Good Friday 2016

Good evening. My name is Mark. I'm one of the pastors here at Twin Lakes Church and I'm so glad that you've been able to join us tonight. There's something very powerful about remembering the death of Jesus and to enter into the story through music and through song to hear the seven sayings that he said on the cross. Each one of them, you know, we could ponder for hours just to soak in the richness of each one of them literally for hours, so I hope you don't have any other plans tonight. I'm just kidding, don't worry.

Just for a few moments, I want to zero in on the sixth thing that Jesus said on the cross. It comes to us from John's Gospel, chapter 19, verse 30, where Jesus says, it is finished. It is finished. Just three words. In fact, in the original Greek that John wrote this, it's just one word. Yet in any language, there are truths that are loaded, pregnant with meaning for each of our lives. Because if you've ever wondered why Jesus had to die, if you've ever wondered what is the core of the Christian message, if you've ever longed for forgiveness or comfort or hope, it's right there in those three words: it is finished.

Now, if we were there, try to imagine yourself hearing those sayings from the cross from the Lord's own mouth. I think some of them would be easier for us to understand than others. I mean, when he says, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing, we would be shocked. We would be amazed for sure, but we would get it. We would understand what he was saying. Likewise, when he says, I thirst or Woman, behold your son, again, there's a mystery to all of these things that you can dive deep into any one of them theologically. But some are more straightforward, and we would get these. Many of us here perhaps would even identify with him when he says, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Because there's been a time in your life where you have felt literally God-forsaken.

But I think if we were there, we would all be seriously puzzled when he says, it is finished. I mean, clearly, it doesn't look finished in the way that we would hope. I mean, what happens after he says this? Scripture tells us he commits his spirit to his father and he dies. He dies. Human cruelty is clearly not finished. Evil, terror, hatred, pain, death, grief—not even remotely finished. In fact, from all appearances, sin and death have carried the day. It's no wonder that his followers are bewildered. It's no wonder that they are afraid. Can you blame them? I mean, whatever they had hoped in Jesus, whatever they believed, whatever they envisioned about the future, that's what appears finished.

And remember, they don't have the rest of the story like us. That first Easter hasn't happened yet. All they know is that with their own eyes—the eyes that saw him heal the sick, that saw him give sight to the blind, that saw him even raise the dead—with those same eyes, they are looking at his lifeless body on a cross. It's finished. It's over. Perhaps there's even just a small remnant that are holding out just the last glimmer of hope, thinking that maybe he'll revive. But then those hopes are crushed when a centurion thrusts his spear into his side and water and blood flow out. It's finished. It's over. That's what we would be thinking if we were there.

Now, of course, we weren't there. But I have a strong hunch tonight that for many of us here, at various times and in various ways, those words have come crashing down on you. I mean, isn't that what our guilt and shame say to us? You're finished. You're fake. You're an epic failure. And for sure, maybe there was a time years back, maybe when you were really young, you truly felt innocent, pure even. Or perhaps that day that you first confessed your faith in Jesus and you understood his forgiveness, or the day that you first received communion and it was like you were drinking in God's grace and it just washed over you. You were so amazed. Do you remember that feeling? Have you ever had that feeling?

I can remember when I was nine years old, I felt that way. It was the day of my baptism. I remember it vividly. Nine years old. But even at nine, leading up to my baptism, I was aware that I had racked up, you know, a pretty hefty list of really wrong things. I mean, evil things, bad things. I was clear; I had no doubt I was a sinner in need of a Savior. Now, some people would say, Well, Mark, that's unfortunate that at nine years old you were confronted with guilt in life. I mean, it's too bad there weren't more people around you telling you how awesome you were. And listen, you know, I had—I remember in school we had TA for Tots. Any of you baby boomers remember that? TA for Tots, warm fuzzies and cold pricklies? I gave that a lot of cold pricklies. I had no shortage of positive affirmation, especially at home. No shortage of love. But I knew that I needed to be forgiven.

On the day of my baptism, and by the way, I didn't feel guilty because I had some sort of conflict, the conflict-guilt complex in my life. I felt guilty because I was guilty, which is what made the day of my baptism so wonderful. Because something about the physical nature of it was so tactile—going down into the water, being reminded that I was being buried with Jesus and then being raised to the newness of life in him. I felt absolutely clean, washed clean. And later that day, I guess I'd managed not to get in a fight in the car with my brother or sisters or something like that. I felt like I was, you know, still just white as snow, like I was doing little laps in my driveway on my bike and just enjoying this wonderful feeling of just purity and goodness.

I thought to myself, Wow, I have like a spotless record. I mean, if I can keep my nose clean, if I can stay on the straight and narrow for the rest of my life, that would be like batting a thousand. I mean, that would be awesome. I could be like Noah or Moses, maybe, you know, in modern times. I actually thought that. But not for long, because whatever our good intentions, whatever commitments we might make, however many times we receive Jesus at summer camp or wherever else, we discover over the course of time—and if you haven't yet, you will—that just like Noah and just like Moses, we are deeply flawed.

It's not only that we're incapable of living up to God's standard; we can't even live up to our own. Have you noticed about yourself? And so, in the aftermath of some kind of personal moral or spiritual fail, when we are sickened by our own choices, we feel dirty and grimy. An accusing voice comes to us, and that voice says, Come on, isn't it time to hang it up? I mean, seriously, you tried the Jesus thing. It's not working. It's not sticking. Good God really love you now? Seriously, it's finished. It's over. That's what sin would want us to believe. Sin would want to have the last word in our life.

And it's not just sin; it's death. Now, we don't like to think about our own mortality, so we push it away most of the time. But we're confronted by it when someone we love, someone who is dear to us, is taken away. That's when we have to reckon with the fact that our own days are numbered. And maybe for you, this is part of your daily life right now, because perhaps even in this last year, someone that you loved dearly was taken from you—old age, some sort of tragic accident, perhaps the doctors just couldn't fix what needed fixing. And you are plunged into grief, and it is all too clear in that moment that there is no negotiating with the grave. There is no turning back the clock, not even for a second. The facts will not change, no matter how much we wish they would.

And it's in that moment when we get a glimpse of what it was like to be there the day that Jesus died. What it was like to have those words ringing in your ears: He saved others, but he couldn't save himself. What it was like to look up there and know that everything you were hoping for, everything you were counting on—lifeless, powerless, gone. It's over. It's finished. Or is it really over? Because Jesus did not say, I am finished. If that were the case, if that were true, this would be a massive waste of time right now. Nor did he say, You are finished, as if to say, you know, you're on your own. Sin, death—those are your problems. It's been real; I'm out of here. He didn't say either of those things. What did he say? I want to hear you say it with me: It is finished.

Everything he came to do, he accomplished. It was finished then, it is finished now, it will be finished forever. It is absolutely completed. That's why on the night that he was arrested, the night before he would be crucified, he would say to his father, I have brought you glory on earth by finishing the work you gave me to do. I have revealed you to those whom you gave me. Man, you want to know what God is like? Jesus has revealed him. You want to know how much God loves you? Look at how far he would come to rescue us—from the glory and the perfection of heaven that we can't even begin to imagine—to a smelly, humble manger in Bethlehem, to the humiliation, the scandal, the agony of the cross.

Why would he do that? Because God loves us too much to let sin have the last word. God loves us too much to leave us lost and helpless. So it's like what the great preacher Charles Spurgeon said: I sin like a man, but he forgives like a God. And to be sure, that forgiveness did not come cheap. The wages of sin is indeed death. But look what it says in Romans 6: The death he died, he died to sin once for all. Once for all. And you show me a person who is still trying to earn God's love—a person in one way or another who thinks that they can work their way into heaven, that they can earn God's favor—I will show you a person who has not yet fully heard Jesus say, It is finished. Because there is absolutely nothing we can add to it. It doesn't need anything added to it; it's done. It's done.

And listen to me, please, because for some of us here tonight, it's not some abstract laundry list of sins. It's something in your life that haunts you, it dogs you, it accuses you. And to that thing, Jesus cried out, It is finished. It is paid in full. Amen.

But you know what? It's not just our sin that Jesus took; he also took our death. And in ways that I don't think anyone can fully explain, you actually were there on the day he died. You don't have to imagine it. In some very mysterious but very real way, you were there. And not just in the fact that, you know, like the people there that day, we're all sinners—that's the way we typically think of it. But Scripture says that we are united with Christ by faith, that your life, your sins, your death, it's all bound up in Jesus on the cross. We are united with him. That's why we're called his bride.

Back to Romans: Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was. Rest in that. Revel in that. Live in the transforming power of that. Live anticipating that, because everything we ever needed God to do for us has been done in Jesus Christ. It is finished, which means, by the way, it's not over either. The best is yet to come. We're going to delve into that a little bit more on Easter, as you might imagine. Hope you're there. But for now, let's just soak. Let's just thank God that Jesus finished everything he came to accomplish on our behalf.

Would you pray with me? Heavenly Father, we are overwhelmed by your love, your grace that would go to depths beyond our estimation. That the eternal Son of God, perfect, holy, spotless, would come and bear our sins in his own person. Lord, he would take upon him our wickedness—every thought, every deed, every violation of things we knew we ought not to do and things that we were just oblivious of in the moment. It didn't matter; you took it all. Your Son took it all upon himself. And so, Lord, in the face of such overwhelming love and forgiveness, we just want to praise you.

I pray that the person here tonight that doesn't know your forgiveness, they may understand very little, but they understand enough to say, Yes, Jesus, I want what you offer, what you did for me on that cross. I want that applied to me. Would you take my sins? The person whose faith has just become routine, I pray, Lord, that there would be a fresh understanding and appreciation and appropriation of your grace in their lives, and it would just send them out tonight just as high as a kite—just walking on air, feeling like I did at nine years old, like I am spotless, I am white as snow.

For all of us, Lord, comfort us, because indeed the best is ahead of us. Every day of this life, Lord, we march one day closer to you in all that you have for us. And we praise you. We thank you for that. We trust you, because if you would not spare your Son on our behalf, how would you withhold any good thing from us? We pray these things in the matchless name of Jesus Christ, our Savior, who died for us. It's in his name we pray. Amen.