Friday - The Day of Crucifixion Good Friday ‘97

Over the last several weeks leading up to Easter, we have been walking with Jesus through his final week of ministry. It was a week that changed history. Here we are, 2,000 years later, commemorating the events of that week.

We have discovered that each day of that week was packed with significance. The week began on a Sunday—Palm Sunday—with jubilation and excitement as Jesus entered the city of Jerusalem at the head of a triumphal parade. The crowd thought that finally, their Messiah had come to overthrow the Romans and launch a war of liberation. So for them, Sunday was a day of celebration.

But that war of liberation never came, because Jesus had not come to be a political freedom fighter. He had come to be a spiritual freedom fighter—to set the hearts of people free.

And it was in connection with that mission that, on Monday, he cleared the Temple. He wanted all people—Jews and Gentiles—to be able to come and worship God without being used and abused by the games that sinful people play. So Monday was a day of cleansing. But what he did on Monday brought him into direct conflict with the religious authorities.

And on Tuesday, they came after him. They challenged his authority, they demanded to see his credentials, they tried to tie him up in knots by asking him tricky theological questions. Tuesday was a day of confrontation. And at the end of the day, the religious leaders had made up their minds that they had to find a way to eliminate him.

Wednesday and Thursday were quiet days. On Wednesday, Jesus attended a dinner given in his honor at Bethany. While he was there, sitting around the table with his friends, he was anointed by Mary—a beautiful act of devotion by a faithful follower.

But even while that was happening, another so-called follower, Judas Iscariot, was making plans to betray him. Wednesday and Thursday were days of commitment—days when the people around Jesus had to make up their minds what their relationship with him was going to be.

As the shadow of the cross grew closer, the issue of commitment grew clearer.

On Thursday evening, Jesus and his disciples gathered in the Upper Room to eat the Passover meal together. They spent several hours together as Jesus sought to prepare them for what was coming. At one point, Judas, the betrayer, slipped away to do his treacherous work.

Finally, with the evening growing late, they left and walked down the stairs from the upper city to the Kidron Valley. Through the shadows, they found their way to a grove of olive trees where Jesus and his disciples often met to talk and rest. It was probably owned by a friend. They called this place Gethsemane—the Garden of the Oil Press.

It was very late—probably midnight or after. The disciples were very tired, so they promptly fell asleep. It was the sleep of ignorance. Little did they know what lay ahead.

But Jesus knew. And that is why he prayed. Because now it was Friday, the day of crucifixion. The day when the Messiah would willingly lay down his life as a sacrifice. The day when the one who knew no sin would become the sin bearer for the whole human race. The day when the Son of God, who had been in eternal fellowship with the Father, would cry out “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

There are many events that took place that Friday that are fraught with spiritual significance. The trial before the Sanhedrin. The denial of Peter. The hearing before Herod and Pilate. The scourging. The release of Barabbas. The dream of Claudia. The suicide of Judas. The death march up the Via Dolorosa. Simon of Cyrene carrying the cross. The crucifixion.

But I want to focus tonight on just one small event. It’s a strange little detail about the Easter story that often goes unnoticed in our rush to understand the greater events. But when you stop and think about it, you realize that this one little incident really captures the essence of what Good Friday was all about.

The incident I’m referring to happened in the Garden of Gethsemane. It was when Peter took out a sword and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant. What could possibly be significant about that? Well, let’s go back and think about it for a minute.

Jesus has been praying in the Garden. The disciples have been snoring. But then all of a sudden, a large crowd bursts onto that tranquil scene. They are carrying torches and lanterns. Some of them are soldiers. Some of them are government officials. All of them are expecting trouble because they are heavily armed—swords, clubs, spears.

Leading this small army is none other than Judas Iscariot—former friend and follower of Jesus. The Gospel writers are still calling him “one of the Twelve”, as though they just can’t get over the fact that Judas has actually deserted them.

Turns out that this is a posse. An arrest party. They’ve been deputized by the highest authorities in the land. And they’ve come to put the collar on Jesus. To bring him in. To book him.

This is a power play—that’s why they had weapons. They were ready for a pitched battle. And Peter—good old, impetuous, talk-now-think-later, lead-with-your-mouth- and-follow-with-your-brain Peter—the guy Jesus named Rocky, probably because he had rocks in his head almost gave them what they wanted. Peter was ready to declare war.

It says in the Gospel records that Judas came up and kissed Jesus to signal that this was the man they had to arrest. And when they stepped forward to seize him, Peter whipped out a sword and took a wild swing at the high priest’s servant—a man named Malchus. He was probably trying to cut the guy’s head off, but he missed and only got his ear. (You have to realize that Peter was a fisherman. The only heads he had ever chopped off belonged to fish.)

Now at this point, I’m sure that everybody in the crowd went for their swords. You can almost hear the sound of cold steel being drawn out of leather sheath. Malchus is probably writhing in pain, a bloody hand covering the hole where his ear once was. The situation is about to hit the fan.

Then Jesus steps in and takes control. He does something very strange. Instead of congratulating Peter for sticking up for him, he rebukes him. (I’m reading from Matthew 26:52…)

“Put your sword back in its place,” Jesus said to him, “for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?”

And then he reaches out and, according to Dr. Luke, he touches the man’s ear and heals him. This is the last miracle Jesus does before the Cross. He heals a wound that one of his own followers has inflicted on one of his enemies. After this, Jesus does no more miracles.

But wouldn’t Good Friday have been a perfect day to do some really big miracles? He could have turned the soldiers into stone. Turned Pilate into a pig.

But no. The next thing Jesus did, after healing Malchus’ ear, was to hold out his hands for them to tie up. He simply and quietly surrendered. Why?

To show us that His way of dealing with evil is not our way.

On Good Friday, Satan seemed to have the upper hand. He held all the trump cards—the Jewish leaders were on his side, the Sanhedrin was on his side, the Roman governor was on his side. Even one of Jesus’ closest followers was now on his side. Things were looking pretty good. Satan was playing his cards very skillfully, or so he thought.

And life often seems to be like that today. Evil seems to be winning. Pain and sickness, heartache and death are so prevalent. It is almost as though Satan is squeezing the world in a vise.

And our tendency is to want to respond the way Peter responded. To whip out our swords and lash out. To fight fire with fire. To muster all the power and influence we can as Christians and simply impose our will on the forces of evil. To ram righteousness down their throats.

But when we do that, we are not following Jesus.

When Peter pulled out his sword, he was running ahead of God. He was trusting in the arm of flesh, just like Moses did when he killed the Egyptian. He was trying to fight a spiritual battle with physical weapons. He used the wrong weapon at the wrong time for the wrong purpose with the wrong motive.

And look at the result. Peter did not achieve his goal by what he did. And neither do we when we try to defeat evil by force. What happened was that people were left wounded and bleeding. And that’s what happens today when we try to throw our weight around as Christians.

Listen, if it were not for the fact that Jesus stepped in and healed Malchus’ ear, there probably would have been four crosses on Calvary, not three. Peter would have been hanging on the fourth.

Being a Christian means being patient when God’s power is hidden. On Good Friday, it was hidden. Jesus said “Don’t you think I could call in 12 legions of angels?” One legion has six thousand soldiers in it. There would have been 72,000 angels on the scene in an instant—one legion for Jesus and one for each of the 11 disciples. That’s the kind of power Jesus had at his disposal. But he didn’t use it.

When God hides his power, it is always to accomplish an even deeper purpose. So on Friday, Jesus let them tie up his hands—the hands that had brought the universe into being. He let them rough him up and spit on him. He let them flog him and jam a crown of thorns on his head. He let them nail spikes through his hands and feet and hang him up to die. Because God’s power was concealed for a purpose.

1 Peter 2:23 When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.

Jesus never for a moment lost sight of the fact that His heavenly Father was in control. He knew, even as he hung dying on the cross, that God could put a stop to it. He didn’t regard himself to be a victim. And as a child of God, neither should you.

It may be that you are dealing with a situation in your life that you would dearly love to see God do something about. Maybe it is some chronic physical problem or pain that you have. Maybe it has something to do with a broken relationship. Perhaps you are facing problems in your job or with your finances.

And you would like nothing better than to have God perform a miracle in that area. Use his power to fix the problem. Take the pain away. But so far, no miracle has happened.

What are you going to do? How are you going to respond? Are you going to stop trusting God? Are you going to stop believing that God loves you and cares about you? Are you going to stop believing that God has the ability to perform miracles?

Or are you going to go to the opposite extreme and start believing that God always performs miracles if you just know how to push the right buttons, or if you just have enough faith?

Or maybe, like Peter, you’re going to whip out your sword and try to find a human solution—a quick fix.

Maybe we all ought to go back to the Garden of Gethsemane and remember that God can do miracles, but he doesn’t always choose to do miracles. And when he doesn’t, it’s because he’s got something even better in mind.

On Good Friday, Jesus died. He let Satan use his ultimate weapon on him. He didn’t resist, he didn’t fight back. Satan took out that big hammer—the most powerful, fearful weapon in his whole wicked arsenal. And he hit Jesus with it—so hard that the earth shook and the sun hid its face.

And you know what happened?

The hammer broke!

If you are a Christian, you belong to the hammer-breaker society. Death has no more dominion. Satan has been disarmed. And that’s why Good Friday is so good.