Jeremy R. Geerdes Posts

The tax collector was clearly humbling himself. Everything about his prayer indicated a sense of brokenness and inadequacy. He knew that he was a sinner. He knew there was no way he could fix his sin. And so he looked to God for forgiveness, and in his mercy, God granted it.

Jesus was right. As he breathed his last, death was defeated. The sting that causes death, sin, was overcome. We are enabled to live life as more than conquerors (Romans 8:37) because, as Jesus said, “It is finished” indeed.

If Jesus could tell the criminal hanging on the cross that he would be with Jesus in paradise today, what is stopping him from saying the same thing you?

If I am honest, I must admit that, in such a situation, I would scream in agony, plead, argue, or perhaps even fight back. If I had Jesus’ power – remember, he healed the sick, raised the dead, and commanded the storm – I expect I would call down fire from heaven. My prayer would be, “Father, cook these people!” Yet, as the clank of the hammer echoed still, Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive.”

Jesus’ hands and feet were pierced with nails. He was hanging on a cross. Every breath sent excruciating, searing pain through his entire body. He was going to die. Yet, he still had the presence of mind to watch for his mom, and as Christians, we must do the same.

Throughout the gospels, Jesus repeatedly said and did things for the benefit of the people around him, suggesting that he was perhaps doing the same thing here, and I would submit there are two things we may glean from Jesus’ final, one-line prayer.

In Matthew 27:46, “Jesus cried out with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lemá sabachtháni?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'” It was quite possibly the most gut-wrenchingly bitter of Jesus’ seven statements from the cross. It was also probably the most profound because, in this haunting question, we find three significant truths.

To the first-century Jews who first heard Jesus tell the Parable of the Good Samaritan, the decision to include a Samaritan at all – let alone, to cast him as the hero of the story – was utterly shocking. Jews in Jesus’ time considered Samaritans to be mongrels, heretics, and interlopers. They were typically portrayed as violent, savage criminals who were just waiting for an opportunity to take what was rightfully Israel’s. No one stopped to wonder if these labels actually applied to an individual Samaritan because they were all considered part of the group. Thus, if a Jew saw a Samaritan, they would cross to the other side of the street, mutter some insult as they passed by, or worse. In fact, if a Jew saw a Samaritan injurred on the road, he was more likely to kick the Samaritan than render aid because, as a whole, Samaritans were loathed by the Jews. For the typical twenty-first century American evangelical, two groups perceived in a similar way are Palestinians and Mexican immigrants. Therefore, if Jesus re-told the Parable of the Good Samaritan today, in order to achieve the same effect, it would be the Parable of the Palestinian or Mexican Immgrant.

In his final moments on the cross, Jesus was thirsty, and in his thirst, we learn two critical lessons. First, he had a legitimate need that had to be satisfied. Are you taking care of yourself so you can take care of those around you? Are your needs important, too? Second, he had reached the point where, once and for all, his human desires were aligned with the Father’s divine will. Do you want what God wants? Are you thirsty?

DART and all of the various government, corporate, and private entities that have a stake in a thriving public transit system (hint: that’s all of us) must come together to find solutions for both the immediate problem and the longer-term concern of sustainability.