Skip to main content

Reflections on the Seven Words of Jesus from the Cross: 7 Into your hands

Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Luke 23.46 (https://www.biblegateway.com NRSVA)
Matthew and Mark say variously that Jesus gave ‘a great shout’ (Mark 15.37) or that ‘he cried out again in a loud voice’ (Matthew 27.50) just before he died. John tells us that his last words were, ‘It is finished.’
Only Luke tells us that Jesus said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Remember he misses out the cry of abandonment recorded by Matthew and Mark so, as in John’s account, Jesus comes across as more assured and convinced of his destiny than either Matthew or Mark would dare to have us believe. Their accounts are much more edgy, and perhaps more psychologically convincing. If Jesus is to go through death with us, and certainly if he is to go with us through an experience like death from the Coronavirus, he has to understand what it is to feel very alone and very afraid, to be unsure even about what comes next.
And yet there is something comforting about the assurance with which Jesus meets his death in Luke’s account as he calmly commends his spirit into God’s hands. 
For all the people who have gone to their deaths in violent circumstances, or raging ‘against the dying of the light’, there have been at least as many who have either slipped away peacefully or have ended their days with quiet dignity and courage, full of assurance that they can commend their spirit into God’s care. Luke’s account speaks to them, and the more raw accounts in Matthew and Mark speak to those for whom death is harder to face because it is particularly violent, tragic or untimely.
A Prayer
Dear God, this Holy Week and Easter is a time of fear mingled with anticipation. It is unsettling and different. On the eve of Easter we mourn the way that Jesus was killed for love of you and humankind, and laid in a borrowed tomb, but we wait in hope for resurrection.
We bring to mind all those whose lives have been tragically cut short or ended suddenly by violence, accident, natural disaster or illness, and those who have been separated at the end of their life from the loved ones who would have wanted to comfort them, and who are denied the opportunity to grieve their loss and celebrate their life as they would have wished. Especially we remember the victims of conflict, and of the coronavirus, and the victims, survivors and their loved ones affected by last year's Easter bomb attacks in Sri Lanka.
We also give thanks for those who, by their quiet faith and courage at the end of their lives, have been an example to us of your resurrection power already at work among us. And so we ask you to bring new life out of death, new hope out of despair, and a new blossoming of love and compassion in place of all the other priorities that have often crowded them out. Then fear can give way to peace and sadness to joy, in Jesus' name. Amen.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I don't believe in an interventionist God

Matthew 28.1-10, 1 Corinthians 15.1-11 I like Nick Cave’s song because of its audacious first line: ‘I don’t believe in an interventionist God’. What an unlikely way to begin a love song! He once explained that he wrote the song while sitting at the back of an Anglican church where he had gone with his wife Susie, who presumably does believe in an interventionist God - at least that’s what the song says. Actually Cave has always been very interested in religion. Sometimes he calls himself a Christian, sometimes he doesn’t, depending on how the mood takes him. He once said, ‘I believe in God in spite of religion, not because of it.’ But his lyrics often include religious themes and he has also said that any true love song is a song for God. So maybe it’s no coincidence that he began this song in such an unlikely way, although he says the inspiration came to him during the sermon. The vicar was droning on about something when the first line of the song just popped into his ...

Luther and Loyola

James 1:17-27 Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23 Within Christianity there has always been a tension between two poles. At one end of the spectrum stands Martin Luther, who said that Christian faith is about trusting in God to put us right - or make us righteous - through the saving death of Jesus. Luther came to this conclusion when he was a professor of New Testament studies in a little town in Germany called Wittenberg. One year he decided to teach his students about Paul’s letter to the Romans and that’s when it suddenly dawned upon him that Christian faith is all about trust. At the other end of the spectrum , stands someone like Ignatius Loyola the founder of the Society of Jesus. He spent a lot of his later life in crisis, first struggling to overcome severe wounds that he had suffered when he was a soldier and then during two short periods locked up in a cell by the Spanish Inquisition. He came to believe that the Christian life is a similar sort of struggle, a lifelon...

Sharing the Good News With People of Other Faiths

Together with other local Christians, clergy and lay people, I find myself – from time to time – giving thought to how we share our Christian faith with people from other religious backgrounds. It is a ticklish issue, because converting from one faith to another is a huge decision to make and it may not be appropriate for everyone. Becoming a Christian is always a life changing event, but for someone from another faith background it can sometimes cause immense dislocation and hardship, including estrangement from family members and friends who cannot accept their decision. It may even cut a person off from their entire cultural heritage, so it is not something that we can expect people to enter into lightly or thoughtlessly. Nor is it likely to be easy for them to make a gradual progression or pilgrimage to Christian faith. At some point they may have to choose whether or not to make a radical break with their past, unless they decide to be secret or closet believers. And they may deci...