The Death of Christ on the Cross: “Once for All”
Psalm 127; Hebrews 9:24-28
There is a piece of art I hope to see in person someday. It is Rembrandt’s etching “Christ Crucified Between Two Thieves: Three Crosses.” Many who are familiar with it call it simply the Three Crosses. Art scholars consider this to be one of Rembrandt’s greatest pieces. I cannot imagine someone looking at it and not being deeply moved. Three men are dying on crosses. It is dark with streams of light filtering down upon the figure of Jesus on the center cross. The darkness is haunting. Soldiers on horseback, those mocking Jesus, and the ones grieving are all pressed upon each other.
The two thieves flank Jesus on either side. They are within talking distance of one another. One is in complete darkness. The other shares some of Christ’s light.
Look closely and you will see the ones grieving, their faces twisted, their bodies in pitiable poses. And then there are the women. The women hold onto each other, weeping. One clings to the foot of the cross, her head resting on Jesus’ feet.
Some who are very familiar with this piece say they can almost hear the voices of the people:
“If you are the Son of God, come down and save yourself!”
“Ha! The King of Israel! Some king you are!”
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
And these, which some scholars think inspired Rembrandt to create this piece: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Today is not Good Friday or a Sunday in Lent. It’s November 7, just a Sunday in Ordinary Time. But the writer of Hebrews takes us to the crucifixion today. It’s an old, old story, isn’t it? One we’ve heard time and time again. Through the years. Through the decades. We know the cast of characters. We know the seven last words. We know the outcome. I sometimes wonder what would have happened to Moses if he had seen the burning bush on Mt. Sinai every week for the rest of his life. Would he have reached a point where he might have said to a companion, “Oh, that? That’s nothing but a burning bush. I’ve seen it countless times.”
Yes, we know the cast of characters. We know the outcome. So, we must be careful not to become overly familiar with this old, old story. Today, just a Sunday in Ordinary Time, let’s open ourselves to take a new, fresh look at this old story. Let’s open our hearts to be moved by it again, drawn deeply into this story of perfect love.
First, we have to take a step back. In order to understand this passage from the book of Hebrews, we must understand how the Jewish Day of Atonement was practiced in the days of the New Testament. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is the holiest day in the Jewish tradition. On that day every year the High Priest offered sacrifices for himself, the other priests, and then all the people of Israel. The word “atonement” means “covering.” The purpose of the sacrifices was to repair the broken relationship between the people and God by covering the sins of the people. Yom Kippur was the only day of the year the High Priest, and only the High Priest, would push back the heavy veil that hung from ceiling to floor guarding the entrance to the innermost sanctum of the Temple, the Holy of Holies. The Ark of the Covenant was kept there, and they believed the presence of the Almighty resided there. The High Priest would take smoldering coals from a fire on the altar into the Holy of Holies, filling the room with smoke and the smell of incense. Then using his fingers, he would sprinkle the blood of a young bull before the Ark of the Covenant.
The High Priest would then lay his hands of the head of a goat and confess the sins of the whole nation. Then he would give the goat to an appointed person who took it to the wilderness and set it free. Symbolically, the “scapegoat” carried away the sins of the people.
This part was important to the writer of Hebrews: this had to be done every year. Yom Kippur was an annual practice.
In our text for today, the writer of Hebrews makes three arguments. First, he says that Jesus entered the “true” sanctuary, not one built by human hands. The High Priest entered only an earthly sanctuary. Jesus entered a heavenly sanctuary. Second, he says that Jesus did not offer blood of animals. He gave his own blood. And third, he says that Jesus did not have to suffer repeatedly year after year. No, Christ’s death on the cross was once for all.
Consider the magnitude of those three words. Once. For. All. The death of Christ upon the cross never has to be repeated. It was an atonement that covers all. Past. Present. And future. Listen to the writer of Hebrews:
As it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the age to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself.
Now, I happen to believe this event really occurred. There was a historical figure from Nazareth named Jesus. He was wise and godly. Many people believed in him. They found hope in his message. But he upset the status quo, angered the officials, was a threat to their religion. So, they killed him. By crucifixion. I can imagine a scene like Rembrandt’s Three Crosses. The soldiers on horseback. Those who mocked Jesus: “Ha! The King of Israel! Some king you are!” And the ones who grieved, especially the women, holding each other, weeping. I believe that really happened, and it matters to my life.
My friend John Killinger is a retired professor and pastor. He once told a story in a sermon that he heard a priest in France tell in a sermon. It was about three young, male intellectuals. They were walking through a village in France discussing the great ideas of the day. The one thing they all despised was religion, especially the Church.
They suddenly came upon a small church. One of the young intellectuals dared one of the others to go into the church and tell the priest all the things they had been discussing. Being young and cocky, he couldn’t resist the dare.
He went into the church and found the priest. He told him all the things they had been discussing, especially the part about despising religion in general and the Church in particular.
When he finished, the priest asked, “My son, why have you told me these things?”
A bit embarrassed, the young man admitted it was a dare. The priest said, “Ah, if you can accept a dare from your friends, you can accept one from me, right?” The priest continued, “I dare you to go into the chapel, stand before the cross of Jesus and say, ‘Jesus Christ died for me, and I don’t care a damn.’”
The young man walked into the chapel and stood before the crucifix. It was darkened from many years of smoke and incense. The figure of Jesus was contorted in the agony of death. The young man spoke, “Jesus Christ died for me, and I don’t care a damn.”
“Again,” the priest said. “Say it again.”
The young man said it again.
“One more time,” the priest said. “Say it one more time, and I will let you leave.”
The young man looked at the crucifix. He saw the agony on the face of Jesus and opened his mouth to speak, but the words would not come. He tried again, but he could not speak.
The young man turned to the priest and said, “Father, I need to confess my sins.”
My friend, John Killinger, says that the priest who told this story then leaned across the pulpit and said to his congregation, “I know this story is true. I was that young man.”
It’s November 7, just a day in Ordinary Time. But the writer of Hebrews takes us to the cross of Christ and reminds us that it was once for all. Let us remember today that it really happened. Even if we all know the cast of characters. Even if we all know the outcome. Let’s refuse to become overly familiar with it. Today let us open ourselves to take a new, fresh look at this old, old story. Let us open our hearts and be drawn once again into this story of perfect love.
Closing Prayer
We are humbled, Lord. Humbled by love so amazing, so divine. Amen.
