The Gospel of Luke 23: 44-49
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Easter is just around the corner, so this may be a weird way to begin, but here’s how the book A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, opens:
“Marley was dead: to begin with…The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it…There is no doubt that Marley was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate.”
Good writers know that establishing key facts is crucial to shaping their narrative. For example, Dickens ensures his readers hear, right from the off, that Jacob Marley was dead, and that nothing about his story will resonate if his readers don’t first grasp this. A narrative only has power when key facts are shared and sometimes reiterated by the writer. This same principle applies to our text today, the account of Jesus’ death.
Luke, the writer of this gospel, also wants his readers to be clear on the facts. But unlike Charles Dickens, Luke isn’t writing an entertaining Christmas or Easter story. He’s not writing fiction, but non-fiction. At the very beginning of his gospel Luke writes that he’s carefully investigated everything he’s about to relay, which includes eyewitness accounts. That’s how Luke begins his biography of Jesus – I’ve put together a detailed and well researched account of Jesus’ life. So given Luke’s focus of accuracy about Jesus’ life, it’s no surprise he’s equally particular on the record of Jesus’ death. The narrative has hurried along up to this point in the gospel, but it slows down when we come to Jesus’ final moments.[i] Luke takes his time and wants his readers to hear a few things clearly.
What happened when Jesus died? Cards on the table – that’s a huge question to try and answer. In fact, it’s proved an impossible question to fully answer over many lifetimes, as we’re still discussing, debating and peering into the profound meaning of Jesus’ death today. Many argue the most impactful event in human history was the death of Jesus, rivaled only by his resurrection, if we can even parse the two. All this to say, answering the question, “what happened when Jesus died?” is a question which should and will overwhelm us. But it’s a question we must ask nonetheless, because the writers of the New Testament tell us to pay very close attention not only to Jesus’ life but especially to his death. All four gospels tell us Jesus died, each with a different slant, like four film documentarians relaying the same event from different angles. The other New Testament writers ground everything they share in the certainty and meaning of Jesus’ death also. The whole New Testament is insistent that Jesus died, and that his death was the key for understanding everything which has followed. But before we ask, “what happened when Jesus died?”, let’s remember how Jesus came to be in this position to begin with.
How did we get here?
Jesus had come to Jerusalem at Passover, and believed by some to be Israel’s Messiah, had been announcing the arrival of a new kingdom, a heavenly reality rushing in on earth. Jesus’ authority and integrity became a threat to ancient Israel’s leadership, who, rather than receive his message, instead chose to get rid of him. But all through Luke’s narrative, we’re shown over again that Jesus was not only a profoundly influential teacher or prophet or even king. It was possible Jesus was the long-expected king-like Messiah, but he seemed even more than that. How Jesus acted and talked pointed to a greater, unnerving conclusion. The ancient Israelites had been waiting for God’s presence to return to their temple: could Jesus somehow be the embodiment of their God among them? No one thought that possible. But things got stranger still. By his own orchestration, and the will of those in power, Jesus was betrayed, arrested and condemned to die. We’ve been walking through these scenes over the past weeks together. Most recently we’ve laboured to focus on the means of Jesus’ death, his crucifixion.
There Jesus was, staring death in the face. He’d been crucified, a form of capital punishment under Roman law, which was so grotesque and humiliating that even the word crucifixion was avoided in polite circles.[ii] Crucifixion was reserved for those considered lowest in society, like runaway slaves, as a terrifying deterrent, but especially for rebels threatening the Empire’s control. The crucified faced a slow and agonizing death, usually dying from exposure, shock or asphyxiation. In fact, it’s from the Latin word “crucifixion” we derive the English word “excruciating”. Death on a cross regularly lasted days, but death was only half the point. The crucified were suffering billboards, posted at high-traffic locations, naked and vulnerable to the extreme. Proficient and creative with crucifixion, the Roman message of a cross was loud and clear: mess around with us and find out…
Those even a little familiar with the Bible might regard the most surprising part of the gospels to be Jesus’ resurrection. But Jesus’ crucifixion was just as surprising to the first century audience. If Jesus had been hailed as the king-like Messiah, come to bring freedom for his people, then his crucifixion surely meant he was in fact a false Messiah, because the true Messiah would succeed, not fail. Crucifixion, everyone knew, clearly spelled failure. That Jesus might somehow the embodiment of Israel’s God among them crucified was simply unthinkable.
Try to imagine hearing the story for the first time: full of authority and promise, Jesus had come to Jerusalem, under the hopes he’d bring about another Exodus, God’s blessing and freedom for his people. Now he’s struggling to breath, naked and beaten to a pulp, nailed up in plain view to the thousands coming in and out of the city, another victim of Roman dominance. In the eyes of the Romans, Israel’s higher ups, and even his own followers, Jesus had lost and looked cursed rather than blessed. And despite all his talk, his so called kingdom seemed to die with him. All this is why Luke takes his time in recounting for us what happened in Jesus’ final moments, refusing to gloss over the nature of Jesus’ death. Luke will ask his listeners to look at a crucified Jesus and try to make sense of its meaning. It was a tall order then and still is now. So back to our big question: what happened when Jesus died?
Darkness and the Curtain
According the Luke, Jesus’ final moments coincided with some strange events. First, for about three hours Jerusalem goes dark. Ancient people believed that natural signs accompanied the death of a great person[iii], but remember that Luke isn’t simply speaking symbolically here, he’s got plenty of eyewitnesses. Things literally go dark, reflecting the reality of the spiritual darkness surrounding Jesus’ death, and the evil powers at work behind the scenes. Darkness.
Next, Luke writes that the curtain in the temple was torn in two. Jerusalem’s temple had been the place of Jesus’ teaching, and his conflict with Israel’s leadership, the temple being their base of corrupted power. Central to first century Jewish life and worship, at that time the temple covered up to a quarter of Jerusalem, with massive outer courts, and various inner courts. The most sacred space in the temple was the Holy of Holies, where God’s very presence was meant to reside. This was restricted air space, and no one, but on the very rare occasion, was even allowed entry. The Holy of Holies was separated by a large curtain. As darkness covered Jerusalem, Luke writes that the curtain separating the Holy of Holies, the partition between the intended residence of God’s presence and the rest of the temple, was torn in half.
What could this mean? Well, this is where our toes begin to lift off the bottom of the pool, as we swim into the deep meaning of Jesus’ death. Some say the curtain’s tearing was symbolic of the coming judgementon ancient Israel, having rejected Jesus. About forty years later Jerusalem and its temple was destroyed during the first Roman-Jewish war, just as Jesus predicted. So maybe the tearing of the curtain was a sign of the destruction to come. Others argue that the curtain’s tearing was a sign that God’s presence was no longer meant to reside in Jerusalem’s temple, that instead Jesus’ life and announcement of his inbreaking kingdom meant that Jesus temple’d God’s presence himself (this is a main theme fleshed out in the Gospel of John). The curtain’s tearing then, was a sign that God’s presence was not, in fact, to be found in the Holy of Holies, but present in Jesus even on a cross. Finally, others argue that the curtain’s tearing signified that there was no longer a barrier between God’s Spirit and the world; that all people would have all access to God’s presence, through Jesus and his promise of the Holy Spirit (this is a theme continued through Luke’s other work, the book of Acts). So the curtain’s tearing could mean a mean a number of things. Regardless, it’s important and might be the most mysterious part of this passage.
Jesus’ Last Words
Next, Luke gives us Jesus’ last words. Ancient biographers spent a good deal of time on how someone died, as much as how they lived, believing that how someone died showed you who they really were[iv]. So let’s notice that with his last words, Jesus didn’t go out with a whimper. With a loud voice Jesus shouts, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” If Jesus is shouting those words, do they come across as a resignation or more like a declaration? A clue comes from knowing that Jesus didn’t pull those words out of thin air. As so often he’s quoting Israel’s Scriptures, and in this case Psalm 31. Psalm 31 is about suffering, and about trusting God in the middle of suffering. It’s a Psalm which emphasises that the suffering of the writer is not an indication that God has abandoned them, but just the opposite. The writer trusts that God is hearing, protecting, and vindicating them, because they are in the right. So Luke’s telling us that Jesus didn’t have a change of heart in his last moments, and that he expected the one he called Father to take care of him, even in death. This is an important note to hear. As reports about Jesus later spread, folks would obviously be skeptical to trust the message about a crucifixion victim. Wouldn’t that be a sign that the gods or God had abandoned Jesus? Luke tells us that Jesus’ last words say the opposite, of Jesus’ conviction that God was in fact on his side, even through his horrifying death.
Witnesses
Finally, Luke tells us that Jesus breathed his last. He died. As a good historian, Luke’s sure to add three kinds of eyewitnesses. First, a Roman centurion overseeing the spectacle (a centurion commanded about one-hundred men in the Roman military). The centurion’s response to witnessing Jesus’ death was to “praise God”. Thinking back on the rest of Luke’s gospel we might remember that Jesus had consistently brought all kinds of people together through his life, and this continues even at his death. Both one of the men crucified with Jesus, and the man overseeing the crucifixions themselves, are turned God-ward in the same scene. Also, the centurion’s reaction to witnessing Jesus’ death was not that Jesus deserved his punishment, happy that his shift would be over soon, but that Jesus was a righteous or innocent person. Again, as word about Jesus’ death spread, the means of his death would carry such a negative weight that Luke wants his average listener to understand that Jesus’ didn’t get what he deserved, but that Jesus was innocent, even in the sight of a Roman commander[v]. Baffling as it was to imagine, Jesus’ crucifixion and death was not a condemnation of his bad character or failed political ambition, but something which revealed his true and righteous character, and even his relation to the one true God. The next witnesses Luke notes are the crowds who have come to watch. Routine as crucifixions were, this whole scene has left them reeling, and so they go away in sorrow. Finally, the third set of witnesses are some who knew Jesus, including the women who have followed him all along. The women are noted as witnesses of Jesus’ death, and we’ll see the focus on women as witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection later. Luke’s note on this group’s proximity to the cross is telling, they are standing at a distance. As Jesus died, those who knew him were not yet able, or maybe willing, to be associated with his cross, the meaning of his kingdom, too much to accept just yet.
What happened when Jesus died?
We started by saying that the question, “what happened when Jesus died?” is daunting to ask. But we’ve just listed the facts according to Luke’s biography and it’s all there on the page. And yet if it’s all there on the page, why is it still such a difficult question with which to wrestle? Well, it’s because we’re wrestling with the meaning of Jesus’ death. Not just, what happened, but what did it mean? And what did it do?
Well, for starters, it did this. Two-millennia later, the message of Jesus’ death has now spread over the face of the entire earth. We gather here now in Jesus’ name, hanging a replica of his cross on the wall. And that cross is not fixed as a symbol of power used to oppress or coerce. A cross won’t be paraded through the streets of Fort Langley on Good Friday as a threat to those who oppose an empire. It remains, however, a billboard, a sign, carrying a new message. And we’re told by the writers of the New Testament to look carefully at the billboard, and to trust the message written on the sign. What’s the message we’ve been urged to trust?
The message reads that God was in and was working through Jesus’ life and even his death. That when Jesus was announcing a new kingdom, his death was the final action in the installation of that kingdom. The message reads that that Jesus didn’t set up a political rule, but opened the floodgates to a heavenly reality on earth (kingdom come, will be done). The message on the billboard of the cross reads that God’s presence and power has upended our expectations of what God and true power must be like; that God doesn’t dominate or coerce us, but forgives and welcomes with good news of great joy for all people. The message on the billboard of the cross reads that if you want to know what God’s like, get your eyes off all those pretenders to the throne, and look at Jesus. If Jesus was who he said he was, then the message on the billboard of the cross reads that the residence of God’s very presence is no longer a fixed and restricted space on earth, like the Holy of Holies, but God’s presence can be found even now in the broken and bloody places of human life.
The message, the sign of the cross, points forward to God’s presence taking up residence in us, through and from Jesus, by the generous flood of his Holy Spirit. As the apostle Paul wrote later to a group of Christians, just like us, trying to make sense of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, “…you are God’s temple and God’s Spirit dwells in your midst…” (1 Corinthians 3.16). The message on the billboard of the cross reads that Jesus made the space where God is a space where we can be too. All of us. The powerful and the weak. The executioner and the victim. Jew and gentile, male and female, slave and free. God’s kingdom, Jesus said, is here, and it’s for everyone with equal opportunity to join in building further. Jesus’ death was the foundation for it all.
What happened when Jesus died? More than we have words to explain. Which is why we sing and eat and drink and lift our hands and kneel. What happened when Jesus died? Everything changed, and is still now changing as the message continues to spread.
What signs have our attention? What signs tell you the truth about what it means to be human? What billboards are posted over your life? What signs have others posted about you or God? What are the messages you’ve been fed or have clung to for security or hope? We invite you to study and trust the message posted on the cross. The message and meaning of Jesus’ death is unfathomably deep, we’re only just scratching the surface, but it’s also somehow wonderfully clear.
We now, unlike those first followers of Jesus, do not stand at a distance from his cross. As earthly carpenter and heavenly king, out of that cross Jesus fashioned a new billboard, a new sign. When we trust Jesus and his cross, his new sign, we come to see that the message over our lives and over his whole world reads: mercy, forgiveness, hope, and clearest of all, love.
[i] Greene, The Gospel of Luke
[ii] Cicero, 106-43BC, Pro Rabirio Postump 16
[iii] Greene, The Gospel of Luke
[iv] Rikk Watts
[v] Tom Wright, Luke for Everyone
Luke Knight 