Good Friday at Epiphany on March 21, 2008

Mark 15:37 With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. 39 And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, "Surely this man was the Son of God!"

Crossroad 8—Dead End?

What’s the longest trip you’ve ever driven? Growing up on a farm in southeastern Wisconsin , my family rarely took long trips. Vacations were usually quick getaways to Wisconsin Dells or to a lake and cabin up North. But my Eighth Grade year we made “elaborate” plans to drive to Disney World in Florida . When you plan to sit in a van that long, traveling past flat Indiana field after flat Indiana field, followed by Kentucky hills and Tennessee mountains and traveling past little towns and seeing population signs that say “9,” traveling over 1300 miles, you better hope that the place you’re going to is worth it. You don’t want to drive for nothing. And it was worth it. The Magic Kingdom , Mickey and Goofy, the fireworks and laser shows were breathtaking and amazing. It was the best family vacation.

For the past six weeks we’ve been traveling down crossroads that our Savior took the last week of his life. In reality, the week we’ve traveled with him was only a short jaunt of his journey. He had been traveling these roads to the cross from the time he was in the cradle. In our lesson today, he reaches his destination. Is the trip worth it? To be sure, it’s a breathtaking scene, but a different kind of breathtaking. Our lesson says, “With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.”

At first, this scene seems like a wasted trip. You mean to say that Jesus did everything he did—taking on human flesh and setting aside full use of his glory—so he could hang on a piece of wood? That seems as useless as traveling cross-country on an interstate highway that winds up being a dead end. But while this Good Friday may at first glance appear to be a dead end, we soon see it was not. It wasn’t a dead end for a Roman centurion who traveled with Jesus on the crossroad to Golgotha . And it was not a dead end for us, as we continue our travels with Jesus on another crossroad.

1. Dead End? Not for the Centurion

For all intents and purposes, this had the makings of a typical day for the Roman centurion. As a captain of the Roman army, he had often heard and executed the command, “Crucify these men!” He expected that by the end of the day, whomever was entrusted to his care would be dead. He expected a dead end as he escorted Jesus to the place of the skull. And it didn’t faze him one bit. While our stomachs would feel squeamish to carry out such a command, repetition led this man to carry it out without a second thought. While we would feel sorry for the criminal who shrieked in pain as we drove nails through his hands, you wouldn’t expect a word of sympathy or a feeling of pity from this brute. If he fit the description of the day, his emotions were nonexistent. He was a stone. A rock.

And not only would that description apply to his emotions, more than likely it applied to his faith as well. For the most part, the Romans at this time did not know about the living God. Their worship centered around mythological figures, such as Mars, the god of war, or Jupiter, the god of the sky. In addition to the numerous gods and goddesses of mythology, the Romans regarded their emperors as gods. Caesar would have been this soldier’s god. With a faith resting on mythological creatures or human leaders, this centurion’s faith was dead.

But something happened to this emotionally and spiritually dead soldier on this particular Friday. There was something different about the prisoner he was guarding. And it wasn’t just one thing. If this centurion had been assigned to watch over Jesus from the time he was handed over by the Jews, this centurion would have heard Jesus explaining to Pilate how his kingdom was not of this world. He would have seen Pilate struggle to convince the people to let this man go because he couldn’t find any guilt in him. He would have heard the sermon Jesus preached to a group of women on the way to Golgotha , saying they shouldn’t weep for him. The centurion would have heard Jesus pray on his behalf, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” Under an inexplicable dark sky in the middle of the day, the centurion heard Jesus scream in agony, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He heard Jesus victoriously proclaim, “It is finished!” And then, the centurion witnessed something that perhaps impressed him most: He saw Jesus die in such a way that he did not lose his life but surrendered it by his own will. With the words, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit,” Jesus showed he was not escorted to the end, rather, he went of his own will.

It’s then, after all these miraculous signs and wonders, that the Holy Spirit records another miracle for us in his Word. On this Good Friday, we witness the miracle of faith as the Holy Spirit sprouted life in a stone-dead heart. Our lesson says, “When the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, ‘Surely this man was the Son of God!’” What seemed like a dead end was the beginning of life. This crossroad was not a dead end for the centurion. But what about for us?

2. Dead End? Not for Us

As we stand here today in front of Jesus, hearing his cries and seeing how he died, it has all the appearances of a dead end. The altar cloths are black. The hymns are in minor keys. The mood is somber. The silence you hear on the way out will be deafening. You have come here today for a funeral. You have come here today to mourn the death of Jesus.

But there’s something about this funeral that makes it more mournful than others. As we sit in our pews, we cannot escape the thought that we had a hand in this funeral. We cannot escape the anguish that our sins pinned Jesus to the cross. We can’t escape the reality that those nails should have been driven through our hands. The blood staining the ground should have been our blood. We should have been the ones suffering the torments of hell and crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We should have been the ones with parched mouths, begging, “I am thirsty.” We should have been the ones absorbing the insults of onlookers. We should have been the ones who breathed our last and died. Because of our sin, this should be our funeral. The Bible says, “As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins” (Eph 2:1). This should be our dead end. But it’s not.

Why? Because this was not a dead end for Jesus. It’s true, Jesus really died. As he breathed his last, Jesus, the Son of God, died. As the hymnwriter says, “Oh, sorrow dread! God’s Son is dead” (CW 137:2). It wasn’t a hoax. Jesus didn’t fake his death. When we question whether this was a dead end or not for Jesus, we’re not questioning the word dead. It’s the word end that we have an issue with. This Jesus, who was dead on the cross, didn’t stay dead. This was not the end. That’s why today is not just Friday, it’s Good Friday. Good Friday because of what would happen on Easter Sunday. The dead Jesus, whom you came to mourn today, would be alive. And not only would he be alive, he is alive.

And because of that, this crossroad scene we gaze at with the centurion is not a dead end for us. Rather, it’s the beginning of life, our life with Jesus. Listen to what the inspired writer has to say about how Jesus’ death brings life to you and me: “Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. . . . Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. . . . Count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Ro 6:3,4,8,11).

You can tell a lot about a person by the way he dies. Consider the example of Jim Bonham, one of the heroes of the Alamo . Jim Bonham was a fiery young lawyer from South Carolina . He had been in Texas for only three months, but his yearning for freedom left him no choice but to march alongside those Texans in their battle for liberty. He volunteered for service at the Alamo , a small mission near the Guadalupe River . As the Mexican army filled the horizon and the tiny fort poised for battle, Bonham broke through the enemy barricade and galloped eastward to Goliad for help.

In his book Texas, James Michener imagines what the soldier’s appeal must have been: “Outside were a hundred and fifty men Santa Anna has nearly two thousand already, with more on the way … What we need is for every fighting man in Texas to rush to the Alamo. Strengthen our perimeters! Give us help! Start to march now!”

No commitment was given. The only assurance Colonel Fannin gave Bonham was that he would think it over. The young Carolinian knew what that meant and he masked his anger and spurred his horse on to Vicctoria.

Michener imagines a conversation between Bonham and a young boy. “Where are you going next?” the boy asks. “To the Alamo ,” Bonham responds without hesitation. “Will you go back alone?” “I came alone.” As Bonham disappears, the boy asks his father, “If things are so bad, why does he go back in?” To which the father responds, “I doubt if he considered any other possibility.”

We don’t know if those words were said, but we know the trip was made. Bonham rode to battle certain it would be his last.

So did Jesus. You can tell a lot about a person by the way he dies. And the way Jesus marched to his death leaves no doubt – he had come to earth for this moment. Forget any suggestion that Jesus was trapped. Erase any theory that Jesus made a miscalculation. Ignore any speculation that the cross was a last-ditch attempt to salvage a dying mission. Disregard any notion that the cross was a dead end and a miserable failure.

For if you have paid attention this Lent and listened to Jesus as we have traveled with him on these crossroads, you know that Jesus died … on purpose. No surprise. No hesitation. No faltering. The only thing that came to a dead end at Calvary was death itself. For Jesus there would be life. That life is passed on to you. The cross stopped Satan in his tracks. For Jesus had crushed the serpent’s head. That victory is now yours. The pounding of the nails into Jesus’ flesh pierced sin’s power. Jesus’ cry from the cross that “It is finished” slammed shut the gates of hell to us. Now we can join the centurion in humble adoration, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

The crossroad to Jerusalem didn’t begin in Jericho . It didn’t begin in Galilee . It didn’t begin in Nazareth . It didn’t even really begin in Bethlehem . The crossroad to the cross began long before. As the echo of the crunching of the fruit was still sounding in the Garden, Jesus was leaving for Calvary .

Praise be to God that the road does not end at Calvary on Good Friday, but continues through the open grave on Easter morning. Amen.