Perfect trust

Sermon for Good Friday, year B
Bible reading: Luke 23:46

This time last week I was packing up my bags and getting ready to come home. I’d spent two weeks at Jervis Bay doing my first phase of basic officer training for the Navy Reserve. A large part of the course was learning how to lead a team effectively. So amongst many other things, naval officers are required to take control of a situation, often under a lot of pressure and time constraints, and to make critical decisions that will contribute positively to the overall mission.

There were 20 of us on the course. And we were tested! At times we were wet, tired, hungry, dirty, grumpy and edgy. And it was at just such times that we were thrown yet another problem to work through as a team. I don’t think there was one person out of the class who didn’t experience at least the odd moment when their control on a situation was starting to slip.

Jesus came into this world to lead, no doubt about it. We heard last night how his disciples addressed him as ‘Teacher’, ‘Lord’ and ‘Master’, all leadership titles. In fact, the angel Gabriel had announced to his mother Mary, even before he was born:

Your son Jesus will be great, and will be called Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there will be no end.
—Luke 1:32-33

His mission was plain: to seek out and save sinners, to bring people back to a right relationship with God. But the situation that he encountered when he came into this world was messy and hostile. Human beings don’t easily recognise their need to be brought back to God. Their minds and hearts are hostile to God. And so right from his incarnation, our Lord was hampered by bitter resistance.

It was such opposition that brought him to the point where we find him today: nailed to a cross and dying for the sins of the world, the servant-leader dying for us. Dying on the cross is the situation apparently beyond his control now.

But instead of failure, we know this darkest moment paradoxically as the very fulfilment of his mission. As a victim, he is also a conqueror. Jesus knew this would take place. He had predicted it a number of times. He willingly walked right into the trap that was laid for him.

We think it was Judas who put him there (for a bag of silver); or the Jews (because they were envious of Jesus); or Pilate, (because he was afraid of a riot). But these are only secondary reasons. God the Father initiated this, sending his Son into the world for this one purpose – to die on the cross. And grave as things have become, Jesus still now entrusts himself to his heavenly Father.

Jesus, who led his disciples with strength and courage and power and integrity, unflinching in his determination to fulfil his earthly mission, now relinquishes control of the situation. His dying words from the cross are: Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.

In his life, Jesus perfectly exemplified obedience to God. But here today we see another quality, often unnoticed. Today Jesus shows us perfect trust. He entrusts himself to God the Father, even in this place of utter God-forsakenness.

Now we know how easy it is to trust God when things are going well. But what about when all gives way? What about when we lose control over the situation, when fire or flood or earthquake smash our possessions and in an instant take away our loved ones? Or when illness strikes, or tragedy?

I think about that young clearance diver who was attacked by a shark in Sydney harbour a few weeks ago. One minute he was working as an elite member of our defence force, the Navy equivalent to the SAS. He was evidently in control of his life. But suddenly, without any warning, all of that was taken away from him. He lost an arm and a leg. His life will not be the same again.

Life can throw unexpected challenges at us, not the least of which is death. None of us knows when our last hour will come. The approach of our death will be the ultimate test for each of us. On that day we will have no power or control over our lives. The confidence of our golden years can give way to an overwhelming sense of helplessness and fear.

Jesus Christ shows us how we are to meet that day, and every day for that matter, with a trust in God his Father and our Father. ‘Into your hands’ – this is our constant prayer and undergirding attitude right through life and at the point of death. Many of us were taught in Luther’s Evening Prayer to pray:

Into your hands I give my body and soul and all that is mine …

In other words, ‘God, my life is not really my own. Though I work with all my faculties to excel and succeed and live life fully and honourably, I am leaving the outcome of this situation to you.’

And only the cross can teach us the trust that holds to God’s promises even when there is little if any evidence of his presence in the dark moments of life.

That is what it means to trust God. And only the cross can teach us the trust that holds to God’s promises even when there is little if any evidence of his presence in the dark moments of life.

Do we always trust God like this? Of course not. Even as Christians we often trust our senses instead of the instrument panel of God’s Word. And by nature we want to be master of our selves, to forge and shape the outcome of every situation in a way that suits us. We don’t like accepting help from others until the last minute. And even when we have to, our pride is bruised.

Today as we look upon the broken body of Christ, there is no place for pride. It was our sin that put him there, and our sin will bring us to the same place one day. How fragile and finite we are. It’s easy to despair.

But look at Jesus – Jesus is not despairing. He maintains his trust, even in his dying minute. Our Lord began his final suffering in the garden of Gethsemane praying Not my will, but yours be done, Father. He now meets his end with the same faith, entrusting the pathway and the outcome to his loving and almighty heavenly Father.

His trust was not in vain. For though the Son of God died, God the Father raised him to life again the very following Sunday. Perfect trust brought perfect deliverance. Death was diffused, disarmed, even reversed! We have the wonderful benefit of hindsight to know where this event leads – through thorny ways to a joyful end.

Jesus, who teaches us how to live, also teaches us how to die

And so we who have come to faith in Christ, who put our trust in his redeeming love, can expect nothing less when our time comes. Jesus, who teaches us how to live, also teaches us how to die. Good Friday shows us the manner in which all God’s children should meet death.

Like our master, we should not be afraid to confront the king of terrors. We should regard him as a vanquished enemy, whose sting has been taken away by Christ’s death. We can face the future with calmness and patience, knowing that when our flesh fails, our soul is always in good keeping.

God, who did not let his own dear Son down on that darkest of days, will not let his children down who live under his protection. This is a day of solemn gratitude. We thank our Lord Jesus for all that he suffered in our place. We thank him for his trust and faithfulness even as he breathed his last breath.

Having known the power of his great, self-giving, redeeming love, we can rest our full weight of confidence upon God. We can trust where we cannot understand; we can safely leave the unsolved problems of life in utterly trustworthy hands.

Such trust enables us to live life richly - a willing sacrifice of our time, interest, sympathy, talents and love to God’s purpose. We can also dwell secure in the face of death, praying:

Father, into your hands I commit my spirit. I trust in you O Lord, you are my God – my times are in your hand. I cannot avoid this situation, but instead I flee to you, that you may help me, and turn it into my good. Amen.