Hearing the story of Jesus’ Passion hits differently when you hear it all at one time, doesn’t it? The pace of the story and the details woven into it wash over us in a more discernable way. You might sense a theme in the author’s focus…get a better feeling of what Jesus went through in his human form. Our beloved Jesus faced extreme exhaustion and grief as these stressful events went on overnight and into the next day; a body slowly giving in to torture, bleeding, and pain; a heart hurting as people he loved abandoned him and still others mocked him ceaselessly. Then, ultimately a final gasp, most likely amidst the sounds of what is commonly called a death rattle…“It is finished.”
We have moved away from the Narrative Lectionary during this Tenebrae service, a service of growing shadow echoing the growing darkness of that day long ago. Instead of Luke, we chose to solemnly reflect upon John’s witness. And among the most ancient practices of the service, sights and sounds might be added to reflect the words of the story. Thanks to Mike Moffit, we heard the occasional clang of a bell, tolling us toward Jesus’ death on the cross. In the earliest traditions, a loud bang was often created to simulate the closing of the tomb. Or, shrill lamenting might be heard as the chanting of Psalms continued. The final lit candle might be taken out of the sanctuary as if it was Jesus’ body being transported to the grave…only to have it come back again after a time of meditation. For just as John began his Gospel witness, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5).
In some traditions for Good Friday, you might hear from more than one Gospel witness, and perhaps like in a courtroom, this can help us move closer to the horrible, full truth of the events. Imagine if we had heard Matthew, Mark, or Luke, along with John this evening. We would have heard differences, nuances, and varied details, because that’s what happens when people speak truly. They don’t get their story straight. They report on what they know as best they can. As humans, we focus on and remember various things. We tell our stories differently. I argue that this attests to the truth of scripture. These words are considered so sacred that despite knowing these differences, the Church has decided to rest in their mystery. And so, amidst some glaring discrepancies and questions…not only on the our Bible’s pages but in our lives…we wait for God’s Spirit to speak to us…to help us understand…perhaps more importantly to trust.
At my former congregation, we used to have a three-hour service from noon to three where we listened to Matthew, Mark and Luke, one per hour, interspersed with silence, song, and reflections. People came and went, or they stayed for three hours, likely as people did during the crucifixion of Jesus itself. Jerusalem was a busy city after all, and it was packed with holiday excitement and people going to and fro. Then, we shared in a John-centered service that night. Still other congregations have shared in a three-hour service with multiple pastors preaching on the seven last sayings of Jesus as recorded in the Gospels. There are many more Good Friday traditions than there are Christian congregations – no one tradition perfect. For, we never can fully express or understand Jesus’ suffering. Words can never capture it. Only Jesus knows the full truth.
Certainly, there are countless creative ways to help us try to encounter the suffering and death of Jesus. I’ve used art to reflect upon the Stations of the Cross. It is not unusual, and has always been a tradition of the Church, to have Jesus reflect varied ethnicities and races. For Jesus came to draw all people to himself, and sometimes seeing ourselves reflected in Jesus’ person can make us more likely to approach him.
In movies, plays, even musicals such as Jesus Christ Superstar (now at the Riverside Center by the way), the stories are melded together to elicit an emotional response (perhaps more so than any objective accuracy). Even a number of our children recently went to the King of Kings, an animated version of Jesus’ life and Passion. As a result of the film, we overheard their young voices asking awe inspired questions, and a few tears were seen shed as Jesus died. Such artistic renderings have their place in conveying the realities of the story, for art can mirror life. It can help focus our attention on what we might have otherwise missed. It can facilitate the connection of our emotions to life…even as such efforts remain imperfect… glossing over facts, or taking artistic license at times to help the story flow.
Among my favorite Holy Week spiritual practices, I look forward to listening to Bach’s “St. John’s Passion.” It stands out for its dramatic portrayal of Jesus’ suffering, trial, and crucifixion. Its musical settings are meant to evoke emotion, not just images in your mind, because Jesus’ suffering was not just some mechanical, step by step history. It is not “just a story.” It really happened and the suffering was real with a human toll. As we contemplate how Jesus suffered and died for us…his loneliness, his own emotional desolation as people abandoned him, sadness as he gasped his last words…his life might just touch our own heart.
And if we slow down to listen closely, we find that scripture itself very well captures the truth of Roman executions. The Gospels are validated by outside histories of the day and archeology. There are three main parts to any Roman crucifixion: scourging, carrying the cross, and being hung to a cross publicly to warn others not to offend. In Jesus’ case, he was nailed. The scourging Roman soldier used a flagellum (a whip with multiple ends to tear your flesh more efficiently). You see, that would start bleeding and potentially send your body into shock.
Many have tried to guess how many times Jesus was struck. Some suggest thirty-nine times as that’s the limit under Jewish law, but it could have been more. The Gospels don’t say, and Jesus died under a Roman sentence. Many more strikes with the whip remain a possibility.
The carrying of the cross subjected one to more abuse – people hurling more than just curses at you. The fatigue helps facilitate one’s death. Then, hung on the cross, a means of execution usually reserved for the worst offenders against Rome, your death could last for days. Your body could remain on the cross to rot much longer. Again, the cross served as a warning to those who would defy the power of Rome.
Perhaps you have never considered this, but why would Jesus be offered poison instead of water to drink? For gall was usually a mixture of myrrh and vinegary, foul wine. Yes, it could serve as a painkiller or anesthetic for your suffering, slight relief though it would prove, but it wasn’t what your body longed for. And yet, even then, Jesus refuses this bitter consolation…this mockery of kindness. He chose to bear the full pain of his death…a death he would die thinking of us.
And then, why would the authorities want to break Jesus’ legs? You die on the cross from fatigue, exposure, blood loss and your system shuts down, but ultimately you can no longer support yourself in a way that you can freely breathe. Your legs give out. Your lungs cannot expand enough to welcome life-giving air. Breaking Jesus’ legs would suffocate Jesus prior to the start of the sabbath holiday…not for mercy’s sake, but out of political convenience, efficient calculation, and a nod to cultural and religious propriety. To ensure that Jesus was truly dead, that the breaking of his legs was not necessary, the Romans speared his side.
Now, I know this is graphic, horrific, seemingly inappropriate perhaps to speak about in detail at a church service, but this is indeed what Good Friday asks us to remember. Our Easter joy and our redemption come at a great cost…amidst great sadness. This should not be a surprise or a shock. For we have already heard all this from our faithful readers this evening.
It’s true! John attests to this very thing, as does our other Gospel writers. The early Christians would have known this horror well. Today, it seems far removed…almost unreal. Still…and I know this is true for me…I don’t want to understand it. I resist it. I want to gloss over it. I don’t want to believe it. It is too horrible to contemplate. Each wound, every insult, his horrid death…was for me…was for you. It is hard enough for me to accept the violence that I have seen and experienced in my life…but this? To contemplate this story makes my heart cry, and I want to push its realities away and move quickly past it toward Easter joy.
Yet, John won’t let us. He wants us to hear and contemplate the details. For even amidst the horrors of Jesus’ death…the horrors of our own life and losses…there remain signs of hope that we must recognize. Jesus said these things must happen. He died when the time was right. And through his death, prophesies and ancient promises are fulfilled.
From the prophet Zechariah 12:10, we hear that the nation would look upon the one they have pierced. Psalm 22 hinted that the Chosen One would have his garments shared among his oppressors. Pieces of clothing would be won through the casting of lots. Further, his strength would become dried up; and his tongue would cleave to his jaws…He would thirst. Then according to Psalm 34:20, none of the Messiah’s bones were to be broken…just has happened with Jesus. There are many other passages that prophetically point to Jesus’ death, but they also shout of who he is and his purpose. He came to gift us with true, abundant, and eternal life. He is our Messiah.
“It…is…finished.” Jesus’ mission…God’s plan for our salvation…was fulfilled on the cross, and Resurrection joy with a new and final age would soon begin as a direct result. Yes, Jesus wanted to fully share in our life, so he had to suffer our death, too. Even before we were ever born…Jesus was remembering us as he suffered each indignity, with every stroke of the hammer, in every tear he shed, with every faltering breath…as he died…remembering us as much as he did when forgiving the criminal at his side (recorded in Luke).
It is ultimately Jesus that asks us to remember what he went through so long ago. He wants us to have our hearts to be ripped open like his tomb would soon be, to watch and learn…to find assurance. For if anyone wants to follow after him, Jesus says that we must deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow. Peter later wrote (1 Peter 2:21), “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.”
Yes, Jesus really suffered and died, but it was because he really loves us. His death can never be understood rightly unless we also understand that suffering and death never has the final word under the sovereignty of our loving God. Jesus hopes our lives and love will be just as passionate, sacrificial, and real…that we won’t reject suffering if that cup most be drunk in order to fulfill God’s will and share God’s love concretely with others.
For through faith, we have become Christ’s body to be broken in love for the world. Fears of our own want, sin and death need not control us. They don’t have to dominate our decision-making process, worldview, or actions. We are to live in hope even as we suffer and die, for the powers of this world will never defeat us because of Jesus and his cross. Never! The dark powers of this world might still rage, but they are done for…It is they that are finished.
“So maybe today,” a non-ordained friend of mine (Robert Keith Cartwright, Facebook post, 4/18/25) so wisely urged in a reflection shared with his friends, “the invitation is this: Don’t rush through Friday. Don’t numb it. Don’t theologize it away. Don’t skip to Sunday. Let Friday do its work. Let it remind you that some of the best things come not by conquering the darkness, but by trusting God enough to walk through it.” Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 42:16 minute mark. The preaching text is John 18:1—19:42.
© 2025 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author. Scripture passages are from the NRSVue translation.
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