SERMON MANUSCRIPT
The final words of someone’s life can be meaningful, powerful, and inspirational. For example, faith-filled Jacob, “As he was dying, blessed each of the sons of Joseph, and worshiped, leaning on the top of his staff” (Heb. 11:21). Do you suppose those were sweet words for his children to hear? Do you think that was sincere worship offered? Sure.
Moses, knowing his time was near, reminded Israel of God’s faithfulness, their fickleness, and the certainty of future redemption. Then he told them, “Take to your heart all the words … of this law. For it is not an idle word for you; indeed it is your life.” (Deut. 32:45–47). And then the Lord took him home.
King David concluded his life by declaring his trust in God’s promises: “For [God] has made an everlasting covenant with me, ordered in all things, and secured” (2 Sam. 23:5). Then he died.
It was with their last breathes that Joshua called for courage, Deborah prayed for justice, Hannah sang with gratitude, and Stephen invited repentance. It was with their final pen strokes that Peter said “guard the church,” Paul said, “preach the word,” and John said, “Come Lord Jesus.”
The final words of someone’s life can be meaningful, powerful, and maybe even transformational. And if that’s true of some of God’s people, how much more is that true of God’s Son? Surely the last words of Jesus are worthy of our consideration.
That’s what I want to do as we approach Easter 2025. I want us to slow down, listen well, and be changed by the seven final words of Christ from the cross, sayings like “You shall be with me in paradise,” “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?,” and “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
Around the cross we’re going to find words, words of sympathy and tranquility, frailty and misery, prophecy and destiny, and certainty and victory. And through this constellation of words we’re each going to see the Lord Jesus, majestically adorned in unmatched courage and love, beauty and power. And we’re going to adore him, be blessed by him, and worship him.
If you have a Bible with you, please turn to Luke 23. This morning we begin our series with words of mercy: “Father, forgive them.”
SIN: It’s worse than we think
This scene is littered with sin. That there was a place called “the Skull” is evidence enough. Golgotha, in Aramaic, or Calvary, in Greek, was the place outside Jerusalem where violent criminals were executed, men like those here flanking Jesus, “one the right and the other on the left.” Crime and death are byproducts of sin and here we find them walking hand-in-hand.
See also the sin of indifference, some playfully “dividing up his garments”—“He won’t be needing these anymore!”—and others simply “standing by, looking on” oblivious to and unbothered by the vortex of evil in which they stood.
To me, that callousness is eclipsed by the malice. The “rulers were sneering at him,” so filled with hate that even torture doesn’t satiate their wicked hearts. “The soldiers also mocked him,” ridiculing a dying man and illustrating the worst case of bullying that’s ever taken place.
And then there’s the crucifixion itself. Of all the ways to die, crucifixion is likely the worst. The condemned would be stripped naked, beaten nearly to death, and made to carry part of the cross on which they would die to the place where they would die. Nails were driven through the wrists and feet and they were lifted high to writhe publicly and warn loudly. Blood loss, coronary collapse, affixation, and shock all collaborated to bring the inevitable and inescapable but extendable demise. Sometimes it would take days for death to come. In many ways, the Romans had become artists of execution, the cross being their wicked masterpiece.
This scene is a showcase of sin—it’s everywhere. And yet, only Jesus sees it. He looks at the mockers, executioners, and bystanders, and he says, “they do not know what they are doing.” They are blind to their sin. They are ignorant to their rebellion.
A famous Chinese proverbs states, “If you want to know what water is don’t ask the fish.” Why? Because water is all they know, having no alternative experience. Well, if you want to know what sin is, don’t ask the sinner. Sin is all they know and they have no alternative experience.
The Bible is explicit: “All have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory.” Every person who has ever lived fails to meet the holy requirement for a relationship with a holy God. “The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?” (Jer. 17:9). “[Even] our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment” in his presence (Isa. 64:6) because “There is none righteous, not even one” (Rom. 3:10). “No clever arrangement of bad eggs will make a good omelet.” No, left to ourselves, we are “dead in trespasses and sins” (Eph. 2:1). We are fallen fish swimming in a sea of sin, ignorant to the full power of its currents and the full depth of its banks. We know nothing else.
You and I may not have swung the hammer, spat on his body, or popped the popcorn but we’re all sinners and, as John Stott wrote: “Before we can begin to see the cross as something done for us, we have to see it as something done by us.” We need to be able to sing, as we often do, “Behold the man upon a cross, / My sin upon His shoulders; / Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice / Call out among the scoffers. / It was my sin that held Him there / Until it was accomplished; / His dying breath has brought me life / I know that it is finished.”
As the scene around the cross was littered with sin, so too is this room today. And only God sees the extent of our rebellion. Only God knows the depth of our guilt. Only God sees the severity of the judgement we’re owed. And, personally speaking, I’m glad for that. I think my heart would explode if I saw the totality of my sin, my sin that sent my Saviour to the cross, my sin I find showcased at “the Skull.”
FORGIVENESS: It’s better than we know
Praise God, there’s forgiveness available, God’s forgiveness. Since it’s ultimately against God we sin and since only he knows the extent of our sin, only God can offer forgiveness for our sin.
And, hallelujah, he does: [23:34a]. Not having sins of his own to confess on his wooden deathbed, Jesus instead seeks forgiveness for those who put him there—the soldiers who beat him, the politicians who tried him, the heathens who hate him, and the nation that rejected him. “Father, forgive them.”
An unspoken addition to that request might be, “and Father, charge their wrongs to my account.” Jesus was, after all, “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), the final scapegoat, “unblemished and spotless” (1 Pet. 1:19), on whom was placed the sins of his people. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross” (1 Pet. 2:24), “having become a curse for us” (Gal. 3:13). As we sang earlier, “He who chose a criminal’s end / paid with blood to settle our debt … behold him!”
Jesus could request the forgiveness of ignorant sinners because their sins were being paid for by him right then! “Father, accept my payment on their behalf! Punish me and pardon them! Revile me and forgive them!” What mercy. What love. What grace.
Jesus was mocked: “He saved others; let him save himself if this is the Christ of God” (23:35). But if the Christ of God had saved himself he could save no others. “The wages of sin is death” but the death of God’s eternal Son has the power to eternally pay the wages for sinful people eternally … if they trust him for it. In the person and work of Jesus Christ on the cross, forgiveness was made available to all but it wasn’t immediately applied to all.
If, when I arrive home today, I find a note attached to my front door that says, “Josiah, yesterday I paid the outstanding principal on your mortgage. Please accept this gift and enjoy its freedom.” I could respond with disbelief, crumpling up the note and continuing to make the taxing monthly payments. Or, I could respond in faith, accepting the incredible and humbling graciousness of a friend, a friend who could afford to pay a debt I couldn’t pay, and thanking them with my joy.
Have you accepted the gift of forgiveness? The principal has been paid on the cross, the outstanding debt is gone. Sin-guilt had nails driven through it and a note offering eternal liberty has been nailed to your door and signed in divine blood. How will you respond?
Perhaps you need to accept the gift now for the first time. You’ve been continuing to make your own moral payments and are only now hearing that they’ve done nothing to bring you to acceptance before a holy God. Friend, today is the day: fall on your knees before God Almighty and accept his forgiveness offered through his Son. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.”
Or, perhaps you have accepted that gift but you still live as a burdened person, wondering if Christ’s blood was a strong enough detergent to clean your particular brand of rebellion. What arrogance that is! You really think you’re a better sinner than he is a Saviour? Brother, sister, hear the words of your Lord and coming King: you are forgiven. Let’s live like it and thank him with our joy and our service and our worship.
We are worse sinners than we know. So bad, in fact, that only an eternal sacrifice could wipe the debt clean. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of his great love with which he loved us” (Eph. 2:4), sent his Son to do just that. And while Jesus Christ hung bleeding and gasping and writhing on that cross, he preached the availability of forgiveness. “A great High Priest, whose name is love / who ever lives and pleads for me.”
The mortar rounds landed in an orphanage run by a missionary group in a small Vietnamese village. The missionaries and one or two children were killed outright, and several more children were wounded, including one girl, about eight years old.
People from the village sent for help to a neighbouring town that had radio contact with the American forces. Finally, a U.S. doctor and nurse arrived in a jeep with their medical kits. They established that the young girl was the most critically injured. Without quick action, she would die from shock and blood loss.
A blood transfusion was imperative so a donor with a matching blood type was required. A quick test showed that neither American had the correct blood type, but several of the uninjured orphans did.
The doctor spoke some Vietnamese and the nurse a smattering of high school French. Using that combination together with a lot of impromptu sign language, they tried to explain to their young, frightened audience that unless they could replace some of the girls lost blood, she would die. Then they asked if anyone would be willing to give blood to help.
The request was met with wide-eyed silence. After several long moments, a small hand slowly, and waveringly went up, dropped back down, and then went up again.
“Oh, thank you,” the nurse said in French. “What’s your name?”
“Hung,” came the mumbled reply.
Hong was quickly laid on a pallet, his arm swabbed with alcohol, and the needle inserted in his vein. Through this ordeal Hung lay stiff and silent. After a moment, he let out a shuttering sob, quickly covering his face with his free hand.
“Is it hurting, Hung?” the doctor asked. Hung shook his head, but after a few moments another sob escaped, and once more he tried to cover up his crying. Again, the doctor asked him if the needle hurt, and again Hung, shook his head. But now the occasional sobs, gave away to a steady, silent, crying, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his fist in his mouth to stifle his sobs.
The medical team was concerned because the needle should not have been hurting him. Something was obviously very wrong. At this point, a Vietnamese nurse arrived. Seeing the little one’s distress, she spoke to him, listened to his reply, and answered him in a soothing voice.
After a moment, the boy stopped crying, open his eyes, and looked questioningly at the Vietnamese nurse. When she nodded, a look of great relief spread over his face. Looking up, the Vietnamese nurse said quietly to the Americans, “He thought he was dying. He misunderstood you. He thought you had asked him to give all his blood, so the little girl could live.”
“But why would he be willing to do that?” asked the navy nurse.
The Vietnamese nurse repeated the question to the little boy, who answered simply, “She’s my friend.”
“Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). And, unlike sweet Hung, Jesus knew exactly what he was doing, for whom he was suffering, and what would come of his death: forgiveness.
Josiah has served the Oakridge Bible Chapel family as one of its elders and one of its pastoral staff members since September 2018, before which he ministered as an associate pastor to a local congregation in the Canadian prairies. Josiah's desire is to be used by God to help equip the church for ministry, both while gathered (edification) and while scattered (evangelization). He is married to Patricia, and together they have five children—Jonah, Henry, Nathaniel, Josephine, and Benjamin.
