something there, you will not accept the cross. You saw what Christ left. Won’t you leave something too? Why don’t you start with what’s stopping you from living?

God does more than just forgive our sins: He takes them away! We just need to bring them to Him. Why? Because He knows that you cannot live with them

“He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him freely give us all things?”(Rom. 8:32).