Father, 'into Your hands I commit My spirit.'

Now it was about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. Then the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was torn in two. And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said, "Father, 'into Your hands I commit My spirit.'" Having said this, He breathed His last. So when the centurion saw what had happened, he glorified God, saying, "Certainly this was a righteous Man!" And the whole crowd who came together to that sight, seeing what had been done, beat their breasts and returned. But all His acquaintances, and the women who followed Him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.

Now behold, there was a man named Joseph, a council member, a good and just man. He had not consented to their decision and deed. He was from Arimathea, a city of the Jews, who himself was also waiting for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a tomb that was hewn out of the rock, where no one had ever lain before. That day was the Preparation, and the Sabbath drew near. And the women who had come with Him from Galilee followed after, and they observed the tomb and how His body was laid. Then they returned and prepared spices and fragrant oils.

And they rested on the Sabbath according to the commandment.

- Luke 23:44-56

On Saturday, we read of Jesus' crucifixion. We read of the mocking He endured, and the inscription on the cross: THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS. As He was put on the cross, Jesus prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do." While those who crucified Him treated Him with contempt, a scene played out between Jesus and the two criminals who were crucified with Him. One said to the other, who mocked Jesus, "Do you not fear God?" He said they had done the deeds with which they were accused, but Jesus had done nothing wrong. He said, "Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom." And Jesus said to him, "Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise."

Now it was about the sixth hour . . . My study bible notes that this hour -- which is noon -- is about the same time the paschal lambs were ritually killed. Jesus is our "Lamb of God" who has spoken of the covenant for which His blood is shed.

. . . and there was darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. Then the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was torn in two. This picture gives us a sense of what has happened in a cosmic sense of the crucifixion: the Lamb of God is put to death by His own, those whom He loves. The darkening of the sun at noon is an extraordinary symbol of the world turned upside down, the hour of darkness. Much, of course, has been said and written about the veil of the temple. But what is clear is that this act of covenant binds us in a way that makes God more immediate for us. He will "come in and sup with us" and dwell with us, as He dwelt incarnate in the world.

And when Jesus had cried out with a loud voice, He said, "Father, 'into Your hands I commit My spirit.'" Having said this, He breathed His last. This quotation is from Psalm 31 (verse 5). Reading the Psalm, we are given a picture of what is happening. My study bible points out that Luke omits the cry of Christ found in Mathew and Mark, "and underscores His total trust in God to His last human breath." But if you read Psalm 22, you will find the cry -- and also a Psalm of total trust in God. Both Psalms give us a prophetic picture of what is happening to Him -- and a clear understanding of what He is doing in the last moments of His human life. He is praying.

So when the centurion saw what had happened, he glorified God, saying, "Certainly this was a righteous Man!" And the whole crowd who came together to that sight, seeing what had been done, beat their breasts and returned. But all His acquaintances, and the women who followed Him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things. In the midst of the greatest tragedy which we are reading about, there are moments of great gifts of mercy: Jesus' prayer for forgiveness on the cross, the repentance of the thief (both of which we read about on Saturday), Simon of Cyrene carrying Jesus' cross, and now this -- the conversion of the centurion. "The whole crowd" clearly understands what has happened. But those who know Him, and who love Him -- such as the women who've followed Him from Galilee -- are standing at a distance watching the whole drama and tragedy from afar.

Now behold, there was a man named Joseph, a council member, a good and just man. He had not consented to their decision and deed. He was from Arimathea, a city of the Jews, who himself was also waiting for the kingdom of God. This man went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Then he took it down, wrapped it in linen, and laid it in a tomb that was hewn out of the rock, where no one had ever lain before. That day was the Preparation, and the Sabbath drew near. Another light of mercy, in this terrible situation: Joseph of Arimathea is a high-ranking man, a member of the council who has not agreed with what has happened. Matthew calls him "a disciple of Jesus." So, it is important that we understand that not all the leaders are in agreement about Jesus, and we can't generalize even about those who make up the ruling body of the temple and whether or not they oppose Jesus. Joseph is "a good and just man." It takes great courage to do as he does -- to go to Pilate and ask for Jesus' body, and to give Him such a burial. This is the courage of faith, of witnessing. It is a glimmer of the beginning of what will be required from all of His disciples.

And the women who had come with Him from Galilee followed after, and they observed the tomb and how His body was laid. Then they returned and prepared spices and fragrant oils. And they rested on the Sabbath according to the commandment. Once again, Luke returns to the women in this story, about whom he has so often written. Here is another glimmer of the light of mercy, in this terrible tragedy. They love Jesus, and now -- as a reflection of the earlier act of great love expressed by Mary of Bethany, it is the women from Galilee who will prepare His anointing for burial. That they are devout is something we need to understand. The following day is the Sabbath.

I am intrigued today by the sprinkling of "tender mercies" in this scene of overwhelming tragedy. Indeed, the tragedy of this day we can perhaps not fully calculate, given that we can't understand the infinitude of God's reality. But we can understand the glimmers of mercy, the light of truth, that we find even here. Among the darkest hour of our history that we read in the Gospel, there is repentance and love. There is tremendous forgiveness. There is entry into the kingdom. There is conversion. There is the courage of Joseph. And there is the love of the women. All of these things add up to proclaim that the rule of darkness is never complete -- it never wins the total victory that it seeks. And of course there is a great light that we know will come once again and forever for us all from that empty tomb. But for now, let us take note: even in our darkest times, the victory doesn't belong to the dark.

Do not withhold Your tender mercies from me, O LORD;
Let Your lovingkindness and Your truth continually preserve me. (Psalm 40:11)