Within the current cultural current there seems to be a lot of fear mongering. Fear COVID! Fear the government! Fear the scientists! Fear the politicians! Fear the conspiracy theorists! And interestingly, within this there is a lot of accusing the other side of whatever fear fence people seem to be standing behind of living a life motivated by fear. I’m not sure fear is the problem. Jesus was anxious enough about the upcoming cross event that he sweat blood. That is fear. Or, at the very least, anxiety that dances with fear. Years ago, I heard a youngish preacher boast that he had rebuked an elderly lady for being afraid to die. Well hmm. But again, I’m not sure fear is the problem. We all of us have fears. Sometimes I am afraid to go to bed by myself. This stems from my struggle with PTSD. And that is fear. If only I trusted more in God this fear would just poof itself away. Ah, but I wax sarcastic. Or maybe I am making excuses. Maybe, if an anxiety that causes blood to seep through the pours is okay (and I’m assuming we are okay with it), other fears might not be the problem. Have I said that before?
Luke 23:44-49 is Jesus’ last moments on the cross. At about the sixth hour, around 12:00 pm, darkness happened. In 22:53 Jesus told the arresting mob “This hour and the power of darkness are yours.” Some have tried to find a natural cause for this midday darkness. London fog anyone? An eclipse used to be the favorite suggestion because of the description in verse 45, “the sun was obscured” (NASB). The word “obscured” means “failed.” But Passover is always when the moon is full, so that theory is a wash. I believe this is more than symbol. When Julius Caesar died, Virgil talked of darkness descending on Rome. This was not a literal darkness. In our passage, however, it seems more likely that literal darkness happened as a symbol. Another literal symbol was the tearing of the temple veil. At least, I believe it was literal. Though we are not told which veil, it was most likely the curtain between the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place. There are a lot of suggestions of what this symbolized: God’s grief (similar to people tearing their garments); a foreshadowing of the destruction of the temple; access to God’s presence has been opened up for all of God’s people – to name a few. It seems most likely that the symbol is about access to God through Jesus. He has prepared the way. Isn’t that nice?
Then Jesus cried out with an intense voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” And then he breathed out – a common euphemism for death. Jesus quoted Psalm 31:5. Why doesn’t Luke mention the quote from Psalm 22:1 (“My God my God, why have you forsaken me?”)? Ultimately, these psalms are about the same result: complete trust in God. The Psalm 22 quote emphasizes the dark moment before the statement of trust. The psalmist who wrote Psalm 31 is entrusting his spirit to God in life. Jesus is entrusting his spirit to God in death. He has wrestled with his anxiety in prayer. Now! Well, now he is ready to entrust his spirit into God’s hands. He cannot get himself out of the grave. He has committed his all to God’s plan. And in this darkest of moments, when the plan of God is pain and death, when Satan seems to rule the day, he entrust himself to God. Lesson anyone.
When the centurion, the commander of a hundred men, sees this he begins to praise God. Why? What did he see? I think it is Jesus’ demeanor. He prayed for forgiveness. He spoke redemption to one of the criminals. He cried out with intense commitment to God. Well, certainly this man was righteous. The NASB has “innocent,” and the word can have this idea, but the primary meaning is righteous. This man who was being hung as the worst of criminals; this man was in the right. The crowd, who may have been guilty of hurling abusive language at a beaten and dying man earlier, went home beating their chests. This is about mourning. Did they mourn their own culpability? Did they, along with the centurion, realize that this man was in the right; just; righteous? I think it likely. Luke finishes this section with a view of Jesus’ acquaintances and the women standing at a distance. These are witnesses. Men and women.
It is not about fear. We all of us have fear. It is about to whom or what do you entrust your spirit. Do you entrust your spirit to science? Nothing wrong with science. But it cannot save you. How about knowledge? Well, that is not going to save you. Your spouse, parents, preacher, elders? They may be wonderful, but don’t entrust your spirit to them. So, let’s follow Jesus’ example and cry out with an intense, booming voice, “Father, into your hands I entrust my spirit!” Fear may just feel lighter here. Grace.