The Death of Jesus
Into Your Hands I Commit My Spirit
“It was now about noon, darkness came over the whole land
until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining.
And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.
Jesus called out with a loud voice,
’ Father, into your hands
I commit my spirit.’
When he had said this, he breathed his last.”
Luke 23:44–46
At the very hour when the sun should have stood at its highest, the sky darkened. All creation seemed to mourn the crucifixion of its Creator. In the midst of that eerie darkness, Jesus cried out—not in despair, but in confident surrender: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
William Barclay writes, “Even on a cross Jesus died like a child falling asleep in his father’s arms.” In His final breath, Jesus did not curse His enemies or lament His fate—He entrusted Himself wholly to the Father, showing us how to die and how to live.
At that moment, “the curtain of the temple was torn in two.” This was no minor detail. The veil symbolized the separation between God and humanity. Its tearing from top to bottom revealed that God Himself had removed the barrier. Access to the Holy of Holies—the very presence of God—was now open.
Alexander Maclaren reflects, “The rending of the veil meant that the way into the holiest of all was now laid open. The sin that barred it was borne away.” The cross became not a dead end, but a doorway.
Even the Roman centurion, hardened and likely desensitized to death, was moved to worship: “Surely this was a righteous man” (v.47). Grace broke through the most unlikely heart.
Matthew Henry notes, “Christ died with a prayer in his mouth. He showed us how to resign our souls into the hands of God as a Father.” His death was both a sacrifice and a testimony of unwavering trust.
Prayer:
Lord Jesus, in the darkness of the cross, You gave Yourself completely into the Father’s hands. Thank You for opening the way to God, for tearing down the veil of separation, and for showing us perfect surrender. Help us to live and die with that same trust. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment