"Last Words From the Cross" (part 1)

"Last Words From the Cross" (part 1)
Luke 23:33-34


When someone is on the threshold of death, and they breathe their last, an often asked question by those who weren’t with the person at the time of death is, “Did he/she say anything just before they died?”  It’s as if the very last words, spoken at the end of life, are somehow much more weighty than any of the words they spoke earlier in their lives.  People remember last words.

Maybe some of you have read books by C.S. Lewis.  He’s been an influential author in my life.  Lewis died on the same day John F. Kennedy was assassinated, so his death went pretty much unnoticed.  According to one of C.S. Lewis’ close friends, who was with him when he died, said that Lewis’ last words were, “It’s all kind of exciting, isn’t it?”

I’ve been thinking of something I can say, if I am conscious at all, at the point of my death, that will totally mystify people.  It would be something like, “There’s a light in the attic.”  Then I would die.  Everyone would wonder what that meant.  They would think that it’s got to be something profound, something imbued with deep spiritual meaning.  They would puzzle over it for years.  Pass the story down from generation to generation.

Probably what will happen is, after I threw out my last dying breath quip, and my soul is leaving my body, I’ll hear my daughter’s usual reply, “Quit being such an idiot, dad.”  Even in death I hope to be an embarrassment to my children, fulfilling my role as a father.

After Jesus was nailed to the cross, he made seven statements.  He’d lost a lot of blood after being whipped.  He was weak, and hurting, and his time was short.  These last seven statements from our Lord have captivated people’s attention ever since they were uttered.  Mainly because they were the last things he said.

I’m going to take a look at Jesus’ so-called, “Seven Last Words” spoken from the cross.  We’ll spend some time thinking about them during Lent, and leading up to Holy Week and Easter.  Today, we hear the first statement made as the nails were being pounded through his wrists and ankles.  The cross has not been hoisted up and planted in the hole yet.  Laying on the cross, suffering excruciating pain upon pain, with each blow of the mallet on the spikes, Jesus says, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

At first hearing, we want to loudly disagree with Jesus.  Of course those people knew what they were doing.  They were putting to death another human being.  Actually, three human beings.  They were fulfilling their orders to carry out an execution.  They were nailing three men to crosses.  They knew what they were doing.  They were putting an end to Jesus’ life in a most painful way.

But there’s another level of reality going on here, isn’t there.  On another level, these executioners are oblivious to the fact, that one of the men they were putting to death that day was actually God’s Son.  The Savior of the world.

Reading this story is like those well written plays, where the audience knows the truth about one of the characters, that the characters who are on stage don’t know or realize.  That’s the ironic, and sad tragedy of this Crucifixion scene:  not just the execution, but the ignorance of the executioners about who it is that’s being put to death.

So why is Jesus asking God to forgive them?  What, exactly, is forgivable in Jesus’ mind?  Their actions?  Their sadistic pleasure in executing people?  Their being caught in the middle of having to follow orders, even though those orders are causing them to execute an innocent man.

Or, is it their ignorance that Jesus is saying is forgivable?  They get to be forgiven simply because they’re ignorant of what is really going on?  They are being given a free pass, because they can’t see the truth behind the obvious?  Wouldn’t that open up a can of worms for criminal prosecutors and defense attorneys?  “You didn’t know what you were doing when you killed that guy, so I guess you’re off the hook.”

Also, why would Jesus need to plead for forgiveness for his executioners to God?  Couldn’t Jesus just forgive them right then and there?  Wouldn’t that take care of it?  Is the temptation, if you want to call it that, for God to be unforgiving towards these killers?  Does Jesus need to remind God of God’s forgiving nature?  Does Jesus need to jog God’s attention back to “the plan” they are working on, because the Father God is getting too caught up in the atrocity of this scene?  It would be a tough thing for any father to have to stand by and watch what is happening to his only son, even if you are God.

So what is Jesus up to, in asking for such forgiveness?  Another question, that I usually ponder when I’m looking at statements Jesus makes is, “Who is Jesus’ real audience?”  Who is Jesus actually speaking to?  Sometimes he said things to the Pharisees, but they were actually aimed at the disciples.  Sometimes he would say something to the disciples, but they were actually meant for the Pharisees, or the surrounding crowd.  So who is Jesus’ intended audience in this first, of his seven last statements?

Could it be the executioners?  (Remember, Jesus is speaking to God.)  Did Jesus make this statement, hoping that they would overhear and remember what he said after-the-fact?  What if one of these soldiers became a believer later on, and then, realizing he had a part in Jesus’ death, would be overwhelmed by that?  Is Jesus giving them something to remember so they don’t become obliterated by guilt when they realize who Jesus really is?

Or, like I already mentioned, is this statement for the disciples?  If they were there, at the Crucifixion, and not hiding out, did Jesus make this God-ward statement for their sake?  Was it important for them to hear Jesus’ forgiveness of his killers?  Most of the 12 disciples would be martyred, and die horrible deaths:  Peter crucified upside down; James sawn in half; others tarred and set on fire.  Is Jesus showing them the way, and giving them the prayer they will have to draw from when it’s their turn?

Or, could this statement of Jesus be for the crowd?  Is Jesus making an affirmation that tragic, senseless death can’t be stopped from happening in the world?  That the only thing we can do, in the face of such atrocious killing is deal with it with forgiveness.  Is Jesus teaching the bystanders that even though forgiving doesn’t condone such senseless and cold-hearted death, forgiveness does show the survivors the way through their grief?  Is Jesus teaching the people that authentic forgiveness has to do with God, can only come from God, since that’s who Jesus is addressing?

If I was in the crowd that day, hearing what Jesus said, I would have wondered how I can really forgive someone who has, in a determined sort of way, sought to do me harm?  How could Jesus find it within himself to forgive those who were pounding nails through his muscle and bone?  How can you forgive someone for that?

And who is the “them” that Jesus prays for?  Is it just the soldiers who have to do the deed?  Or is it also Herod, and Caiaphus, the Jewish Sanhedrin, and even Judas?  None of them knew what they were actually doing.  Is Jesus asking God to forgive them all?

Is this kind of forgiveness possible only because Jesus was the Savior, the Son of God?  That forgiving others is what he’s supposed to do?  But for us it’s impossible?  Does God really expect us mere mortals to be just as forgiving as Jesus towards those who hurt us deeply and physically and emotionally and psychologically?  “Impossible!” you might say.

I want to tell you three stories.  These are true stories about real people.  As I tell you these stories, I want you to ask yourself a couple of questions.  First, could you have responded as the people in these stories did?  You may respond in a quick, knee-jerk way, “No way.”  If you do answer that way, my second question is, Why not?  What is the power that Jesus tapped into that is available to all believers when evil is loosed upon us, and great harm is done?  Is there a power in this forgiveness of Christ on the cross that is way beyond our ability to comprehend?  And will we discover that power only when we, similarly to Christ, forgive?

Here’s the first story.  In 1960 Adolph Coors (one of Nick’s heroes) founder of Coors Brewery, was kidnapped and held for ransom.  He was beaten brutally and shoved in the trunk of a car.  During the the kidnap negotiations he was shot and killed.  His body was found on a remote area of the Rockies.  The kidnapper was found, convicted, and imprisoned.

At the time of the kidnapping and murder, Coors’ son, Adolph, Jr. was 15 years old.  His father was his best friend.  He created an enormous hatred in his heart for his father’s murderer.  The one thought that nagged him was, “If only I could have caught the man before the police did.”

In 1975, Adolph, Jr. became a Christian.  He became active with the group, Prison Fellowship, started by Chuck Colson.  The leader of Adolph’s group asked him one day, “Have you forgiven the man who killed your father?”
Coors replied, “Yes, in my heart I have forgiven him.”
The leader pressed further.  “Have you been to see the man personally and have you forgiven him; and not only that, have you asked him to forgive you?”
With that, Coors became angry and retorted, “Why should he forgive me?”
“Because,” said the group leader, “you have hated him for so long.”

Coors went to the penitentiary to visit the man who brutally killed his father.  He took the man a Bible.  When he gave it to him, he said, “I’m down here today because, as a Christian, I have been commanded by my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ to ask for your forgiveness.  I forgive you for the sins you have committed against our family.  And I ask you to forgive me for the hatred I have stored in my heart for you.”

In the weeks that followed, Coors told his group leader that an amazing thing had happened.  Ever since he had become a Christian, he had trouble praying.  But in the days and weeks that followed his meeting with his father’s killer, giving and asking forgiveness, prayer now flowed easily and wonderfully.

So, my question is, Could you have done that?


Here’s another story.  A missionary to Korea during the Korean War tells of an incident he witnessed.  A South Korean Christian, a civilian, was arrested by the communists and ordered shot.  When a young communist officer learned that the prisoner was in charge of an orphanage, caring for small children, he decided to spare the man and execute his son instead.  So they shot his 19 year old son in the back of the head and made the father watch his son die.

Later, after the war turned, the young communist officer was captured by United Nations forces.  He was tried and condemned to death for his war crimes.  Before the death sentence was carried out, the Christian man, whose son had been executed, pled for the life of the communist officer.  He testified that the leader had been young, and that he really didn’t know what he was doing.  (Sound familiar?)  “Give him to me,” begged the father, “and I will train him.”

The United Nations court granted the father’s request.  The father took the murderer of his son into his home and began to care for him and teach him about Christ.  That once Communist officer became the pastor of one of the largest Christian churches in Korea and the world.

So my question again is, Could you have done that?

The final story is about Goldie Bristol, who wrote a book titled, When It’s Hard to Forgive.  The book describes the horror and pain she and her husband, Bob, felt when they were told their 22 year old daughter had been raped and murdered.

After some time, Bob and Goldie decided they wanted to meet the man who had murdered their daughter.  Because of their faith in Christ, they decided they would embrace their enemy in love.  After a number of attempts to arrange a meeting with their daughter’s murderer, the man finally agreed to meet them.  Goldie wrote:
The door opened; the man entered the room.  He was about 6 feet tall, a dark-haired, muscular, cleanly dressed person.  God’s love welled up within me and overflowed.  The man paused, his eyes filling with tears.  My husband and I stood and each in turn embraced the man.  The three of us wept together.

Bob and Goldie didn’t understand why this man had murdered their daughter.  Yet they felt deep within them that they must forgive him.  After meeting him that day, they felt free, at peace, purged of anger and resentment.  Even though the man refused to accept their forgiveness of him, Goldie and Bob’s pain disappeared.

Could you have done that?

Goldie is often invited to speak at church gatherings.  People are intrigued by her experience, and what it means to really forgive someone.  She is surprised to find, though, that so many in the audiences where she speaks are hostile to her.  She is frequently attacked with questions and accused of being unloving.  People say she is naive and disrespectful concerning her daughter’s death.  But I wonder what Christ thinks of Goldie and Bob for their act of forgiveness.

I have found story after story, similar to these of people’s forgiveness in the face of evil and atrocity and deep hurt.  I hope you are thinking about any unforgiveness you may be storing in your hearts.  What do you have to learn from our Savior’s words from the cross, and the stories I have told, about the power of forgiveness?

Because I think that’s what forgiveness is:  it’s a power.  It’s a power the forgiver has over the one who is inflicting the pain.  Forgiveness is the power to cancel out even the gravest of hurts and harm.  Forgiveness is the power to not let that destructive pain become a part of who you are as a person, and define you.  Forgiveness is saying to those who are inflicting the pain, “I have power over you that you don’t understand.  And this is it:  I forgive you.”

Could you do that?