Luke 23:44-46
Well, we return today to Luke’s account of the crucifixion. So if you would, find your way to Luke 23 in your Bibles, Luke 23, and we’re going to be looking at three verses for this morning, Luke 23:44-46. And we’re going to see, there, what happened when God came to Calvary.
There have been times in, in my life and in my experience, and maybe you’ve experienced this as well, but there have been times when I’ve observed someone sinning in a way that is so bold and so high-handed and with such arrogance against God and righteousness that I wonder to myself what would that person do if God showed up right now, to hear that word, to listen into that gossip or slander, to observe that act and that disobedience?
Because God has done that, you know. He has shown up at various moments, key moments in history, at times breaking forth at heinous sins as if to remind us all that he’s still there, that he’s still keeping score, and that he will call everyone to account, if not now, then later.
So when God shows up, and we see this throughout Scripture, when God shows up, it is a reminder at the very least to fear him. When arrogant instigators arose in Israel to oppose and denounce their leader, Moses was under the sinful influence of Korah and Dathan and Abiram, men who were driven by envy, men who placated the rest of Israel by accepting their complaints and their grumbling against the leadership, God showed up and buried them. The earth opened its mouth and swallowed those men and their families alive.
When irreverent intercessors Nadab and Abihu, children of Aaron the high priest, when they came before God and offered up strange fire in that new tabernacle, God showed up there, too. Fire came out of the presence of the Lord and consumed them because they did not regard him and his tabernacle as holy.
When insolent idolaters led Israel astray in Baal worship under Ahab and Jezebel, and 450 prophets of Baal worked themselves up into an ecstatic frenzy, dancing around the altar, God showed up there, too. He accepted Elijah’s offerings, rejected theirs; ignored theirs, but accepted Elijah’s offerings. He consumed the sacrifice wood, stones, dust, and water with heavenly fire, and then condoned Elijah’s slaughter of 450 prophets of Baal as a sacrifice unto him.
All these offenses, and there are more in Scripture, but all these offenses against God’s holiness, there have been countless others who have offended his holiness throughout history down to this very time, but God has seemingly passed them over. He has passed them over. His wrath has not broken out against them.
In mercy, the Bible tells us, God withholds his wrath, holds it back. He shows patience as he gathers in the full number of his elect, according to 2 Peter 3:9. And yet there will come a day of final justice, when he will square all accounts. The books will be opened, accounts will be reconciled, and everyone will pay what is due.
But the outbreak, outbreaks of his wrath at these certain points in history, they do serve, among other things, they serve to remind us what God thinks of those who instigate rebellion against his chosen leaders, what God thinks of those who treat his prescribed worship lightly and irreverently, what God thinks of those who are idolatrous and lead others by their influence, by their witness, by their testimony, by their words, by their worship into committing idolatry.
So what of these people in Luke 22 and 23, these people who’ve been opposing and abusing and blaspheming Jesus? This is God’s chosen Messiah, the very Son of God. He is the leader of all leaders, the King of Kings and the Lord of Lords. If anybody is set apart and receives the approbation and the favor and the blessing and the affirmation of God, it’s him.
So why didn’t God strike down these abusers and accusers and executioners? There’s no servant of God more choice, more perfect, more wonderful than Jesus. He has the unqualified approbation of God, “‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I am,’” what, “‘well pleased.’”
He’s been chosen for a special purpose, a holy purpose. In our London Baptist Confession of Faith, in the eighth chapter, it’s titled Of Christ the Mediator, and we read this, “It pleased God in his eternal purpose to choose and ordain the Lord Jesus, his only begotten Son, to be the mediator between God and man, the prophet, priest and king, head and Savior of his church, the heir of all things and judge of the world, and to whom he did from all eternity give a people to be his seed and be by him in time redeemed, called, justified, sanctified, and glorified.” High calling, very special purpose, unique. There’s only one like him.
So why didn’t God strike down all the perpetrators of the crimes and offenses against his son? Because he would have thwarted his own saving purposes. He would have destroyed some of those of the seed whom he promised to his son, those whom Jesus died to save, those for whom he lives as, to serve as prophet, priest, and king still.
Even in his dying hours, Jesus was fulfilling the desires and the duties of his mediatorial offices, even to the very end. We’ve been tracking that as we’ve gone through Luke’s Gospel, but particularly here at the crucifixion. He’s been operating as prophet, priest, and king and in that order.
We see that as God’s prophet to his people, Jesus warned the daughters of Jerusalem back in verses 28-31 of Luke 23, warned them of the impending judgment of God. As God’s priest, he interceded from the cross for his people, praying in verse 34, “‘Father, forgive them.’”
And then as God’s king, Jesus provided for and protected his people, granting, right there from the cross, a royal pardon, commuting the sentence of a guilty, condemned man, paid that man’s penalty, secured that man’s eternal future, and assured him in verse 43, “‘Truly I say to you, today you shall be with me in paradise.’”
What that man did before man and the state is one thing, but “Whoever is hung on a cross,” Deuteronomy 21:23, “is cursed by God.” Jesus received that man’s curse, took it on himself, and died for that man’s sin in his place as a substitute.
So when God came to Calvary on this day, though all deserve to die the deaths of Korah and his horde, and of Nadab and Abihu, and of all those idolatrous prophets of Baal, we see that when God comes to Calvary, instead of damnation, God came announcing salvation, not by ignoring sin and rebellion, but by dealing with it, dealing with the guilt fully and perfectly in his Son at the cross.
That’s where the justice and mercy of God have come together. That’s how his judgment reconciles with his compassion. They all harmonize together. This is where all the divine attributes and all the holy perfections are on display. The demands of the very essence and the character of God, they all come together here, harmonizing perfectly at the cross.
So with those thoughts in mind as sort of an introduction, let’s look at the text for today, starting in verse 44, Luke 23. “And it was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour, because the sun was obscured. And the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two. And Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ And having said this, he breathed his last.”
There it is, the death of Jesus Christ. That time reference there in verse 44 at the beginning, “It was now about the sixth hour,” with that time reference, Luke intentionally interrupts the narrative flow because he’s drawing our attention to something significant, here, a divine visitation.
We know that God showed up two other times in Luke’s Gospel, at the baptism of Jesus and at his transfiguration. And both times, when God came, he said something; there was something audible, something that he spoke. At his baptism, God said, “‘You are my beloved Son; in you I am well pleased.’” Remember at the transfiguration? God said, “‘This is my Son, my chosen one. Listen to him.’”
And here God shows up again, and not only does he not wipe everyone out for their heinous crimes against his beloved, chosen son in whom he’s well pleased, he doesn’t speak, but he does give two supernatural signs. He gives darkness instead of light, and he tears the temple’s veil in two.
So what do these things mean? What do these things mean? I’ve got three points for you for this morning, and here’s the first. First, we want to see, and it’s in this first supernatural sign of darkness, God directs all attention to his son. God directs all attention to his son.
Jesus was nailed to the cross around 9:00 a.m., and for the next three hours the scene was dominated by abuse and scorn. He died six hours later at 3:00 p.m. And so it was halfway through his six hours on the cross that God showed up. God called, as it were, called time-out.
He put a stop to the blasphemy of men and shrouded the entire land, not just the hill, Skull Hill, there, but the entire land with a thick veil of darkness. “It was now about the sixth hour,” it says; “darkness fell over the whole land until the ninth hour because the sun was obscured.”
Modern film makers use darkening skies in all kinds of genres to portend something grim, something ominous, frightening, terrifying. Horror, genre, fantasy, science fiction, apocalyptic thrillers, climate catastrophes, all of them use these darkened skies to create this sense of foreboding and terror. And it comes across on the screen, doesn’t it?
God does that here in real time. It’s no movie, it’s no fiction. It’s real life, and the darkness, here, is portrayed as falling suddenly. It’s the very same expression in all three synoptic Gospels. “The darkness came,” aorist tense.
So when it came upon the land, it’s portrayed, here, as coming suddenly. For three hours, 9:00 a.m. to 12:00 noon, in broad daylight, the best hours of the morning, the scene is full of sinning, isn’t it? Religious leaders are taunting, soldiers mocking, passers-by are scoffing. The whole mountain, there, is filled with the intoxicated sounds of glee and wicked triumph that fills the air as men share in demonic delight of desecrating the Son of God.
But for the next three hours, the lights go out. The scene falls silent. People can’t see their hands in front of their faces. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in any kind of darkness like that. If you’ve ever gone caving and gone underneath a mountain, worm through little holes and get into this big cavern and you have no flashlight, no candle, nothing, it is pitch black. It’s a blackness that you can, in a sense, feel.
So in this sudden blindness of this supernatural darkness, I’m sure it took everybody by surprise. And then the silence is broken by, you would imagine, sounds of panic as people realize they’re still alive, and they think they can see, but they can’t see. And then they’re struck with this frightening realization that something supernatural has happened, that God has showed up, and he isn’t happy.
Some think the darkness happened because of a natural phenomena like a solar eclipse. The, the verb, here, eklipo, is in its participle form, eklipontos. So the noun is eklipsis. May be why some people view this as an eclipse, a solar eclipse.
But an eclipse at Passover is a natural impossibility because the Feast of Passover and unleavened bread is marked by the start of the full moon. So you can’t have a full moon and an eclipse in the same sky, no. And even if you did have an eclipse, no eclipse lasts three hours. I’ve seen eclipses, and it is kind of eerie, isn’t it, when the eclipse comes over and you go outside, and it’s a little bit weird. It feels supernatural. That’s not this.
Others try to explain the phenomenon as occurring naturally, and they say the darkness was maybe due to a natural but a very severe thunderstorm. Yeah, no. I’ve been through those, too. That’s not this.
Maybe an extreme wind, such as one of the sirocco winds coming up out of Africa, out of the Sahara desert, drives a sandstorm into the land and it’s dark. And they, you know, in those, you know, how those ancient pre-moderns are, overstating the fact.
It’s not what the text says. Luke is a very careful historian. In fact, Luke is the only Gospel writer to give us the reason for the darkness. “The sun was obscured.” That’s what he says. Better translation of eklipo, the sun failed, or even the sun’s light ceased. The verb means to fail, to leave off, to cease, to, to give way or give out.
And Luke used that verb eklipo not just to refer, here, to the sun, but also earlier in his Gospel to refer to money that fails or gives out, Luke 16:9. Luke 22:32, Jesus prays for Peter’s faith that his faith may not fail. Same verb. Used of the sun, it could mean eclipse, maybe in certain contexts, but not here, not for three hours.
One commentator rightly points out that if all that was meant by the sun’s being obscured is that it was obscured by a sandstorm or a natural event, the verb skotidzo, to darken, would be used. He’s right about that. It’s to darken the sky.
This is something else. This is supernatural. The sun failed to give light from high noon to three in the afternoon, at the hottest time of the day in spring in Israel. And notice it’s targeted: no sun for this area. That’s God. Light became darkness, and without the sun’s heat, the earth cooled and there had to be a supernatural, terrifying chill that caused everyone there to shiver at the cross and in the whole land.
So now that we have maybe some kind of an idea of what this is, what does this mean? What is God’s message in this? Obviously, there are no words, so it’s being left to interpretation, isn’t it? We have to interpret it.
We could go back to the exodus when God shut off the lights then. Remember that? He shut off the lights and cast the entire land of Egypt into supernatural darkness except for one place, where his people were. It says in Exodus chapter 10, one of the plagues of Egypt, Exodus chapter 10 verse 21, “Then Yahweh said to Moses, ‘Stretch out your hand toward the sky, that there may be darkness over the land of Egypt,’” get this, “‘even a darkness which may be felt.’”
“So Moses stretched out his hand toward the sky. There was thick darkness in all the land of Egypt,” not for three hours, but “for three days. They did not see one another, nor did anyone rise from his place for three days. But all the sons of Israel had light in their places of habitation.”
So could it be that God reversed the judgment, here? So now it’s Israel cast into darkness, not Egypt; not for three days, but for three hours, while the rest of the world has light. It’s possible. It’s an interesting connection, but unlikely that that’s all this means.
Some say, they kind of look up the word darkness in other texts of Scripture. They’re good with a concordance, and they look at other passages where darkness kind of supernaturally like this is used, and they think this is kicking off the eschatological Day of the Lord judgment. And they cite several Old Testament passages: Joel 2:10, Joel 2:31, Amos 5:18, Amos 8:9, Zephaniah 1:15.
I kind of scratch my head whenever I see that kind of superficial interpretation. It really consists of looking up the word darkness in a concordance and then noting those references, and then finding ways to make connections that really are not there and are not justified.
There’s no time to broaden this point now, though I’d like to, but in some cases, the prophetic language in those Old Testament texts is truly figurative. It’s using vivid language for emphasis. In other cases, it’s clear that the language is starkly literal and referring to supernatural events that are associated with the Day of the Lord judgment, which is associated with the second coming of Christ. That’s all true, but that’s not this. This darkness is clearly not a figure of speech. Ask anybody who was there. It’s literal, it’s real.
So then again, why did God shut off the sun in the land? If you would, turn in your Bibles over to, just briefly over to John chapter 12, next book over, John chapter 12, and notice that Jesus has already provided a conceptual framework for the people.
This passage in John 12 is, it actually records John’s record of the triumphal entry. So we know that the timing is just several days before Jesus was on the cross. This is after his triumphal entry. It’s after the second temple cleansing. John 12:27 is where we’ll start, several days before the cross. And having witnessed all that Jesus did as he entered into Jerusalem on a donkey’s colt, as he went into the temple and cleansed it, cleared it, drove everyone out, “Zeal for God’s house consumed our Lord. And some Greeks who were there for the feast, they came seeking an audience with Jesus,” in John 12.
God has used this supernatural darkness to stop the blasphemy and to sober the crowd and to put all eyes on Jesus, his son.” Travis Allen
And that prompted from our Lord a short discourse on his glorification through death. Also, he said something about the value of light, the consequence of rejecting it. Look at John 12, starting in verse 27. Jesus says, “‘Now my soul has become dismayed, and what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”? But for this purpose, I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.’”
Look at this, “A voice came from heaven. ‘I have both glorified it and will glorify it again.’ So the crowd of people who stood by and heard it were saying that it thundered. And others were saying, ‘An angel has spoken to him.’” Look, even with clear words, they’re still open to interpretation, aren’t they?
We have the written record of Scripture that tells us exactly what was said. “But Jesus answered,” verse 30, “and said, ‘This voice has not come for my sake, but for your sake. Now judgment is upon this world. Now the ruler of this world will be cast out, and I, if I am lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men to myself.’ He was saying this to indicate the kind of death by which he was about to die.
“And the crowd answered him, ‘We’ve heard from the law that the Christ is to remain forever. And how do you say that “the Son of Man must be lifted up?”’” Note that they understood that reference to be a reference to death, hanging. Who is this Son of Man? We’re not familiar with him. You’re presenting us with the Son of Man, that’s, we’re unaccustomed to. Do tell.
So Jesus said to them, “‘For a little while longer, the light is among you. Walk while you have the light, so that darkness will not overtake you. He who walks in the darkness does not know where he goes. While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become sons of light.’ These things Jesus spoke, and he went away and hid himself from them.”
He acted it out, like he gave them a visual representation. He performed a little bit of a prophetic drama. Why did he do that? Because clearly, they were not listening to his words. They were not able to receive his teaching. And for all those who don’t listen to words and pay attention to words and listen to teaching, they are remanded to the visual props. Evidently they’re visual learners.
So what would it mean not to have light? Here’s what it means. “I’ll go away and hide myself from you.” No light of truth, no light of teaching, that’s what God did at Calvary. He removed the sun’s light from the land to portray the significance of Jesus life-giving ministry.
“‘This is the judgment,’” John 3:19, “‘the light has come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than the light.’” Why? “‘Because their deeds were evil.’” So since Israel rejected the light God sent to them and his Son, he literally removed the light to portray the consequence of that sin. To reject Jesus is to cut off the light, to turn off the heat, to kill the power and the energy upon which all life depends. In other words, to reject Jesus as Israel did is suicide.
Go back to Luke 23 verse 47 and note the effect of this supernatural darkness on everyone standing there. They’re stopped dead in their tracks, aren’t they? Says in verse 47, “When the centurion saw what had happened, he began praising God,” so his sight has returned, but again, “praising God, saying, ‘Certainly this man was righteous.’ All the crowds who came together for the spectacle, when they observed what had happened, they were returning, beating their chests, and all his acquaintances and the women who accompanied him from Galilee were standing at a distance, watching these things.”
You notice the three uses of the words or verbs for seeing and observing and watching? The light had come back on at this point. They saw that they were in light, then in darkness, and then the light shines again.
They’d all been taking in the spectacle for three hours, some joining the scoffing, some leading the scoffing. Then the darkness falls for three hours, a supernatural darkness like that that fell on Egypt, a darkness which may be felt.
After the three hours and the darkness lifted, all eyes are on Jesus, and as he prays and gives up his spirit, no one is laughing now. No one is scoffing. They’ve all been silenced. The most unlikely of men, a centurion, Roman, pagan, praises Israel’s God. Something’s happened to him.
All the spectacle seekers, no longer are they laughing. Now they go away in bitter mourning. God has used this supernatural darkness to stop the blasphemy and to sober the crowd and to put all eyes on Jesus, his son.
So that’s our first point: He’s directed all attention to his Son. After directing all attention to his son, we come to a second point, that God opens full access by his son. God opens full access by his son. The end of verse 45, Luke adds, “and the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two.” This veil is a big, beautiful, thick veil of Babylonian fabric. It was woven together with blue, scarlet, and purple thread.
And this huge veil was not just torn in a place, it was literally ripped in half, like we might tear a piece of paper. That’s what was done to this thick veil, certainly not by human strength.
We know from Matthew 27:51, Luke has intentionally presented this veil-tearing out of chronological order because Jesus died before the veil was torn, and then immediately after he died, then “the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom,” Matthew 27:51.
Additionally, we know that at the same time that the veil was torn in two, Matthew tells us, “The earth shook and the rocks were split. The tombs were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection, they entered the holy city and appeared to many.”
Now, Luke doesn’t record the earthquake, but that’s a unique seismic event. The earthquake was not a, an indiscriminate smash of a hammer on the entire land, destroying all Jerusalem. Jerusalem still stood. It’s more like an intentional cut of the scalpel and, and many scalpels splitting rocks in half and then opening tombs. This is a targeted strike of an earthquake. Great power.
So the result of Jesus’ death was to open the grave for many righteous Old Testament saints, and then after Jesus’ resurrection, after he conquered death, he’s going to lead a parade of deaths of victims into resurrection life. What does that show? Divine power. It shows abundant life for his people.
But Luke bypasses the earthquake. He keeps our focus instead on the torn temple veil. He wants us to think theologically, biblically, about this. So attached to the sign of darkness, Luke puts the torn veil before Jesus died and not after. And he’s not mistaken. He’s not ignorant of the timing. The facts, here, are well-known to the Christians from the very beginning of the gospel narrative. No, Luke has ordered the events in this way to make a very particular point.
Around the temple complex, there were 13 curtains that were in use, and there are debates among commentators, not over 11 of those 13, but just 2 of the 13, about which veil is meant, whether it was the outer veil that separated the temple proper from the outer court, or whether it’s the inner veil inside the temple itself that separated the Holy Place, where the priest would go daily to minister, and the Most Holy place, where only the high priest could enter, and only once a year, and only with blood.
Which veil is it? All the synoptic writers use the word naos, here, instead of hieros. Hieros in most contexts refers to the entire temple building, but in some contexts it refers to the whole temple complex, the Temple Mount, you might say.
The naos, the term that’s used here and in Matthew and Mark, is the sanctuary. It’s the inner sanctum, you might say, where the Ark of the Covenant was, the, the mercy seat. We read this over in, you might want to jot this down if you don’t want to turn there.
You can turn to Hebrews 9 if you’d like, but Hebrews 9 says this, verse 2, “There was a tabernacle prepared, the first part in which were the lamp stand and the table and the sacred bread, which is called the holy place, and behind the second veil,” so the first veil referring to the one that separated this holy place from the outer court.
“And behind the second veil, there was a tabernacle which is called the Holy of Holies, having a golden altar of incense and the ark of the covenant, covered in all sides with gold, in which was a golden jar holding the manna, and Aaron’s rod which budded, and the tablets of the covenant. And above it were the cherubim of glory overshadowing the mercy seat.”
Now remember the time reference again that Luke gave us. “Darkness fell over the whole land until,” when? “the ninth hour,” right? 3:00 p.m. Three p.m. for the Jews was the hour of afternoon prayer. Where are the priests, there in the holy place, they’re ministering there before the Lord. They’re bringing in the offerings of the people, the incense of their prayers in before the Lord at the very moment of Jesus’ death.
And when he died, an earthquake shook the temple floor beneath them. The veil in front of them tore mysteriously, supernaturally in half. Oh, yeah, they were shaken and not just physically but psychologically, shaken to the core.
Luke uses the divine passive. “The veil was torn,” passive voice, hides the subject; but intentionally, he uses what’s called the divine passive, which alludes to the divine hand behind the action. It’s God who tore the veil.
Matthew and Mark both record that he tore it from top to bottom. What does this mean? The priests are watching this happen. The thing tears. They had to be stricken with fear because anybody who entered into that Holy of Holies who was not the high priest or even the high priest who entered at any other time than that one time of year on the Day of Atonement, dead.
It takes some time for the implications of this event to radiate outward throughout all Jerusalem and all Judea and all Judaism. In fact, Judaism would never really accept the implication of a torn veil.
In fact, God had to destroy the temple completely using his instrument, the Roman army, in 70 AD, tearing it down completely so that one stone didn’t stand on the other before the Jews stopped idolizing the temple.
This beautiful inner veil separated the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place. It was a physical barrier erected between God and man, a barrier that separated the inside world of divine holiness and perfection, sinlessness, from the outside world of human sin.
Again, Hebrews 9 says this in verse 6, “And when these things have been so prepared, the priests are continually entering the first part of the tabernacle, performing the divine worship, but to the second only the high priest enters once a year, and not without taking blood, which he offers for himself and for the sins of the people committed in ignorance.”
When that high priest entered the Most Holy Place once a year, on the Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur, he came first with the blood of a bull offered up for his own sins, and he sprinkled that blood on the top of the Ark of the Covenant, a place called the mercy seat, between the cherubim.
And the high priest went back out to get the blood of the goat. The goat was sacrificed for the sins of the people. One goat, sacrificed, killed for their propitiation. Another goat, confessed over and then released and sent out for their expiation. Propitiation, satisfying the wrath of God for their sins; expiation, removing their sins from God’s presence, figuratively sending that goat out into the wilderness.
So when the high priests got the goat, blood, took it in for the sins of people, he brought that blood also back in to sprinkle it on top of the ark in the place called the mercy seat. You know the word for mercy seat here in Hebrews? Helasterion. Helasterion, which is related to the word helasmas, which means propitiation. Literally, the mercy seat is called the propitiation. You could say the satisfaction place, the atoning place, the forgiveness place.
Satisfaction of an angry deity over sin, that is the word propitiation, to propitiate wrath; expiation, to send away that which offends, namely our sins. That’s why it’s called the mercy seat, it’s where God chose mercy. This place of mercy, of atonement, forgiveness, our sins separating us, keeping mankind from God, represented by this huge, thick veil.
And only one man, the high priest, can enter only once a year, and if any other man entered, he’d be struck dead. The high priest himself, if he entered in any other time, he’d be struck dead, too.
And now, this veil torn in two? Who committed the sacrilege? Who had the audacity to breach the unbreachable gulf between God and man? Again, the writer to the Hebrews tells us Hebrews 9, verse 11, “Christ appeared, he appeared as a high priest of the good things to come, and he entered through the greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this creation, not through the blood of goats and calves, but through his own blood. He entered the holy places once for all, having obtained eternal redemption.”
Isn’t that amazing? Even this Holy Place, this Most Holy Place and all the accoutrements of worship inside, they’re just types of the heavenly reality. And Jesus didn’t have to go rip the veil himself and enter in and touch the mercy seat. No, he entered into the heavens and with his own blood and touched the mercy seat there.
So who’s responsible? Who ripped the veil? God has done this in Christ. So when that veil of separation, torn in two parts, breaching the unbreachable gap, what implications then does this have for the high priest, all the priesthood, the temple itself?
Massive implications. This is like, not just a rock thrown into a pond and a ripple effect. This is an entire mountain range cast into the ocean, driving the ocean, waves and tides, affecting every land, every place on earth.
If that veil has been torn by a divine hand, it signals the end of the Aaronic priesthood as providing access to God. This signals a new era, a new priesthood giving full access to God through Christ. Jesus, who has a better priesthood, ss Hebrews 5 to 7 teaches, he is the priesthood of Melchizedek, an eternal priesthood.
It’s going to take some time before the full meaning and implications of this is going to radiate outward and settle on the minds and hearts of God’s people. I mean, even for the Apostles, they had to pull back and reflect on this. The Spirit had to teach them and prophesy to them and help them to understand the meaning of all this. But we have it written in the New Testament so that we can interpret it all and understand it without any contradiction, without any confusion.
In fact, the letter to the Hebrews itself is a long meditation on the implications of Jesus Christ and the superiority of his ministry in every single way. He’s abrogated the old system of Jewish sacrifice, the way of atonement.
But the immediate message here for us in Luke 23, the way of God is open, full access to God through Christ. The writer to the Hebrews in Hebrews 10:19 says this, that “we have confidence to enter the Holy Place.” Why would we have confidence? Because of the blood of Jesus, because of his death. His death opened up, Hebrews 10:20, “a new and living way which he inaugurated for us through the veil, that is, through his flesh.”
So the writer to the Hebrews sees the tearing of the veil in the temple as directly related to the tearing of Jesus’ flesh on the cross. Tearing a veil, tearing the flesh of Christ, same thing. When he died, the veil was torn in two from top to bottom, opening full access to God.
You could say that that veil was the mediator between God and man no more. Now, it’s Christ himself, Jesus himself. He’s been torn. He’s opened up the new and living way. Or you could say in Jesus’ language, if you want to go back to Luke 23, you can see it. His language, there on the cross in verse 43, is that he opened the gates of paradise by his torn flesh. So no more atoning work takes place at the temple from that point forward.
He’s opened to us a new and living way, reconciling us to God. Travis Allen
Frederick Godet, the commentator, pointed out, he said, “The temple is profaned and consequently abolished by God himself, and the efficacy of the sacrifice has henceforth passed to another blood, another altar, another priesthood. This is what Jesus announced to the Jews in this form, “Put me to death, and by the very deed ye shall destroy the temple.”
The implications of the torn veil were later reinforced at the martyrdom of Stephen just before he died in the temple, there again before the Sanhedrin, his sermon, amazing sermon in Acts chapter 7, was a historical representation of all the prophetic indictments against the Jews and all their hard-heartedness and stubbornness to persecute and kill God’s servants.
And so here again in Acts 7, at the very end, he, he brings it to a culmination in a climax when he indicts his own generation for doing the very same thing, because they crucified Christ. They’re hard-hearted and stubborn, and they really resented Stephen for pointing it out, and it enraged them. So they began gnashing their teeth at him and prepared to stone him. “But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit,” Acts says, “gazed intently into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God; and he said, ‘Behold, I see the heavens opened up and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God.’”
That is a sight that remains today, though we don’t see it in a vision now as Stephen did, that reality is true today as it was when Stephen stood there and saw it. The heavens are opened to all believers, and we can be received. He’s opened up the way, having directed all attention to his Son by supernatural darkness, turning off the lights and then turning them back on so that all eyes are on Christ. God opened full access by his Son, as represented by the tearing of the veil.
And then thirdly, third point, God offers full acceptance in his son. God offers full acceptance in his son. And this is what we see in verse 46. “Jesus, crying out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ And having said this, he breathed his last.”
First, Jesus fills what appeared to be very strong, capable lungs with air, and he cries out with a loud voice so that his final prayer is heard. And at the end, Jesus, he’s the subject of that verb, it portrays him in full control of his final breath. He, Jesus, being the subject of that verb, “he breathed his last.” He chose his time of death.
It’s amazing, here at the end, he died earlier than really any of the other victims died, not because he was weak, but because he was in sovereign control. He was strong, in perfect control as this verse shows. It starts in strength and it ends in composure. It ends in perfect peace. Why? Because it’s finished. His atoning work is about to be complete. All that remains is for him to expire, give up his spirit, pay the price.
Jesus said in John 10:17-18, “‘I am laying down my life so that I may take it up again. No one takes it away from me, but I lay it down on my own initiative. And I have authority to lay it down and I have authority to take it up again. This commandment I’ve received from my Father.’” His death was his own initiative. He was no victim.
And just before laying down his life, his final word is this prayer, prayed at 3:00 p.m., which, as we already pointed out, is the hour of prayer. After he prayed, Jesus gave up his spirit and died. Then the veil of the temple, torn in two from top to bottom.
The prayer comes from Psalm 31 in verse 5, we read that earlier in the service. David says, “Into your hand,” Psalm 31:5, “into your hand I commit my spirit. You have ransomed me, O Yahweh, God of truth.” Again, we read that whole psalm earlier in the service.
In Psalm 31, it’s not thoroughly messianic from start to finish, but it does have messianic elements in it, doesn’t it? If you go read it again this afternoon after this, you’ll see how much is woven into there that comes out in the crucifixion.
But the psalm conveys this vital concept of divine protection and care, which David longed for as he was driven out of Jerusalem by his wicked son Absalom, and by the coup that that he led. David is longing to be with the Lord, to be protected, to be cared for, to be received.
This is why Jesus cites that psalm in this prayer. In fact, he saw, he cited the first line of Psalm 22 as well, as the other Gospel authors show, “‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’” Not because he turned his back on God, as the atheists like to say. Not at all. He was literally feeling the turning away of his Father when he should have expected his protection and his love and his care. He felt it personally, deeply in his soul.
But he also cited Psalm 22:1 in order that the people around the cross and all of us since that time would go back and read Psalm 22 and see how it really is a commentary on the cross. Psalm 31, also, he cites this line of the psalm in this prayer so that we’ll go back and see the elements that are there.
We know that when he cites Psalm 31:5, he makes a few alterations. When he prays the verse, applying it to himself, first, notably absent is the line, “You have ransomed me.” He doesn’t include that when he prays it.
He’s not asking God to ransom him. He is the sinless one, the perfect one in righteousness. He is holy as God is holy. He has no need of ransom. There’s no sense in which God ransomed him. Instead, as he says in Matthew 20:28, he gave himself as a ransom for many.
Second change to Psalm 31:5 in his prayer is how he addressed God. He doesn’t address him as “Yahweh, God of truth,” though that is a powerful way to address God, perfectly appropriate, addressing him by his name, Yahweh, and according to his unshakeable veracity as God of truth.
Instead, Jesus speaks to Yahweh God on much more familiar and intimate terms, doesn’t he? He addresses him as Father. This form of address, being the last of the seven sayings on the cross, it joins the first of Jesus’ sayings on the cross. The first is verse 34: “‘Father, forgive them.’” The last one, here, is “‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’” In the first and the last, almost like bookends on either side of all that he said on the cross, is the word father.
The final word that he prays on the cross is not addressed to men. It’s not like other martyrs die, making their address to men, making their appeal to men. He’s not giving an apologetic of his life and ministry. He’s not making a defense. The final word, here, is an expression of trust, vertically to his father, affectionate expectation of a son eager for his reunion with his father.
There’s another psalm David wrote. I love this short little psalm, Psalm 131. David says, “Surely, I’ve composed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me.” That is the comportment of the soul of Jesus even here, as he is in pain, as he is in suffering, as his life is flowing out of him, as the father is about to pour all his wrath on him. His soul is comported before God and at perfect peace.
This is also the most basic and fundamental disposition of every single believer. God as our father means we are his children. We’re safe and at rest in God’s powerful arms. We’re protected by God’s mighty hands.
Brings us to the final line, the key line that Jesus prayed. He wanted everyone to hear, “‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’” Notice the anthropomorphism, there. Does God the father, who is spirit, have literal hands? No, but what do hands portray? They’re the business end of all of our strength, aren’t they? And for a father using his hands to protect his son, that means problems for the bad guys, but it means comfort and protection for our children.
Interesting use of the metaphor or figurative language of the father’s hands and then his own spirit, portraying a material thing as taking into his hands an immaterial thing. “Into your hands I commit my spirit,” his very soul, his very, what makes him, him: a divine nature and a human nature joined together in one person, a mystery of the incarnation behind, beyond all mysteries. He commits that into the hand of his infinitely powerful father.
Though the devil and all his foul hordes, and though the worldly, sinful men who are at the devil’s command, doing the devil’s bidding, though everyone here rails against him, and decry him, and denounce him, and attempts to desecrate him, or even his friends who stand at a distance and they don’t get involved out of fear and Jesus is here perfectly composed, he’s at ease and at rest, resting in the powerful hands of his father.
John Calvin rewords the prayer of Jesus, here, and kind of expands, elaborates a little bit to give the sense. He says, Calvin says, “It’s as if Jesus had said this: ‘I see indeed, O Father, that by the universal voice I’m destined to destruction, and that my soul is, so to speak, hurried to and fro. But though according to the flesh, I perceive no assistance in thee, yet this will not hinder me from committing my spirit into thy hands, calmly relying on the hidden safeguard of thy goodness.’”
That’s the true expression of every believer, isn’t it? Though we can be battered by the storms, though we’re tested through trials and temptations, though we’re maligned and persecuted by the unbelieving, and yet it is in our heart of hearts that we all trust God like this as our father. We come to him in faith, confident that he receives us.
I was talking to a good friend yesterday, who’s about to go under the knife on Tuesday, brain surgery. He doesn’t even know if he’ll come out of it. There’s good hope that he will. He’s had to prepare his wife and children for the possibility he might not emerge from surgery. You know what he expressed in this conversation with me as we talked together and prayed together? This right here: trust. He was calm. He was at peace.
This is the comportment of the believer. When we really get a grip and really understand and realize and absorb it into our souls, we have nothing to fear. If God is our father, if we fear him, we fear nothing else.
How is it that we come to trust God like this, especially when the rest of the world does not and will not, and scoffs at us for doing so? Because God has intervened. He has supernaturally darkened the rest of the world to us, and he’s focused all of our attention on Jesus Christ.
He’s pointed us to the full access provided by the death of his beloved son, who is our propitiation, who sprinkled his own blood on the mercy seat, not in the physical temple, but in the heavenly one, so that we’re forgiven. And he’s opened to us a new and living way, reconciling us to God.
And so now, because his death is our death, his life is now our life, too, and by the Spirit that he made to dwell in us, his peace is our peace because we learn to trust God as our father, just as Jesus fully trusted in God as his father.
And so “we’re accepted in the beloved,” Ephesians 1:6. We’re bid to come confidently, “boldly before the throne of grace to find help in our time of need.” And we are welcomed there at the throne of a king, eagerly, affectionately brought in not only to the throne room, not only to the throne, but up onto the lap of the king who sits there.
Yes, the Almighty, his name is Yahweh, but as it is with our earthly fathers, we don’t address him by his first name or by his titles of sovereignty. We know God on more affectionate, familiar terms. He is now a dear, familial relation, he’s our father.
Calvin goes on to say in that same passage, he says, “Let us now remember, it was not in reference to himself alone that Christ committed his soul to the Father, but that he included, as it were, in one bundle, all the souls of those who will believe in him, that they may be preserved along with his own. And not only so, but by this prayer he obtained authority to save all souls, so that not only does the heavenly Father for his sake deign to take them into his custody, but giving up the authority into his hands, he commits them to him to be protected.”
Oh, beloved, let that protection of the father and that relationship to him through, through Jesus his son, let that comfort you. There’s so much to discourage us, so much to tempt us, try us. We need this, don’t we?
By this prayer, Jesus praying this, remember, right next to the guy he just gave a pardon to, he’s instilled confidence in that man right next to him, that’s what he wants to do for you and me too. Penitent sinner, to whom he said, “‘Today you shall be with me in paradise.’” With me, means in the hands of his father. So if the spirit of Jesus passed into the loving care of his father’s hands, and so, too, that man along with him and us as well, we’re received with Jesus into eternal paradise.
When God came to Calvary on this day, when he showed up, there are many who write about this and see in the darkened skies, in the torn veil, judgment, judgment, judgment. Certainly, there is judgment here, but the first message is to us believers, that in the judgment that came upon Christ, we’re spared. He absorbed the wrath of God for all who will believe.
And so I just ask, if you’re here and you don’t know him, will you trust him today? Don’t waste another moment. If you’re here and you are in Christ, are you finding this to be a comfort? Do you know him as an abiding reality every single day of your life? Because if you don’t, there’s a repentance for you. There’s the gift of repentance from God that you can live in the full trust and the loving care of God as your father. Let’s pray.
We’re so grateful to you, our God, because you have given us Jesus, your only son, to be our Savior and our friend. And when he ascended that cross, took upon himself our sins in his own body, he died that he might bring us to you. And what can we say but Thank you? What can we do but offer our lives every single day as a living sacrifice?
We pray, Father, that you would be gracious by your Spirit to those who may be here who don’t know you, that you would be pleased, if it be your will, to grant them life in your son, to show them what full access to you really means, that they would be able to comport their own souls in rest and peace, just like Jesus did.
And for those of us who are here, who do know you, but we don’t, we don’t walk in the daily reality of the new, reconciled relationship that we have by your redemption, I do pray that you would help all of us to repent and all of us to walk rightly before you and to enjoy the, the continual abiding presence of your Spirit and your comfort and your consolation, that walk in, we would walk in joy and gratitude and full obedience. Let us do so even more from this day forward, for the sake of the name of Christ and for your praise, father. Amen.