Today as we come to this remembrance of Jesus’ sacrifice on Good Friday, two passages of Scripture are coming in bold relief for me.
This morning, I read the crucifixion account in Luke and Jesus’ final words from the cross- “Father into your hands, I commit my Spirit.” Even at the end, having endured all that He endured, Jesus trusts and clings to the goodness of the father. The one who can vulnerably pray the words of Psalm 22, “My God…why have you forsaken?”Can still entrust his life into the arms of the Father.
Contrast that with my second reading from today- the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. For me the character that always stands out in this passage is the older brother. Full of resentment, fear, and obligation he serves with the expectation that through his performance he will earn the approval of the father. I think this older brother stands out for me because I’m so much like him. In my moments of fear, doubt, and insecurity, my temptation is to work harder to somehow be more worthy of God’s love.
As I read these two stories, I was confronted with this question. “What would the older brother do at the foot of the cross?”
I imagine the older brother hearing the cry of Jesus, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.” Could he do the same? One of the most haunting thoughts for me about this older brother comes from Henri Nouwen who said that the greatest tragedy of the older brother was that he was “always in the father’s house but never home.” His acts of servitude, were a futile attempt to hold the father in his debt just in case the father wouldn’t follow through on His goodness. I think the cross would disarm him. It disarms me. Through the agony of the cross, Jesus can lay down his life and still say, “I can commit my life to Him.”
At the foot of the cross, there is no need for performance, no steely attempt to muscle up piety, but brokenness that dares to bank it all on the goodness of the Father. Even when it doesn’t make sense.
Today, may this remembrance of Christ’s unimaginable sacrifice break through my older brother defenses. May his example and grace help me cling to the hope that the Father really is bigger. This Good Friday may I discover all the more the mystery of the one who says, “Ït is Finished.”