REFORMED WITNESS
Volume IX, April 2001, Number 4
Lord Remember Me
A meditation by Rev. G. M. Ophoff from the April 1, 1940 issue of The Standard Bearer.
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"And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on Him. . . . But the other answering rebuked him. . . And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou come into thy kingdom." - Luke 23:39-43
Also in this issue: Lama Sabachthani? - A meditation by Prof. Herman Hoeksema
Strange, certainly, that among those who rail at Jesus at such a time, one of those crucified along with him should be numbered. Those brought out to share together the shame and agony of a public execution have generally looked on each other with a kindly and indulgent eye. Outcasts from the world's sympathy, they have drawn largely upon the sympathy of one another. Since they were to die thus together, they have desired to die in peace. Many an old, deep grudge have been buried at the gallows foot. But here, where there is nothing to be mutually forgotten, nothing to be forgiven, nothing whatever to check the operation of that common law by which community in suffering begets sympathy, here instead of sympathy there is scorn; instead of pity, reproach. What called forth such feelings at such a time and from such a quarter? In part it may have been due to the circumstance that it was upon Jesus that the main burden of public reproach was flung. Bad men like to join with others in blaming those who either are, or are supposed to be, worse men than themselves. And so it may have brought something like relief, may even have ministered something like gratification to this man to find that when brought out for execution, the tide of public indignation directed itself so exclusively against Jesus -- by making so much more of whose criminality, he thinks to make so much less of his own. Or, is it the spirit of the religious scoffer that vents here its expiring breath? All he sees and all he hears -- those pouting lips, those wagging heads, those upbraiding speeches -- tell him what it was in Jesus that had kindled such enmity against him, and too thoroughly does he go in with this spirit which is rife around the cross, not to join in the expression of it, and so whilst others are railing at Jesus, he too will rail. It is difficult to give any more satisfactory explanation of his conduct, difficult in any case like this to fathom the depths even of a single human spirit; but explain it as you may, it was one drop added to the cup of bitterness which our Lord that day took into his hands and drunk to the very dregs, that not only were His enemies permitted to do with Him what they would, but the very criminal who is crucified by His side deems himself entitled to cast such reproachful sayings in His teeth.
But he is not suffered to rail at Jesus unrebuked, and the rebuke comes most appropriately from his brother malefactor, who turning upon him says, "Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation?" "Dost not thou fear God?"-- he does not need to say, Dost thou not fear man? for man has already done all that man can do. But, Dost not thou fear God? He knows then that there is a God to fear, a God before whose bar he and his brother-sufferer are soon to appear; a God to whom they shall have to give account, not only for every evil action that in their past lives they have done, but for every idle word that in dying they shall speak. He knows it now, he feels it now (had he known and felt it sooner, it might have saved him from hanging on that cross), that over and above the condemnation of man which he had so lightly thought of and so fearlessly had braved, there is another and weightier condemnation, even that of the great God into whose hands, as a God of judgment it is a fearful thing for the impenitent to fall.
"And we indeed justly." There is no questioning of the proof, no quarreling with the law, no reproaching of the judge. He neither thinks that his crime was less heinous than the law made it, nor his punishment greater than the crime deserved. Nor do you hear from this man's lips what you so often hear from men placed in like circumstances, the complaint that he had been taken and he must die, whilst so many others, greater criminals than himself, are suffered to go at large unpunished. At once and unreservedly he acknowledges the justice of the sentence, and in so doing, shows a spirit penetrated with a sense of guilt. Not only is he thoroughly convinced of his own guilt, but also he is as thoroughly convinced of Christ's innocence. "We indeed justly" -- for we receive the due reward of our deeds -- "but this man hath done nothing amiss." Little as he may have seen or known before of Jesus, what he had witnessed had entirely convinced him that His was a case of unmerited and unprovoked persecution; that He was an innocent man whom these Jews, to gratify their own spleen, to avenge themselves in their own ignoble quarrel with Him, were hounding to the death.
But he goes much further than to give expression merely to his conviction of Christ's innocence -- and it is here we touch upon the spiritual marvels of this extraordinary incident. Turning from speaking to his brother malefactor, fixing his eye upon and addressing himself to Jesus as He hangs upon the neighboring cross, he says, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." How came he at such a time and in such circumstances to call Jesus Lord; how came he to believe in the coming of His kingdom? It is going the utmost length to which supposition can be carried to imagine that he had never met with Jesus till he had met Him that morning to be led out in company with Him to Calvary. He saw the daughters of Jerusalem weeping by the way; he heard those words of Jesus which told of the speaker's having power to withdraw the veil which hides the future; he had seen and read the title nailed above Christ's head proclaiming Him to be the King of the Jews; from the lips of the passers-by, of the Chief Priests, the elders and the soldiers, he had gathered that this Jesus now dying by his side, had saved others from that very death He is Himself about to die, had professed a supreme trust in God, had claimed to be the Christ, the Chosen, the Son of God; and he had seen and heard enough to satisfy him that all which Jesus had claimed to, be He truly was. Such were some of the materials put by Divine Providence into this man's hands whereon to build his faith; such the broken fragments of the truth loosely scattered in his way. He takes them up, collects, combines; the Enlightening Spirit shines upon the evidence thus afforded, shines in upon his quickened soul; and there brightly dawns upon his spirit the sublime belief that in that strange sufferer by his side he sees the long-promised Messiah, the Saviour of mankind, the Son and equal of the Father, who now, at the very time that his mind has opened to a sense of his great iniquity, and he stands trembling on the brink of eternity, reveals Himself so near at hand, so easy of access. His faith, thus quickly formed, goes forth into instant exercise, and turning to Jesus, he breathes into his convenient ear the simple but ardent prayer, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom."
The hostile multitude around are looking forward to Christ's approaching death, as to that decisive event which shall at once and forever scatter to the winds all the idle rumors that have been rife about Him, all His vain pretensions to the Messiahship. The faith of Christ's own immediate followers is ready to give way before that same event, they bury it in His grave, and have only to say of Him afterwards, "We hoped that it had been He that should have redeemed Israel." Yet here amid the triumph of enemies and the failure of the faith of friends, is one who, conquering all the difficulties that sense opposes to its recognition, discerns, even through the dark envelope which covers it, the hidden glory of the Redeemer, and openly hails Him as his Lord and King. Marvelous indeed the faith in our Lord's divinity which sprung up so suddenly in such an unlikely region, which shone out so brightly in the very midnight of the world's unbelief. Are we wrong in saying that, at the particular moment when that testimony to Christ's divinity was borne, there was not another full believer in that divinity but this dying thief? If so, was it not a fitting thing that He who was never left without a witness now, when there was but one witness left, should have had this solitary testimony given to His divinity at the very time when it was passing into almost total eclipse, so nearly, wholly shrouded from mortal vision? There were many to call Him Lord when He rose triumphant from the tomb; there is but one to call Him Lord, as He hangs dying upon the cross.
But let us look upon the prayer of the dying thief not only as a public testimony to the kingly character and prerogative of Jesus, but also as the prayer of individual, appropriating faith; the earnest, hopeful, trustful application of a dying sinner to a dying Savior. His ideas of Christ's character and office may have been obscure; the nature of that kingdom into possession of which he was about to enter, he may have but imperfectly understood. He knew it, however, to be a spiritual kingdom. He felt that individually he had forfeited his right of admission to its privileges and its joys; he believed that it lay with Jesus to admit him into that kingdom. Not with a spirit void of apprehension may he have made his last appeal. It may have seemed to him a very doubtful thing whether, when relieved from the sharp pains of crucifixion, the suffering over and the throne of the kingdom reached, Jesus would think of him amid the splendors and the joys of his new kingly state. Doubts of a kindred character have often haunted the hearts of the penitent, the hearts of the best and the holiest. But there were two things of which he had no doubt, that Jesus could save him if He would, and if He did not, he should perish. It is out of these two simple elements that genuine faith is always formed, a deep, pervading, subduing consciousness of our unworthiness, a simple and entire trust in Christ.
It has been often and well said tha t-- whilst this one instance of faith in Jesus formed at the eleventh hour is recorded in the New Testament in order that none, even to the last moment of their being should despair -- there is but this one instance and none may presume upon a death-bed repentance. Even this instance teaches most impressively that the faith which justifies always sanctities; that the faith which brings forgiveness and opens the gates of Paradise to the dying sinner carries with it a renovating power; that the faith which conveys the title, works at the same time the meetness for the heavenly inheritance. Let a man die that hour in which he truly and cordially believes, that hour his passage into the heavenly kingdom is made secure; but let a window be opened that hour into his soul, let us see into all the secrets thereof, and we shall discover that morally and spiritually there has been a change in inward character corresponding to the change in legal standing or relationship with God. It was so with this dying thief. True, we have but a short period of His life before us, and in that period only two short sayings to go upon; happily, however, sayings of such a kind, and spoken in such circumstances, as to preclude all doubt of their entire honesty and truthfulness, and what do they reveal of the condition of that man's mind and heart? What tenderness of conscience is here, what deep reverence for God; what devout submission to the divine will; what entire relinquishment of all personal grounds for confidence before God; what a vivid realizing of the world of spirits; what a humble trust in Jesus; what a zeal for the Savior's honor; what an indignation at the unworthy treatment He was receiving! May we not take that catalogue of the fruits of genuine repentance which an apostle has drawn up for us and applying it here, say of this man's repentance, Behold what carefulness it wrought in him; yea, what clearing of himself; yea, what indignation; yea, what fear; yea, what vehement desire; yea, what zeal; yea, what revenge! In all things he approved himself to be a changed man in his desires and dispositions and purposes of heart. The belief has been expressed that in all the earth there was not at that particular moment such a believer in the Lord's divinity as he; would it be going too far to couple with that belief this, that in all the earth and at that moment there was not another man inwardly riper and readier for entrance into Paradise?
"Lord, remember me when thou cometh into thy kingdom." Loud and angry voices have for hours been ringing in the vexed ear of Jesus -- voices whose blasphemy and inhumanity wounded Him far more than the more personal antipathy they breathed. Amid these harsh and grating sounds, how new, how welcome, how grateful this soft and gentle utterance of desire, trust, and love! It dropped like a cordial upon the fainting spirit of our Lord, the only balm that earth came forth to lay upon His wounded spirit. Let us too be grateful for that one soothing word addressed to the dying Jesus, and wherever the gospel is declared let these words which that man spake be repeated in memorial of Him.
"Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." He will not ask to be remembered now; he will not break in upon this season of his Lord's bitter anguish. He only asks that, when the sharp pains of His passion shall be over, the passage made, and the throne of the kingdom won, Jesus will in His great mercy then think of him. Jesus will let him know that he does not need to wait so long; He will let him know that the Son of man hath power even on earth to forgive sin; that the hour never cometh when His ear is so heavy that it cannot hear, His hand shortened that it cannot save; the prayer has scarce been offered when the answer comes, "Verily, I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise."
The lips may have trembled that spake these words; soft and low may have been the tone in which they were uttered, but they were words of power, words which only one Being who ever wore human form could have spoken. His divinity is acknowledged the moment it is so, it breaks forth into bright and beautiful manifestation. The hidden glory bursts through the dark cloud that veiled it, and, in all His omnipotence to save, Jesus stands revealed. What a rebuke to His crucifiers! They may strip His mortal body of its outward raiment, which these soldiers may divide among them as they please; His human soul they may strip of its outer garment of the flesh, and send forth unclothed into the world of spirits. But His kingly right to dispense the royal gift of pardon, his power to save, can they strip Him of that? Nay, little as they know, they are helping to clothe Him with that power at the very time when they think they are laying all His kingly pretensions in the dust. He will not do what they had so often in derision asked Him that day to do -- He will not come down from the cross -- He will not give that proof of His divinity. He will not put forth His almighty power by exerting it upon the world of matter. But on this very cross, He will. give a higher proof of His divinity. He will exert that power, not over the world of matter but over the world of spirits, by stretching forth His hand and delivering a soul from death and carrying it with Him that day into Paradise.
"Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise." Jesus would not rise from the sepulchre alone; He would have others rise along with Him. And so, even as He dies, the earthquake does its allotted work, work so strange for an earthquake to do -- it opens not a new grave for the living, it opens the old graves of the dead; as the third morning dawns, from the opened graves the bodies of the saints arise with the rising body of the Lord -- types and pledges of the general resurrection of the dead, verifying by their appearance in the Holy City the words of ancient prophecy: "Thy dead men shall live, together with my dead body shall they arise. Awake and sing, ye that dwell in the dust; for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the earth shall cast out her dead." And as Jesus would not rise from the sepulchre alone, so neither will He enter Paradise alone. He will carry one companion spirit with Him to the place of like blessed, thus early giving proof of His having died upon that cross that others through His death might live and live for ever. See then, in the ransomed spirit borne that day to Paradise, the first trophy of the power of the uplifted cross of Jesus! What saved this penitent thief? No water of baptism was sprinkled upon him; at no table of communion did he ever sit; of the virtue said to be in sacramental rites he knew nothing. It was a simple believing look of a dying sinner upon a dying Savior that did it. And that sight has lost nothing of its power. Too many alas! have passed, are still passing by that spectacle of Jesus upon the cross, going one to his farm, another to his merchandise, and not suffering it to make its due impression on their hearts; but thousands upon thousands of the human race -- we bless God for this --have gazed upon it with a look kindred to that of the dying thief, and have felt it exert upon them a kindred power. Around it, once more, let me ask you all to gather. Many here, I trust, as they look at it can say with adoring gratitude, He loved me; He gave Himself for me; He was wounded for my transgressions, He was bruised for mine iniquity, He is all my salvation, He is all my desire. Some may not be able to go so far; yet there is one step that all of us who are in any degree alive to our obligations to redeeming love can take, one prayer that we may offer, and surely if that petition got so ready audience when addressed to Jesus in the midst of His dying agonies, with certain hope of no less favorable audience may we take it up, shaping it to meet our case, we may say, "Now that thou hast gone into thy kingdom, O Lord remember me".
Yet once more let the words of our Lord be repeated, "Today shalt thou be with me in paradise:" But where is this Paradise; what is this Paradise? We can say, in answer to these questions, that with this heavenly Paradise into which the redeemed at death do enter, the ancient, the earthly Paradise is not fit to be compared. In the one, the direct intercourse with God was but occasional; in the other it shall be constant. In the one, the God was known only as He revealed Himself in the works of creation and in the ways of His providence, in the other, it will be as the God of our redemption, the God and Father of our Lord and Savior Jesus, that He will be recognized, adored, obeyed -- all the higher moral attributes of His nature shining forth in harmonious and illustrious display. Into the earthly Paradise the Tempter entered; from the heavenly he will be shut out. From the earthly Paradise sad exiles once were driven, from the heavenly we shall go no more out forever. Still, however, after all such imperfect and unsatisfying comparisons, the questions return upon us, Where, and what is this Paradise of the redeemed? Our simplest and our best answers to those questions perhaps are these -- Where is Paradise? wherever Jesus is. What is Paradise? to be forever with, and to be fully like our Lord. We know -- for God has told us so, of that Paradise of the redeemed -- that it is a land of perfect light; the day has dawned there; the shadows have forever fled away. It is a land of perfect blessedness; no tears fall there; no sighs rise up there; up to the measure of its capacity each spirit filled with never-ending joy. It is a land of, perfect holiness; nothing that defileth shall enter there, neither whatsoever loveth or maketh a lie. But what gives to that land its light, its joy, its holiness in the sight of the redeemed? It is the presence of Jesus. If there is no night there, it is because the Lamb is the light of that place; if there be no tears there, it is because from every eye His hand has wiped off every tear. The holiness that reigneth there is a holiness caught from seeing Him as He is. And trace the tide of joy that circulates through the hosts of the blessed to its fountain-head, you will find it within that throne on which the Lamb that once was slain is sitting. To be with Jesus, to be like Jesus, to love and serve Him purely, deeply, unfailingly, unfalteringly -- that is the Christian's heaven.
"I love to think of heaven; its cloudless light,
Its tearless joys, its recognitions,
and its fellowships Of love and joy unending;
but when my mind anticipates
The sight of God Incarnate,
wearing on His hands
And feet and side, marks of the wounds
Which He for me on Calvary endured,
All heaven beside is swallowed up in this;
And He who was my hope of heaven below
Becomes the glory of my heaven above."
- (Selected)G. M. O.
Lama Sabachthani?
A meditation by Prof. Herman Hoeksema from the March 15, 1932 issue of The Standard Bearer.
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'And about the, ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani ? that is to say, My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?' - Matt. 27:46.
Amazing moment of divine mystery!
In the darkest hour of the realization of redemption the Son of Man responds to God's demands of justice with a question!...
The Son of God in human flesh cries out in utter amazement, as with the sin of the world He stands face to face with the Judge of heaven and earth. "Lama sabachthani?": why has thou forsaken me?...
It is the dreadful hour of judgment, the hour of God's maintenance of Himself over against man's unrighteousness, the hour of theodicy, when the Most High only shall speak and be justified and every mouth must be stopped and all men must be proven liars; when the Light breaks through upon the ungodly world to cause blackest darkness; when heaven touches the earth and causes hell; when supreme Love reveals itself as most terrible wrath; when the overflowing Fountain of Good fills the cup of utter desolation...
The hour of conflict!
The dreadful moment of the antithesis!
Small wonder that this hour of the Light's darkness, of Love's wrath, of Forgiveness' justice is full of unfathomable mysteries, of apparently irreconcilable contradictions, and that the outcry of the Son of Man, Who now stands in the center of this awful conflict, becomes a question of utter astonishment: My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?...
Is not this outcry itself a contradiction?
Is He that here cries out in painful consciousness of darkest desolation not the very Son of God, Who is in the bosom of the Father? To be sure, He is the divine Son in human flesh, the Infinite in personal union with the finite, the Eternal with the temporal; this is the hour of his deepest humiliation, of His most terrible agony of soul and body, for in His flesh He is nailed to the accursed tree and gives His life for the world of His own, the brethren the Father gave Him. But even so, is He not the eternal Son of God that descended from heaven and still is in heaven, that went out from the Father, yet is still with the Father, the only begotten Son that is in the bosom of the Father eternally? Is He not Immanuel, God incarnated, in Whom the union of God and man can never be broken?...
Still more:
For even apart from the marvelous union of the divine and the human in His Person, is He not the obedient Servant of Jehovah, in Whom the Lord hath all His good pleasure? But a brief period had elapsed since He was with three of His most intimate disciples on the holy mount. There He had been glorified as He was praying. His face had become bright as the sun, His garments had shone with a dazzling splendor. There He had received testimony from the Father: This is my beloved Son, hear Him! From the mount He had descended into the dark vale of suffering and humiliation, always obedient, always manifesting in word and deed that it was His meat to do the Father's will. He had feared but never murmured; He had dreaded the hour but never had He rebelled; He had prayed the Father that the cup might pass from Him but never without perfect submission to Him that sent Him. And He had willingly entered into the deepest darkness of His suffering and death, always ready to obey. Is He then in this supreme moment of His conflict (now He offers Himself up a sacrifice for sin on the altar of most perfect love) not the beloved Servant in Whom Jehovah is well-pleased?...
Whence then the desolation of this obedient Servant?
How can the Father forsake the Son? Can God forsake Himself?
Or how is it possible that Jehovah should forsake and leave in utter desolation His Servant, and that at the very moment of His supreme sacrifice and most perfect obedience?...
For mark how He cries, "lama sabachthani?" "Why hast thou forsaken me?"
Did the Son in this awful moment actually consider Himself forsaken by the Father? Was He then at this hour no more in the Father's bosom? Does the most perfect obedience then involve the consciousness of the most amazing desolation? Does God despise Him in Whom He is well-pleased?...
And why the question?
Lama? Why? For what reason? Because of what? What is the ground for My being so utterly forsaken?...
But does He not know? Is He not the willing Mediator, the Savior of His people, and did He not come into this world of darkness and sin and death exactly with a view to this hour of suffering? Does He now forget the why of this dreadful hour?...
Yet again, how can He cry out through the darkness of His desolation and in the awful consciousness of being utterly forsaken to God, Who left Him? My God, my God!...
It is the hour of redemption!
God is in Christ reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them!
The hour of redemption at its darkest moment must needs be the meeting-time of the most astonishing contradictions -- God forsaken of God! The obedient Servant suffering God's displeasure! He that came to die crying out for the reason of His desolation! Yet, He that is so painfully conscious of utter abandonment still lifting up His voice to His God!
It must needs be so!...
For the hour of redemption is the hour when most abundant mercy executes judgment, when the most unfathomable Love pours out vials of wrath, when the most absolutely Innocent suffers the most dreadful punishment justly...
He that knew no sin is made sin!
Let us be still and worship in this darkness of the cross!
O the depth of riches!
__________
Lama sabachthani?
Reverently, with fear and trembling, let us ask the question: what does this astonishing outcry mean from the lips of the Savior?
What awful suffering, what amazing agony, what astonishment of soul presses this lamentation from His lips?
Terror and anguish have taken hold upon Him! The anguish of one that is terrorized by the presence, the awful presence of Him that sitteth on the throne, of the absolutely Righteous, the Judge of heaven and earth! It is this terrorizing presence that brings upon the suffering Servant the feeling of utter desolation!...
God has forsaken Him!...
To be forsaken of God is not to be interpreted as a mere negative separation from Him, as the mere consciousness that God is not, or that at least He is not near us, that He does not beset us, surround us, for such separation from the living God is an eternal impossibility. Even the suffering of hell is not caused by such separation. The fool may will it, may shut his foolish eyes and say it, that God is not. But God is everywhere, and nowhere can the creature flee from His presence. Though one descend into the depth of hell, even there will he find the living God, and the hand of God will uphold him even in outer darkness. Yea, hell would not be the place of everlasting terror, where the fire is not quenched and the worm dieth not, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth, were it not for the fact that God is there and that His presence is felt and the touch of His oppressing hand is realized there forever!...
And God is present on Golgotha!
His presence is sustaining the cross and its Sufferer!
His presence is in the darkness and the suffering of the Servant!
But it is a presence that also is symbolized in the darkness that is shrouding the accursed tree! For the last three hours the sun had been darkened and the awful spectacle of the suffering Son of Man was enveloped in gloom. It is the darkness of the judgment-hour! God is hiding His face! He withdraws His friendship and fellowship, in which alone there is life and joy; and He concentrates the awful presence of His offended holiness, of His avenging justice, righteousness and truth upon that cross. Withdrawing from the consciousness of His servant all His favor and all the joy of His fellowship, He causes Him to feel -- as He, the Son of God in the flesh, God of God, Immanuel alone could feel it -- the terror and anguish of one that stands face to face with the living God, as Judge of sinful man, the suffering of one upon Whom all the vials of God's holy wrath are poured out! He is forsaken, plunged into the horror of him that is cast away in God's holy and righteous anger.
The cross and its Sufferer are plunged into the darkness of hell!
Yet what in this horrible darkness no mere human being could do, the Servant of Jehovah does, even in this darkest hour, even when the shadow of outer darkness passes over His soul; from the depths He cries unto God, unto His God! For in all the bitter experience of His desolation, He is still the Son of God; according to His divine nature He is even at this moment in the bosom of the Father. Eternally the Father loves the Son, and eternally the Son responds to the love of the Father. It is the love of the Son that even here pierces the darkness, rends the heavy veil of blackest gloom that envelops the cross in the awful outcry: My God, my God!...
He knows, even when all the horror of hell takes hold upon Him and all the vials of God's wrath are poured out over Him, that it is not because of any sin of His own that He must bear this suffering. He is conscious in the midst of his utter amazement that He is the Son, the eternal Son that is in Father's bosom according to His divine nature; the obedient Son, too, in human flesh, whose meat it is to do the Father's will. He knows that even at this moment of desolation the voice He heard on the holy mount, when a taste of coming glory was given Him as a comfort in His darkest hour, may still sound from heaven: This is my beloved Son in Whom I am well pleased, hear Him! He is aware that He is not suffering because of disobedience but because of obedience, that even this terrible agony He willed, He still wills, for the sake of His God, for the sake of the brethren. His most amazing passion is still an act, a sacrifice, a willing deed of loving obedience, a perfect response to God's: Love Me!...
Forsaken! Plunged into utter desolation! But God is still God! And He is His God!
In answer to God's complete abandonment the Son still obeys with an act of most perfect surrender: My God, my God!...
For, as Mediator He suffers!
The place of His brethren He took in the hours of God's judgment. The chastisement of our peace is upon Him. God laid on Him the iniquity of us all, and He assumed it willingly, obediently, even unto the end!
Hence, the apparent conflict: the hour of most perfect obedience is the moment of deepest gloom!
The obedient Servant is the suffering Servant! Though He is painfully conscious of being utterly forsaken, though as Mediator He is cast away from God's presence, yet as Son in the flesh He still cries out to His God!...
My God! Lama sabachthani ?...
__________
Why hast thou forsaken Me?...
Shall the answer come from heaven?
A hush of fearful expectancy has silenced the wild mob of spectators that witnessed the suffering of Jesus of Nazareth!
At first they all mocked and ridiculed and gave vent to their profound contempt and bitter hatred in taunting words of cutting reproach, leaders, elders, soldiers, passers-by, all hell!...
Was He not finally in their power?
Had they not performed all their will upon Him?
But when the sun began to hide her face and the awful darkness descended upon the scene, fear and terror began to strike into their hearts. Here was a factor that was beyond their power. This darkness they had neither caused nor invoked. Was not darkness a symbol of divine wrath, a sign of approaching judgment. For whom then was the sign? Were they mindful at this moment of one of the last words He had spoken: Now is the judgment of this world!?...
The atmosphere had become oppressive on Golgotha. The morale of hell was broken!
And when, toward the close of the fearful period of darkness, the silent Sufferer suddenly breaks the silence by His terrible outcry, they are confused and astonished. In their confusion they know not what they say; neither give themselves account of what they do. Shall Elijah come after all? Shall the terrible Day of Jehovah begin here at Golgotha?...
Lama sabachthani?
The sound of the last syllables slowly dies away, and the question of the Suffering Servant seems to remain without answer. Heaven is silent. God seems to remain hid...
Yet, the Servant appears to have heard the answer. He rises from the depths. Hell seems to pass away now the darkness is being dispelled. His utter amazement is gone. Rest and quiet, the assurance of having obeyed even unto the end, of having given the perfect response to God's Love Me, descend upon His troubled soul. The outcry of desolation is presently followed by the shout of triumph, ringing down to deepest hell, when He has now ascended: It is finished!...
Lama?
Because He is the Servant of God, in Whom is all God's good pleasure! Because it is the eternal mystery of the Father's will, that in Him should be gathered in the fulness of time all things that are in heaven and on the earth, that in Him all the fulness might dwell. Because God has ordained Him to be the Firstborn of many brethren, and has willed to raise Him with His brethren from deepest depth of hell to the highest glory of His eternal tabernacle, that He might forever be known as the Highest Good. Because there was no other, there could be no other, that could bear the iniquities of the people than God's Servant, Immanuel, God of God, so that they might be blotted out forever. Because nothing less than the death of the Son of God could harmonize unchangeable divine justice with abundant eternal mercy. Because the Servant of God must build this house of God's covenant on the basis of eternal righteousness...
Lama sabachthani?
It is finished! The Servant of Jehovah receives the sure testimony from God: the task is perfected!
And presently the response comes again, when He raises Him from the dead:
For our justification!
H. H.
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The Reformed Witness newsletter is published monthly under the auspices of the Evangelism Committee of the Hope Protestant Reformed Church of Redlands. This newsletter is available to anyone who is interested in the Reformed Faith. If you would like your name added to our mailing list, please write to:The Reformed Witness
Hope Protestant Reformed Church
1307 E. Brockton Ave.
Redlands, CA 92374-3802
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