David Bahn – Reflections

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. ⁴ In him was life, and the life was the light of men. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

⁹ The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. ¹⁰ He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. ¹¹ He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. ¹² But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, ¹³ who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

¹⁴ And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. – John 1:1-5, 9-14

I love the way Genesis unfolds. God speaks. Things happen. Things are formless and empty. God forms and fills them. The Spirit of God hovers over the face of the deep. John writes, “In the beginning was the Word. And the word was with God. And the Word was God. Beautiful and powerful words. Words.

When I speak them, sometimes things happen. Sometimes. I tell Siri to call “Diane”. Most of the time she will call my wife, Diane. Sometimes, however, she says, “Which one? You have 19.” I do have many contacts on my phone – most of the members of St. John are in my contacts. I say, “Go!” to the car in front of me who is not moving fast enough through the intersection. He does not. I get stopped at the red light.

When I consider how the word became flesh, I think of God’s mercy, love, goodness, and promises becoming “real.” People were able to touch him. People heard him speak. They saw his face. God’s salvation is not just an idea. It’s a person: Jesus of Nazareth.

I also consider the idea of being real. I wrote yesterday about a friend’s comment about Diane and me. She said, “They are just who they say they are.” She was defending us, saying that we don’t try to put up a front. And we don’t. I say that because I sincerely try to be real with people. I’m just “me.” I’m not a Joel Olsteen wanabe. I’m no Billy Graham, or Martin Luther. I’m barely me.

I’m just David. Loved by God. Redeemed by Jesus. Forgiven. Called. Committed. Sinner. Saint. All of the above. I don’t try (most often) to be someone else. I believe in real grace. Real redemption. Real faith. Real struggle. Real. The word became real, and I want to be as real as possible. That makes truth more palatable. And grace more precious.

God isn’t content with being an idea or philosophy. Neither should his people. Let’s just be real. Redeemed. Forgiven. Loved. Called. Saved. For God has said it. It is.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. ⁴ In him was life, and the life was the light of men. ⁵ The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

⁹ The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. ¹⁰ He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. ¹¹ He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. ¹² But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, ¹³ who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

¹⁴ And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. – John 1:1-5, 9-14

She came and stayed with us for a few days during Hurricane Rita’s unwelcome visit to the area in which we live. Diane’s friend and mine needed a place to stay following a trip to the doctor and a failed attempt to reunite her with her children. The flooded and closed streets had prevented that. So she stayed with us for a while. We were glad to provide a place for her, and after a few days she and her children were able to get back into their house.

We didn’t try to do anything special. We simply lived our lives and let her be with us and us with her. I’m pretty much that kind of guy. I don’t believe I have any airs to put on. I’m just me. Sometimes to a fault. In fact, I wonder whether we should have tried to do more to entertain. But we were, afterall, in the throes of a hurricane. Months later she would tell someone else, “They’re just who they say they are.” No pretence. I’d like to think that’s who I am.

That’s not always good however. There was that incident in Jones Tower. It showed my need for grace and truth.

I was resentful the whole drive down to the Texas Medical Center. This 2.1 square mile medical district in south central Houston includes over sixty medical institutions which are members of the Texas Medical Center Corporation—a non-profit umbrella organization—which constitutes the largest medical complex in the world.

On this day I would discover the far-reaching implications of its size and complexity. I arrived after 40 minutes of frustration and self-imposed aggravation. I knew I was supposed to go the room 910 in the Jones building. But when I got to the Jones Tower in the Medical Center there was no 9th floor! No one there provided me with any help. They had no patient by the name I was seeking. They offered no alternative to getting to room 910.

I called a colleague who knew his way around that area. When I told him my tale of woe, he said, “You’re in Jones Tower.” “Yes,” I said. “She’s in Jones Pavilion,” he said.

“OK. what does that mean?”

“Get in your car…” He provided the directions that involved a 10-15 minute drive to another garage. He told me the exact entrance to take, how to walk across the catwalk, down the escalator, to the elevator and up to the 9th floor of the Jones Pavilion.

I was frustrated. I didn’t want to be there. I had a very bad attitude. Very. Bad. Attitude. It all melted away as soon as I walked in the door.

“Oh Pastor Bahn! I’m so glad you came. I was praying for you to come visit me. Thank you so much!”

It was the grace of God that allowed me to pray with her that day. It was the truth of God that I needed that grace. Desperately.

Jesus came and dwelt among us, full of grace and truth. No resentment. No frustration because of his own pettiness or misplaced priorities. For that I am thankful, and I try to give that same grace and truth to all whom I encounter.

Tomorrow…the rest of the visiting friend story.

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

³ For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

⁴ You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin; ⁵ and you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons,

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him;
⁶ For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”

⁷ It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline? ⁸ But if you are without discipline, of which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. ⁹ Furthermore, we had earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much rather be subject to the Father of spirits, and live? ¹⁰ For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. ¹¹ All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. – Hebrews 12:1-11

“It’s all good,” he said. He was awaiting a diagnosis from recent pathology tests. Was it cancer? What would he have to face? How would it impact his family? His friends? His co-workers? His neighbors? Himself? “It’s all good,” he said with a wistful smile.

“Not all things are good, but God is always good,” I gently offered. “God’s my It” he said. “It’s good because God’s good.” And so It is. God is good all the time. That’s true whether facing a foreboding diagnosis, or an angry boss. A mean neighbor or a gang banger focused on scoring his next hit. Or a foreboding financial reckoning: these all must bow to the goodness of God. They’re not going to interrupt God’s goodness, love, faithfulness, mercy, kindness, and grace.

That’s good news for people of faith. For those who believe in God, who are willing – by his grace and the working of the Holy Spirit – to recognize his authority over all things and our accountability to him, and who delight in his promises of forgiveness, life, and salvation this is very good news indeed. God’s faithfulness and goodness spans every trial, challenge, hardship, disappointment, fear, threat, or anxious moment.

Then there are times when we recognize the hand of God’s discipline on our lives. We discern that we are being corrected, refined, redirected, and reoriented by God’s providential work in our lives or the lives of others. In this case – as well as when we face challenges from the world, the devil, and our own flesh – the goodness of Godis an anchor for our souls. Alluding to passages from the Psalms, Proverbs and Jeremiah, the writer says:

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him;
⁶ For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”

C.S. Lewis says that pain is God’s megaphone to the world. In times of pain, God is calling to us and seeking our heart’s devotion, faith, and love. He is yearning for us to look to him with confidence and faith that is validated in Jesus’ perfect faith, his suffering death, and resurrection.

God’s goodness, love, grace, and faithfulness is the constant that spans every chasm of despair.

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

³ For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

⁴ You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin; ⁵ and you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons,

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him;
⁶ For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”

⁷ It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline? ⁸ But if you are without discipline, of which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. ⁹ Furthermore, we had earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much rather be subject to the Father of spirits, and live? ¹⁰ For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. ¹¹ All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. – Hebrews 12:1-11

I had quite an experience several years ago at a men’s leadership conference with several men from the church I served at the time. During part of the day, the men gathered around all the pastors in the room and held up his hands (ala Aaron holding up Moses’ hands), and prayed for me. It was deeply moving – especially since one of those men was my oldest son. I don’t recall for certain, but there may have been some cheering and applause too. I do remember the prayers.

I was genuinely touched and deeply encouraged by the experience. I wish every follower of Jesus would experience such encouragement. They say more pastors die with a broken heart than with an over-inflated ego. I wonder how that might apply to any sincere believer.

We are told here that we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. You get the picture of a sports arena? There is a large crowd cheering and applauding, and urging us on to win the race. These are our people wishing for and cheering for our success. They bolster our spirits: someone’s cheering for me! We don’t want to let them down.

Who is in that crowd? Your sainted grandmother, your dad, mom, uncle or grandfather? Is it your little brother who died too young, or your favorite teacher who you know prayed for you each day? Is your neighbor who you visited before she died, or your co-worker to whom you witnessed and who came to faith before she succumbed to cancer? Is it a person from the really tough part of town but who was aided by your gifts to an in-the-trenches Christian ministry?

There is a crowd of witnesses. They are cheering you on. You may need to get a glimpse of them by faith. But trust me. They’re rooting for you. Let’s keep running!

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

³ For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

⁴ You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin; ⁵ and you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons,

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him;
⁶ For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”

⁷ It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline? ⁸ But if you are without discipline, of which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. ⁹ Furthermore, we had earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much rather be subject to the Father of spirits, and live? ¹⁰ For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. ¹¹ All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. – Hebrews 12:1-11

People are constantly inventing ways of doing evil. New ideas abound in regard to morality, godliness, right and wrong. New options in areas of medicine, travel, sexual expression, and business ethics abound. Many are obviously benign choices. Some, however, are life or death, godly or immoral choices.

When the choices are obviously between good and evil, evil will likely present itself as very appealing. When the devil tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden, he didn’t offer some half-rotten, maggot-infested, rotten fruit from the ground near the tree. It was pleasing to the eye, desirable for gaining wisdom and good for food (Genesis 3:6). Eve ate the fruit and gave it to Adam. He ate it without as much as a word of protest. It was all downhill from there.

We may also be bullied into doing wrong. Threats may come to us if we don’t give in. If we do resist temptation it can be challenging. Peer pressure. Lost opportunities. Ridicule. Threats. What will you do? Most often we are not faced with such dire enticements. More often we give in to lesser temptations. To use a baseball analogy, too often we “strike out on the first pitch.” We give in too easily. We don’t stand up to Satan and his wiles. That’s no way to win the game. It’s no way to remain faithful.

We’re given the example of Jesus as an encouragement to remain faithful. And though we do fail, that is no reason to give in to temptation without a fight. Few of us have resisted temptation to the point of shedding blood – though there are those who have lost it all (the Cameroonian Bible translator who was brutally murdered, and his wife’s arm cut off for example).

Jesus’ example is meant to encourage us to remain faithful, resist temptation, and look forward to the great eternal joy of redemption.

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

³ For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

⁴ You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin; ⁵ and you have forgotten the exhortation which is addressed to you as sons,

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him;
⁶ For those whom the Lord loves He disciplines,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”

⁷ It is for discipline that you endure; God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom his father does not discipline? ⁸ But if you are without discipline, of which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. ⁹ Furthermore, we had earthly fathers to discipline us, and we respected them; shall we not much rather be subject to the Father of spirits, and live? ¹⁰ For they disciplined us for a short time as seemed best to them, but He disciplines us for our good, so that we may share His holiness. ¹¹ All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness. – Hebrews 12:1-11

When I think of Jesus’ perfect faith, I think of the little phrase here in Hebrews. Jesus, “for the joy set before him endured the cross.” Jesus saw beyond the suffering he was to endure and saw a joyful outcome. We might think a good analogy might be that of working out. “No gain without pain,” they say. And it’s true. Diane and I work out regularly at a local gym, and some days the workouts are extremely difficult if not painful.

But the analogy breaks down for two major reasons. First of all the suffering Jesus endured was far and away more horrific than even the most brutal workout. Jesus’ suffering on merely a physical level was sufficient to cause death. But Jesus also suffered emotionally and spiritually. He endured the cross like no other criminal or even any other martyr experienced. He bore the sins of the world. He experienced an eternity in a moment when God abandoned him.

The joy is also greater by any comparison. I may have joy when my workout is ended. I have even greater joy if I combine my workout with good healthy eating. And as I gain health and strength there is more joy. But even though my wife is pleased if I am healthier, the benefits of my pain and suffering are not all that far-reaching. And my joy is truly rather self-centered.

Jesus’ joy, however, is of an entirely different sort. Jesus taught that there is joy in the presence of the angels of God when one sinner repents (cf. Luke 15). Jesus’ joy is that of an obedient Son having served and pleased his heavenly Father, but purer than any mortal sinful son who might be tempted to gloat.

Jesus’ joy is knowing that he pleased the Father for our sake, and because he has done so, we are now reconciled to God. His joy is knowing that when a sinner repents the way has already been opened up for access to God and eternal salvation has been won for all who believe.

Jesus’ joy is knowing that he has done all the hard work – work that we could never do ourselves – and that he has secured for us a place in his eternal kingdom. His joy is your salvation!

Now from the sixth hour there was darkness over all the land until the ninth hour.⁴⁶ And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” ⁴⁷ And some of the bystanders, hearing it, said, “This man is calling Elijah.” ⁴⁸ And one of them at once ran and took a sponge, filled it with sour wine, and put it on a reed and gave it to him to drink. ⁴⁹ But the others said, “Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to save him.” ⁵⁰ And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up his spirit. – Matthew 27:45-50

I learned to say it: Ā-lē (long “a” long “e”) lema … Others speak it “Ē-lī (long “e” long “i”. However you pronounce those words, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthaini” are a cry of Jesus’ soul to his heavenly Father. “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” These are the words of one in deep anguish of mind, body, and soul.

Jesus is calling to his God who has, in fact, forsaken him. This is the pit of utter despair and gloom. Jesus had done all things the Father had required of him. His work was nearly finished. But in the face of that, God the Father had forsaken his Son. God turned his back on his beloved Son. God abandoned himself on the cross in Jesus’ hour of deepest need.

I need very little to abandon faith in God’s goodness when I am tested. Or at least I am too easily given to going my own way and making my own path. I’ll take matters into my own hands. This is not the way of true faith. This is the way of self-help, self-determination, and self righteousness. If God isn’t coming to my rescue soon enough or dramatically enough all bets are off. I say this to my shame.

Thankfully Jesus did not do this. He held perfectly to his faith in this darkest of hours. He may have cried out to God in apparent despair: Where are you, my God? Why are you so far off? Don’t you see how they are abusing me? Don’t you see how wrong they are? Don’t you see how I am suffering unjustly? Read the whole of Psalm 22 (from which this quote comes) to get the full measure of Jesus’ lament.

But read carefully. For Jesus says, “My God, my God…” God has abandoned Jesus. For he bore the sins of the world and it was God’s will to crush him and to cause him to suffer (cf. Isaiah 53:10) for our sake and for our sins.

In Jesus’ hour of despair and deep distress – abandoned by God – he does not lose faith. He still trust in God. He still calls him, “My God.” He still calls out to him.

That is perfect faith. This is a faith that fills up what is lacking in our too-quickly-abandoned-trust in God. Jesus kept the faith in his darkest hour. He trusted in God and yearned for his salvation even when God had abandoned him.

If the devil can trick us into trusting in our faith – rather than trusting in our Savior, he has won a great battle. For although we say faith saves us, it does so not because it’s perfect. Faith saves because it is focused on and holds to a perfect Savior. He has perfect faith. Our faith – however weak and weary it may be – lays hold of Jesus’ righteousness and connects us with the One whose perfect faith, innocent suffering and death, holy and righteous life, and resurrection from the grave earned our salvation and secures an eternal and glorious future for all who believe.

Who is there to harm you if you prove zealous for what is good? ¹⁴ But even if you should suffer for the sake of righteousness, you are blessed. And do not fear their intimidation, and do not be troubled, ¹⁵ but sanctify Christ as Lord  in your hearts, always being ready to make a defense to everyone who asks you to give an account for the hope that is in you, yet with gentleness and reverence; ¹⁶ and keep a good conscience so that in the thing in which you are slandered, those who revile your good behavior in Christ will be put to shame. ¹⁷ For it is better, if God should will it so, that you suffer for doing what is right rather than for doing what is wrong. ¹⁸ For Christ also died for sins once for all, the just for the unjust, so that He might bring us to God. – 1 Peter 3:13-18

I never had much of a questioning mind as I grew up – apart from trying to figure out how to make my mother love me as much as she seemed to love my little sister, or those kinds of mysteries of family dynamics. When difficulties would come our way, I didn’t wonder why, I just dealt with them as best I could. Financial challenges and pressures at our family’s motel were high on the list. But we just did what we could to weather the storms and worked our way through it. 

Those challenges and pressures, however, pale in comparison to the kinds of suffering, and injustice the early Christians suffered. They were rejected by the Jewish religious leaders and regularly persecuted by the governing authorities. Some were slaves of cruel taskmasters. They suffered physically and emotionally and unfairly. 

On the one hand it would be easy for them to answer Peter when he asks, “Who is there to harm you if you are zealous to do good?” They could say: My master, my fellow slave who wants to take my job, the magistrates, soldiers, and synagogue leaders who want to make an example of me for whatever reason. There are plenty of folks who want to make my life miserable. 

They could not say that Jesus did not know such suffering. Nor could they say that he was kind and faithful only to good and righteous folks. If they were to look to Jesus as an example, they would have to be kind to all people – no matter the cost: even that of their life. 

Jesus died to bring us to God. He was more committed to our salvation than he was to his comfort, or fair treatment. Martin Luther says it well:

Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him.³³ And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. ³⁴ And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. ³⁵ And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” ³⁶ The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine³⁷ and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” ³⁸ There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

³⁹ One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰ But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹ And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴² And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” ⁴³ And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

⁴⁴ It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, ⁴⁵ while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. ⁴⁶ Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last.– Luke 23:32-45

I recall the day my dad died. He had battled lung cancer for 7 months, and had recently been placed into hospice care in our home. I was serving a church in Arkansas at the time, and when I got the phone call that he was near death, I was scheduled to hold a funeral for one of the members of the church I served. Thankfully, my sister’s father-in-law was a Lutheran pastor. He called and told me that he would take the funeral. “You go up there and be with your Momma and Daddy where you need to be,” he said. Thanks Herald. It was a kind offer and proved to be a good choice.

We piled our four sons into our big blue Dodge van and hit the road. It was a six hour trip and when we got there, Dad was still holding on. We brought the boys in and they told him they loved him.  Stephen was 18 months old, and we held him up for Dad to see. Dad raised up his head, and Stephen patted Dad on the chest. That was the last act of physical exertion my dad made. In less than 5 minutes he had died. I remember thinking, “The dying is ended now.”

Perhaps you’ve seen someone die. Your story might be more difficult. It might be more miraculous. We all have stories of death – from afar or close up. Jesus’ death is so significant to our faith, and so important to his mission that all four of the Gospel writers record it. Jesus’ death is referred to throughout the New Testament. It is prophesied in the Old Testament as well. Take a look at Isaiah 53 for example!

We die because of sin’s impact on our bodies. Our bodies are mortal – thanks to the inherited sin of Adam and Eve. Our days are numbered. Jesus died also because of sin. But not his sin. He died because of our sin. His days were numbered – just as ours are, but not because of his own sin, but because of ours.

The proof of all this comes from Jesus’ own lips when he says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” We have no idea of how dreadfully we need his mercy and forgiveness. But our lack of knowledge does not negate his grace. Our ignorance and unawareness of our need makes God’s grace and forgiveness even more necessary.

Jesus died because his grace demanded it. God ordained it (cf. Isaiah 53:10!). And we are deeply favored by it.  

Then Pilate turned Jesus over to them to be crucified.

So they took Jesus away. ¹⁷ Carrying the cross by himself, he went to the place called Place of the Skull (in Hebrew, Golgotha). ¹⁸ There they nailed him to the cross. Two others were crucified with him, one on either side, with Jesus between them. ¹⁹ And Pilate posted a sign on the cross that read, “Jesus of Nazareth,the King of the Jews.” ²⁰ The place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and the sign was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek, so that many people could read it.

²¹ Then the leading priests objected and said to Pilate, “Change it from ‘The King of the Jews’ to ‘He said, I am King of the Jews.’”

²² Pilate replied, “No, what I have written, I have written.”

²³ When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they divided his clothes among the four of them. They also took his robe, but it was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.²⁴ So they said, “Rather than tearing it apart, let’s throw dicefor it.” This fulfilled the Scripture that says, “They divided my garments among themselves and threw dice for my clothing.”So that is what they did.

²⁵ Standing near the cross were Jesus’ mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary (the wife of Clopas), and Mary Magdalene.²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, “Dear woman, here is your son.” ²⁷ And he said to this disciple, “Here is your mother.”And from then on this disciple took her into his home.

²⁸ Jesus knew that his mission was now finished, and to fulfill Scripture he said, “I am thirsty.” ²⁹ A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips. ³⁰ When Jesus had tasted it, he said, “It is finished!” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. – John 19:16-30

I’m a get-to-the-destination kind of guy, rather than an smell-the-roses-and-enjoy-the-journey fellow. I get things done. It’s a strength. It can also be a weakness. I can miss the beauty all around me, fail to enjoy the blessings of the journey, and pass by the joys of relationships as I pursue my goals.

There is a time, however, when you simply must finish the trip. You simply must get on with it and arrive. Jesus displayed the perfect balance of enjoying the journey of life and accomplishing his mission. After three years with his disciples he has now come to the end of his work on earth. He will go to the cross. He will be crucified. He will die. But as he dies – and even as he responds to others along the way to the cross, and to those around him as he dies (not enjoying the journey as it were, but certainly embracing the full significance of each moment) he proclaims: It is finished.

The Greek here is quite interesting. Τετέλεσται is a perfect indicative passive tense. It is completely accomplished. His work stands finished (as the German would express it). There has been some interesting debate about the use of this word to indicate: PAID IN FULL. The word would be stamped on bills to show that they were paid in full. Some even suggest that upon completion of a criminal’s prison term τετέλεσται would be stamped on his prison papers. See discussion below for further insights about this.

Jesus work is finished, and that his work has paid the penalty for our sins. We owed a debt we could not possibly pay. Jesus paid the price that only he could afford. And he announces – as he dies – that the debt is paid. His mission is accomplished. His work is done. He could entrust himself into the Father’s hands. He could rest from his labors.

This is no cry of defeat. It is the declaration of one who has already said, “For this reason the Father loves Me, because I lay down My life so that I may take it again. ¹⁸ No one has taken it away from Me, but I lay it down on My own initiative. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again (John 10:17-18).

Jesus’ work of redemption is completely complete. His work in our hearts and lives has just begun.

PS: Here is a post on a discussion board regarding the word, τετέλεσται.

[Prisoners’] crimes [were] listed on a note that was posted at the prison where they were kept, and it correlated the crimes to the amount of punishment they were to serve. Then, at the end of their sentence, the jail keeper would stamp the paper with “Τετέλεσται“, meaning “PAID IN FULL.”

Tετέλεσται was stamped on paid bills and debt certificates in the first century. Not all the time was the root τελέω in this same third-person perfect passive form, but from the earliest records, including works of Plato (e.g. Alcibiades), Aristophanes and Xenophon, this verb has been used to refer to the payment of debt or (usually) taxes. In papyri fragments dating from the first century (as well as other centuries) the same verb is used with reference to debt complaints, receipts of payment and tax documents (see “THE OXYRHYNCHUS PAPYRI”).