Today’s a new day! On this Good Friday, let us take the time to reflect on Jesus and the Cross. I want to look at it through a different set of eyes. ~OC
On this Friday, my final moments took place on a hill at Golgotha – referred to as the place of the skull. On this day, I am surrounded by pain, some people who are angry, while others are filled with sadness. Death is in the air. I could have never imagined through all this pain and misery, everything would change for me. This place designed for death, would turn into a place of life for me.
My journey is pretty typical. I learned how to pray. I learned God’s word. I sat around and listened to the elders share from God’s word. I celebrated all the religious traditions. But as I look back, I was just going through the motions. As I grew older, I eventually left the faith of my parents. As soon as I was old enough, I left home with a little money my father gave me and never went back.
I recall the first time I ever heard this man named Jesus teach. He was sharing a story to the crowd that was assembled and it sounded like he was talking about me. This man Jesus was talking about a young man who left home with the inheritance from his father to go live his life. This young man ended up making some poor choices and longed for the days of his childhood home. This was story! How could this teacher know my story?
Then this teacher continues to tell how this lost son returned home to his father. But did the father tell the returning son, I told you so? Did this father reject his son? No, as the father saw the son approaching from a distance, he ran to him, embraced him, loved on him and celebrated his return.
But that wasn’t my story. I never could or would return home. I was positive my father would never take me back. And God was certainly angry with me. I had sinned way too much. When the money my father gave me was all gone, I started stealing. Stealing led to other poor choices. I was pretty good at stealing and rarely got caught. On those rare occasions I did get caught, I would promise myself I would never do that again. Until I did. I wanted to change, but I always ended up going back to what I knew. Doing what I needed to do to survive.
My heart became harder. I didn’t care who I hurt. I did not listen to anyone. I was my own man.
I remember the second time I saw this man named Jesus. We both were in Jericho and I witnessed him meeting Zacchaeus. Everyone in Jericho knew and hated Zacchaeus. He was a tax collector who cheated anyone and everyone he could. I watched Jesus carefully from the shadows. No telling what Jesus would do to someone like Zacchaeus. But I knew that whatever Jesus said and did to him, I deserved the same as Zacchaeus – but even worse.
I was blown away when Jesus spoke to Zacchaues and actually broke bread with this evil man. Jesus had to know all the terrible things Zacchaeus had done. Every one did. But then something happened that I could not believe. After spending time with Jesus, Zacchaeus promised to give back everything he had stolen and cheated people out of – times four! What? And then Jesus spoke the strangest thing. I remember it like it was yesterday because I have replayed his words everyday since…“Today salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” Wait! What in the world is this Jesus guy talking about?
Salvation! Not punishment that Zacchaues deserved. Loving and forgiving the lost and broken instead condemning them. I tried my best to not think about it. There is no way Jesus would ever speak those words over me. Could he maybe? No, I was much worse than Zacchaeus.
I immediately left Jericho after seeing and hearing what Jesus had spoken to Zacchaeus. I wanted to get away from this man named Jesus. He confused me every time I stopped to hear him speak. As much as the words Jesus spoke brought me a sense of hope, I knew there was no hope for me. I had stolen, lied and hurt too many people. This was the life I had chosen for better or worse. I was a lost cause.
Not longer after seeing Jesus in Jericho, my luck ran out. I was arrested once again and this time hurt several people in the process. That’s how I was found guilty and sentenced to death a few days before Passover.
In a strange way I was relieved. I would never have to hear the stories and celebrate God rescuing “his people”out of Egypt and from slavery so many years ago ever again. I almost laughed that here I was sitting in jail, because I had become a slave to a life of stealing, lying and a host of poor choices.
As I sat in this dark, damp prison cell, the quietness of the moment was interrupted by the prisoner sitting across from me. At first I thought it was the ramblings of a drunk person, but then as I listened more closely the words this man was speaking became more clear. This man sitting across from me was repeating the words from Psalms over and over. All the sudden my thoughts went back to my days as a child and hearing my father speaking those same words over me and my brother.
But those words were not the only thing I recognized. It took me a few minutes, but I also recognized that voice crying out those words. It was so dark in that jail cell, but I did not need to see his face to know that this was the man they called Jesus. Just then several guards walked by and mocked Jesus. “So this is the King of the Jews” they laughed and continued walking.
In that moment, I remembered Jesus entering Jerusalem a few days earlier as people lined the streets and shouted “Hosanna, Hosanna!” The people talked about the miracles Jesus had performed. This prophet from Nazareth. In that moment I remembered the words I had heard Jesus speak in the past and how they had touched my cold heart.
Just then, I heard the guards coming my way. It was time. Time to carry my cross to the hill called Golgotha. Time to face the punishment I justly deserved. As I walked out of that jail, I was blinded by the bright morning light. Then two other prisoners were brought out carrying their own crosses. One was terribly bloodied from a horrible beating and wore a strange crown upon his head. He looked vaguely familiar, but his face was so badly beaten I could not be sure.
We began the long and brutal walk to Golgotha, surrounded by soldiers. The crowd that had gathered was shouting “Crucify him! Crucify the King of the Jews!!!
King of the Jews? That horribly disfigured face…the crown of thorns…the familiar voice….it was him. It was Jesus.
Finally, we arrived to Golgotha. It seemed like we had been walking for days, yet it was still early on this Friday morning. The other criminal and I were nailed to our crosses and placed on each side of Jesus. Two guilty men who deserved our fate and one innocent man, who did not deserve any of this. The sign above him read, “King of the Jews.”
The crowds passing by, mocking Jesus. “Save yourself! Come down off that cross. He saved others, but he cannot save himself. If he comes down, we will believe in him! If you are truly the son of God,come down from that cross!”
Even the other criminal who hung beside him joined in. “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and save us.”
The crowd motioned that Jesus’ lips were moving, so I turned to listen. The words, “forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing” flowed out of his mouth.
In that moment, I closed my eyes as Jesus spoke. His words once again pierced my heart. Forgiveness. That seemed to always be his message. Forgiveness. When I opened my eyes the sky had grown dark. How could that be? It was the middle of the day.
The crowd continued to mock Jesus. As I looked out over the crowd, I noticed a woman crying and looking up at Jesus. She was visibly distraught. I wondered if this grieving woman was Jesus’ mother.
In that moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion and reflecting on my life and all the pain I had caused my family and so many others, I turned to this innocent man next me and tearfully asked, “Jesus, please remember me when you come into your Kingdom.”
In that moment, this man who was so badly beaten turned to me with love in his eyes, and shared the following words , “I tell you the truth today, you will be with me in paradise.”
Tears streamed down my face. This man who knew all of my crimes and cruel deeds, had just shared words that would give me eternal life. I would experience no more pain or suffering. I did not deserve those words, but Jesus had nothing but love, compassion and forgiveness for me.
As I looked over to Jesus, still overwhelmed by his love for me, I heard him speak these final words, “It is finished,” Jesus cried out and then gave up his spirit.
“Surely this man was God’s son,” a nearby guard quickly cried out. Yes, I knew that statement to be true. And yes it was finished, at least for me. The years of brokenness, pain and despair had been replaced with joy. In that moment, I remembered those beautiful words Jesus had shared with me just a few minutes prior, “I tell you this today, you will be with me in paradise.” Amen.
