Let us pray… Father God, this afternoon we remember the darkest day in all of Your creation – the day we tortured and executed Your Son, nailing Him to a cruel cross. Jesus came to offer us salvation, but the world refused Him. We drove nails into the hands He stretched out to save us. We cursed Him, spat on Him, beat Him, killed Him. But You knew all this had to happen. You knew that only the blood of the one true Spotless Lamb could wash us clean and atone for our sin. Thank You, Father, for Your great love and mercy. Thank You, Jesus, for Your sacrifice. Imprint this day on our hearts so that we might understand just how important this is to us and to others, how critical it is for our eternal life. This we pray in the name of the Lamb, Your Son Jesus. Amen.
Our modern workday world has a saying that I myself have repeated quite often: “Thank God, it’s Friday!” For the Jewish people, Friday was the day of preparation. Saturday is the Sabbath, when no labor is allowed to be performed by law. So anything that might be needed for Saturday had to be prepared before sundown Friday, as their day went from sundown to sundown.
We know that Jesus was arrested by Judas and the temple guards sometime Thursday night; after supper, after He washed His disciples’ feet, after they left the house singing hymns and onto the mountainside, after He went off for a while to pray. In other words, it may have been quite late when Jesus was taken into custody and to the temple. But He wasn’t allowed to rest, for they took Him before Caiaphas, the high priest, who had called the scribes and elders, the chief priests into assembly. They held their little mock trial and had Jesus beaten a bit, just for good measure. And next we’re told that morning had come, with no word of sleep or rest.
Friday morning, the one we usually look forward to, didn’t start off very well for Jesus. I can’t say that Judas was enjoying it much either. We he saw the result of his betrayal, that Jesus had been condemned by the Jewish leadership and carried off to Pilate for sentencing, he was filled with remorse. He went back to the high council, offering to give back the money he had been paid, seeking atonement for his sin. They shrugged him off, saying it was no concern of theirs what he did, now that they had what they wanted. So in his anguish, Judas went off and killed himself.
That was of no help to Jesus, of course. He now stood in judgment before the highest human authority in the land, the commander of the occupying army, Pontius Pilate.
But quite frankly, Pilate would rather have not been involved at all. He was a Roman, not a Jew. He worshiped multiple gods, not just one. The only reason he cared about any of this at all is because the leaders of the occupied people were stirring the crowds into a frenzy, and he feared riots and unrest might erupt. He was there to keep the peace, the Roman peace, and that meant keeping the people under control, by any means necessary, even putting this man Jesus to death if that would quieten the mob.
Still, Pilate wasn’t convinced that Jesus had done anything deserving of death. First, he gave Jesus a chance to answer the charges against Him, but He said nothing, other than agreeing to the governor’s assertion that He was the King of the Jews. That ploy didn’t work, so next Pilate offered the people, the mob, a choice: he could pardon either Jesus or the notorious prisoner, the murderer Barabbas. “Which do you choose?”, he asked.
At this point, Pilate was convinced that the Jewish leaders had planned all this and brought Jesus here for judgment because they were jealous of Him, envious of His popularity with the people, covetous of His power and authority over illness and affliction. Even Pilate’s wife realized these proceedings were wrong, that it would all turn out bad, for she had been warned in a dream so she sent word to her husband to have nothing to do with this matter.
Still he persisted, “Which do you choose to free, Barabbas or Jesus?” “Free Barabbas!”, they cried. “And what then shall I do with Jesus, who is called Christ?”, Pilate asked, amazed by the mob’s reply. “Let Him be crucified!”, they shouted. The same people who began the week by greeting Jesus as He entered Jerusalem with shouts of “Hosanna” now called for Him to be put to death in a most horrible way, by crucifixion.
And now Pilate had run out of options. He ignored his wife’s warning and his own gut feelings. He had no other choice if he wanted to appease the crowds and maintain the peace. This Jesus had to die, guilty or not. So he washed his hands of the whole mess as the people accepted responsibility. Barabbas was released and Jesus was carried off for more torture and then to be nailed to the cross.
It’s still Friday morning. Matthew doesn’t get into great detail about it, but Jesus was scourged, which in the day was to be whipped with a cat-o-nine-tails. This was basically a handle with a number of short leather straps tied on it, and those strips of leather had shards or pottery and bits of metal embedded in them. The end result was a tool of torture that would literally peel the flesh off a person’s back. This is what Jesus was beaten with. This is what the prophet Isaiah was shown when he reported that the Good Servant bore our stripes.
During this scourging, blood loss would be great, leaving the victim physically weak. Those sentenced to crucifixion were required to drag their own crosses up to the place of execution, up to Golgotha, the Place of a Skull. But after the scourging, Jesus was unable to shoulder the cross very far, so the Romans grabbed a man out of the crowd and forced him to carry it the rest of the way. This poor famer who was simply returning from his fields, Simon of Cyrene, will forever be remembered for this act.
Now before actually nailing Jesus to the cross, they offered Him a drink that was a mixture of sour wine and an ingredient Matthew calls gall. The net effect of this concoction was to act as a pain blocker, much like a narcotic would be used today to deaden any pain. When Jesus tasted what was in the mixture, He refused to drink it. This isn’t to imply that Jesus was trying to be a masochist or that He enjoyed pain. No, but He was here to suffer for us, to take our punishment, to feel all the pain that our sin has caused. He had to experience the full brunt so that we could relate to what He endured… just for us.
So they crucified Him, just as the mob demanded. The Roman soldiers gambled over His clothing, again just as Messianic prophecy foretold. (Matthew made it a point to show how Jesus fulfilled everything ever predicted regarding the Messiah.) Then they sat down and watched as Jesus suffered. They watched as those who passed by mocked and ridiculed Him, including the chief priests, the scribes, and the Pharisees, and even the criminals crucified alongside Him.
“If You’re the Son of God, come down off that cross, and then we’ll believe in You.” Do you remember what Jesus told Thomas when He appeared before the disciples after His resurrection? He said, “Thomas, you believe because you have seen My nail scarred hands and spear pierced side. Blessed are those who believe who have not seen.”
The unbelieving Jews wanted more proof. It didn’t matter that Jesus had performed miracle after miracle, they demanded yet another sign. But it was all for naught, for their hearts were already hardened and cold, just as foretold.
It is now around noon on Friday. The sun has faded out and darkness covers the land for the next three hours. Finally, at 3 in the afternoon, the mortal side of Jesus breaks through, and He cries out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”.
How many of us have ever cried out like that? How many of us, in a moment of great pain and anguish have shouted, “My God, why are You letting this happen to me?”
Jesus was God, but God in the flesh. That means He could feel physical pain, and emotional anguish. With all He has endured – the sleep deprivation, the betrayal, the torture, the unbearable suffering – is it any wonder the human side would slip through for a moment and allow a mortal cry for help to escape?
And then He breathed His last, and it was over.
Of course, we know it was not really over, not that day, and certainly not in God’s great plan. The earth shook. The veil in the temple, that separated man from God, was torn in two from top to bottom. And graves were opened, allowing the saints to rise again from the dead, as witnessed by many in Jerusalem.
The centurion and soldiers who had presided over the execution took note of all these events, and became very fearful. “Truly this was the Son of God!”, they realized. If only they and the Jewish people had understood this before.
Evening and the start of the Sabbath was rapidly approaching. A rich man from Arimathea by the name of Joseph, who had become a believer in Jesus, approached Pilate and asked that he might be given the body of Jesus to give a proper burial. Pilate granted that request, and Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean cloth, laid it in a new tomb which he had hewn out of the hillside rock, and then rolled a large stone across the doorway, blocking the entrance.
By now it was the Sabbath, and all Mary Magdalene could do was sit in front of the tomb, and weep.
All this happened one Friday. We could almost make that a title for a love story, couldn’t we? “It Happened One Friday”. For Jesus and those who followed Him, this was a very long and tragic day. This Man they had followed for three years, the One who was supposed to save them, had been horribly put to death and now laid buried in a tomb! Where is the love in that?!!?
Well, it really is a love story. And it’s a story that starts out, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.”
This is love, that Jesus suffered and died for us, that He allowed His flesh to be torn and His blood to be shed so that we could be washed clean of our sin. And it happened one Friday, a day much like today.
Of course, we know that it did not end that Friday. On Sunday we will celebrate our Lord’s resurrection and the promise of our own new life. But today, let us mourn with the disciples and His mother and the women who followed Jesus from Galilee. And let us remember all that He went through just for us. Remember that He took the punishment we deserve. Remember that He suffered at the hands of those He came to save.
Sunday we can rejoice, but today let us weep and reflect on what happened one Friday. In the blessed name of Him who died so that we might live, the name of Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
Let us pray… Lord Jesus, You came to us holding out the arms of God’s love. You came to us when we were lost in our sin, reaching out Your hand to us, offering to redeem us. You came to break the chains of sin that hold us captive to this world. You came to save us from ourselves. And how did we react to all this mercy and grace? We refused to accept You. We tortured You and nailed You to a cruel cross. You asked Your Father God to forgive those who tormented and beat You, because they just didn’t understand. Yet still, to this very day, even we who are called by Your name, we still drive nails in Your hands. We believe in You and Your goodness, but the world has too strong a grasp on us, and we are afraid to let it go. We judge others based on their looks or their background or the color of their skin, without taking the time to see what is in their hearts. Forgive us, Lord, because sometimes we still don’t know what we are doing.
But You knew, Lord. Every step of the way, You knew what was coming. You knew how the events of each day would play out, including that one Friday when You lived Your last day as a mortal man. You knew exactly how God’s plan would be accomplished. You knew why it was necessary for You to be slaughtered, the Spotless Lamb, for the atonement of our sin. You knew the truth. Help us, please Lord, to fully grasp the importance of Your sacrifice. Help us realize that Your greatest suffering came not from any physical pain, but from having to take all our sin upon Yourself. Forgive us when we fail You. Forgive us when we won’t listen to Your voice, when we don’t live as You would have us live, when we hesitate to speak out in Your defense, when we deny You by our actions and our inactions. Forgive us when we fail to love sacrificially, unconditionally, as You love us. Help us be worthy of Your great sacrifice. Help us better serve You. In Your precious name, Lord Jesus, we pray. Amen.