Taken from Rev. George Gritter’s book, LISTENING TO GOD ON CALVARY, the following is presented as a meditation appropriate for April, the month of Good Friday and Easter. This excerpt is reprinted by permission of the author and of the publisher, Baker Book House. Rev. Gritter is pastor of the Alger Park Christian Reformed Church of Grand Rapids, Michigan.
That final hour for our Savior on Calvary’s cross was the hour of death. As the Sinless One He was free from death’s power and penalty; but as the Christ, the Substitute for sinners, He voluntarily subjected Himself to death’s claim. As a result, His incarnation was synonymous with humiliation. In all His perfect living there was also much of painful dying. And now the crucial and climactic moment had arrived. He is lead as a lamb to the slaughter. As the great High Priest He must now offer the sacrifice. The hour has come in which He, the Savior of sinners, shall lay down His life for the redemption of His people.
Who can grasp the full import of this moment? Revelation and mystery are intertwined. We accept what is made known; we bow before that which remains hidden. Humbly we ask: What does it mean that Jesus died? What does it mean that He died for sinners? Did He die for me?
No one can explain what death really is. Those who speak of it, have not yet experienced it; and those who have experienced it, are silent. We know something about it by observation and investigation; we know more about it through revelation. Yet in the presence of death we feel somewhat like Alfred Lord Tennyson, who stood in the presence of life as displayed in the little blossom on a garden wall, and exclaimed,
“Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower—but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.”
We turn to the Word of God. We pray for light, and light is given. And we learn that it is unnatural and shameful for men to die. Death is the consequence of transgression. It is the wages of sin. It speaks of Satan’s power, God’s judgment, and man’s guilt. It is the logical and inevitable end of the rupture brought about by sin—the rupture between man and his fellow-men, man and nature, man and God. And within man himself it is the tearing asunder of soul and body. It deprives man of the great blessing of life which is necessary for the enjoyment of any other blessing that God imparts.
If death is describable, it nevertheless remains indefinable. Fulton J. Sheen speaks of this in graphic fashion, “When Adam had been driven from the garden of Paradise and the penalty of labor imposed upon him, he went out in quest of the bread he was to earn by the sweat of his brow. In the course of that search he stumbled upon the limp form of his son, Abel, picked him up, carried him on his shoulders, and laid him on the lap of Eve. They spoke to him but Abel did not answer. He had never been so silent before. They looked into his eyes, cold, glassy, mysteriously elusive. They had never been so unresponsive before. They wondered and as they wondered their wonder grew, and then they remembered, ‘For in the day sover that thou shalt eat of the tree, thou shalt die.’”
That was the first death in the world, and many people have died since. And yet the mystery remains, and it even grows as we stand on Calvary and are overwhelmed by what transpired as described in the words, “And He bowed His head and gave up the ghost.”
We walk humbly and reverently in the presence of death, thankful that we can do so in the light of God’s truth. For the pious, the time of evening sacrifice was also the time for prayer. And as Jesus offers the supreme sacrifice of Himself, we too ponder and pray. “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.” And in the moment of death we hope and wait for the message of life.
We sense the uniqueness of this event. For this is not the death of a man; it is the death of the man. And our wonderment turns into amazement. For death is for sinners; not for the Savior. Jesus of Nazareth is the Prince of life and the Master of death. This is evident from His words and deeds.
The daughter of Jairus lies lifeless but the Lord of life and death bids her “arise” and she does (Mark 5:41, 42). A widow follows the body of her son about to be laid in a grave, but Jesus approaches and commands that he shall live (Luke 7:11–17). And only a few days before His crucifixion He stands at the tomb of a friend in Bethany, and says, “Lazarus, come forth (John 11:43–44). And in all this He is presenting proof of His sovereign assertion, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25).
There can be only one explanation. Jesus died as a substitute. He was the Lamb God provided. He was numbered with the transgressors. He took the place of sinners and died in their stead.
If the death of Jesus was unique, remember that it was also miraculous. This was true of His birth, life, and ministry. It was true also of His death. It was and remains a miracle.
The death of Jesus was not an accident; it was an act. Jesus died because He chose to die. He did not lose His life; He dismissed it. He had said, “For this cause doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life and take it again” (John 10:17 ). He had indicated that in His death He would not be a victim, and would be more than a martyr. And as He relinquished His spirit into the hands of the Father and gave up the ghost, He demonstrated that sovereign grace and power which is the gospel of Jesus Christ. In His death He as prophet proclaimed the message of God’s saving love as it had never be· fore been proclaimed; as king He went out to vanquish the last enemy of His people to deliver them from the bondage of death in which they were held; and as priest He offered the sacrifice which was required for His people’s salvation.
This hour of death was the great Passover of God. When the Passover was observed twenty-four courses of priests were busy in the courtyard of the temple. Thousands of lambs were slain and sacrificed. But these had no meaning except to prophesy and symbolize the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world. And Jesus was that Lamb. This was the great day of atonement.
Unhesitatingly and sacrificially Jesus performed His task Nothing should remain undone. He had come too far to turn back now. For this very purpose He had come and nothing would deter Him from fulfilling the very goal of His incarnation. He had prayed for His enemies, had said farewell to His friends, had opened the gates of paradise for a penitent, had endured the agony of forsakenness and thirst, and had announced His sure victory. And now, though only thirty-three, in the prime and strength of life, He would die. He was strong enough to live, but He was willing enough to die. In His ministry of love He would minister to the uttermost; and in giving Himself, He would give all.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a friend” (John 15:13). But greater love hath God, for the Son of God lays down His life for His enemies. This is grace unfathomable, matchless, infinite. This is the grace of God. What man cannot do, God does. The penalty must be paid and God in His Son pays it all. The atonement never means that God is an eternally unforgiving Shylock exacting His pound and even the last ounce of flesh. It means that He is the God of holy justice and infinite mercy who opens the way that was closed and restores the life that had been lost.
This hour of death was an awful hour. It was a holy moment. The angels watched with breathless excitement. Satan sensed and suffered eternal defeat. And salvation was born. The saints of God shall live and live forever.
“I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).
That final hour for our Savior on Calvary’s cross was the hour of death. As the Sinless One He was free from death’s power and penalty; but as the Christ, the Substitute for sinners, He voluntarily subjected Himself to death’s claim. As a result, His incarnation was synonymous with humiliation. In all His perfect living there was also much of painful dying. And now the crucial and climactic moment had arrived. He is lead as a lamb to the slaughter. As the great High Priest He must now offer the sacrifice. The hour has come in which He, the Savior of sinners, shall lay down His life for the redemption of His people.
Who can grasp the full import of this moment? Revelation and mystery are intertwined. We accept what is made known; we bow before that which remains hidden. Humbly we ask: What does it mean that Jesus died? What does it mean that He died for sinners? Did He die for me?
No one can explain what death really is. Those who speak of it, have not yet experienced it; and those who have experienced it, are silent. We know something about it by observation and investigation; we know more about it through revelation. Yet in the presence of death we feel somewhat like Alfred Lord Tennyson, who stood in the presence of life as displayed in the little blossom on a garden wall, and exclaimed,
“Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies, I hold you here, root and all, in my hand, Little flower—but if I could understand What you are, root and all, and all in all, I should know what God and man is.”
We turn to the Word of God. We pray for light, and light is given. And we learn that it is unnatural and shameful for men to die. Death is the consequence of transgression. It is the wages of sin. It speaks of Satan’s power, God’s judgment, and man’s guilt. It is the logical and inevitable end of the rupture brought about by sin—the rupture between man and his fellow-men, man and nature, man and God. And within man himself it is the tearing asunder of soul and body. It deprives man of the great blessing of life which is necessary for the enjoyment of any other blessing that God imparts.
If death is describable, it nevertheless remains indefinable. Fulton J. Sheen speaks of this in graphic fashion, “When Adam had been driven from the garden of Paradise and the penalty of labor imposed upon him, he went out in quest of the bread he was to earn by the sweat of his brow. In the course of that search he stumbled upon the limp form of his son, Abel, picked him up, carried him on his shoulders, and laid him on the lap of Eve. They spoke to him but Abel did not answer. He had never been so silent before. They looked into his eyes, cold, glassy, mysteriously elusive. They had never been so unresponsive before. They wondered and as they wondered their wonder grew, and then they remembered, ‘For in the day sover that thou shalt eat of the tree, thou shalt die.’”
That was the first death in the world, and many people have died since. And yet the mystery remains, and it even grows as we stand on Calvary and are overwhelmed by what transpired as described in the words, “And He bowed His head and gave up the ghost.”
We walk humbly and reverently in the presence of death, thankful that we can do so in the light of God’s truth. For the pious, the time of evening sacrifice was also the time for prayer. And as Jesus offers the supreme sacrifice of Himself, we too ponder and pray. “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.” And in the moment of death we hope and wait for the message of life.
We sense the uniqueness of this event. For this is not the death of a man; it is the death of the man. And our wonderment turns into amazement. For death is for sinners; not for the Savior. Jesus of Nazareth is the Prince of life and the Master of death. This is evident from His words and deeds.
The daughter of Jairus lies lifeless but the Lord of life and death bids her “arise” and she does (Mark 5:41, 42). A widow follows the body of her son about to be laid in a grave, but Jesus approaches and commands that he shall live (Luke 7:11–17). And only a few days before His crucifixion He stands at the tomb of a friend in Bethany, and says, “Lazarus, come forth (John 11:43–44). And in all this He is presenting proof of His sovereign assertion, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25).
There can be only one explanation. Jesus died as a substitute. He was the Lamb God provided. He was numbered with the transgressors. He took the place of sinners and died in their stead.
If the death of Jesus was unique, remember that it was also miraculous. This was true of His birth, life, and ministry. It was true also of His death. It was and remains a miracle.
The death of Jesus was not an accident; it was an act. Jesus died because He chose to die. He did not lose His life; He dismissed it. He had said, “For this cause doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life and take it again” (John 10:17 ). He had indicated that in His death He would not be a victim, and would be more than a martyr. And as He relinquished His spirit into the hands of the Father and gave up the ghost, He demonstrated that sovereign grace and power which is the gospel of Jesus Christ. In His death He as prophet proclaimed the message of God’s saving love as it had never be· fore been proclaimed; as king He went out to vanquish the last enemy of His people to deliver them from the bondage of death in which they were held; and as priest He offered the sacrifice which was required for His people’s salvation.
This hour of death was the great Passover of God. When the Passover was observed twenty-four courses of priests were busy in the courtyard of the temple. Thousands of lambs were slain and sacrificed. But these had no meaning except to prophesy and symbolize the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world. And Jesus was that Lamb. This was the great day of atonement.
Unhesitatingly and sacrificially Jesus performed His task Nothing should remain undone. He had come too far to turn back now. For this very purpose He had come and nothing would deter Him from fulfilling the very goal of His incarnation. He had prayed for His enemies, had said farewell to His friends, had opened the gates of paradise for a penitent, had endured the agony of forsakenness and thirst, and had announced His sure victory. And now, though only thirty-three, in the prime and strength of life, He would die. He was strong enough to live, but He was willing enough to die. In His ministry of love He would minister to the uttermost; and in giving Himself, He would give all.
“Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for a friend” (John 15:13). But greater love hath God, for the Son of God lays down His life for His enemies. This is grace unfathomable, matchless, infinite. This is the grace of God. What man cannot do, God does. The penalty must be paid and God in His Son pays it all. The atonement never means that God is an eternally unforgiving Shylock exacting His pound and even the last ounce of flesh. It means that He is the God of holy justice and infinite mercy who opens the way that was closed and restores the life that had been lost.
This hour of death was an awful hour. It was a holy moment. The angels watched with breathless excitement. Satan sensed and suffered eternal defeat. And salvation was born. The saints of God shall live and live forever.
“I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live, yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).