When I Left Our Savior to Die

          “When I Left Our Savior to Die” was given on Good Friday, March 25, 2016 at Lawrence Road Presbyterian Church. Inspirations for this short reflection included Scripture, beginnings & endings, creative storytelling, and one of Jesus’ last words upon the cross: “It is finished.”

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John 19:30

³⁰ When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

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I was there. Long, long ago I found myself in the characters of the past. I was there. I was there with Jesus when he walked the roads, and I was there with Jesus when taught his teachings. I was a follower of his ways and a witness to his miracles. I was there with Jesus. But at one point – and I’m not sure when – I left our Savior to die.

Maybe it was when I saw him enter into Jerusalem. You should have seen it. He was a king! I have never seen such glory and honor represented in the flesh as I did that day. All I wanted was to be in his presence; all I wanted was for his face to look upon mine. I spread my cloak on the road. Together with all his followers, we made a path of fabric and richness. Our king deserved nothing less! Our voices joined together as one triumphant cry, “Hosanna! Hosanna! Lord, save us!” But then our king passed by and our voices faltered and failed. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

 Perhaps it was when I was with him in the garden. I heard his cries to his Father, but I chose to ignore his voice. Instead, I fell asleep while my teacher prayed. I couldn’t stay awake. I was carrying this weight of guilt, and I was tired, oh so tired. I knew my teacher carried a weight much greater than mine, but I just wasn’t as strong. I couldn’t be as strong… You see, I had wronged my teacher. I doubted him with Thomas, I betrayed him with Judas, and I denied him with Peter. I am sorry, my teacher, I just couldn’t stay awake. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

It could have been the time when I brought him to the Roman officials. I saw him brought before the high priest and the governor, and I saw him through the eyes of Caiaphas and through the eyes of Pilate. I have never been more afraid; I have never been filled with such wrath. That day my fear and frenzy took control. I wanted Jesus to suffer; I wanted Jesus to die! My voice might have been the loudest as we cried, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” I cheered when they took him away. I rejoiced when they nailed him to the cross. I gave thanks when they lifted him high into the air. My God, my God; I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I will regret those moments for the rest of my life. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

It must have been when Jesus was on the cross. His sign read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” I believed those words, but I still sentenced him to die. Tears fell down my face as I cried with the men, women, and children – the cries of “Hosanna!” and “Crucify him!” still echoing in my head. The man I loved was dying. My heart was filled with both compassion and pain. A void was being ripped open. I saw Jesus starve upon that cross; I could see his thirst. I gave him one last drink of wine. His last taste of this earth would be the sour, rotten fruit of the vine as it trickled down his throat. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

But then Jesus said one last thing upon that cross. Was it a whisper or was it a shout? I could hear his voice around me; I could hear his voice within me. It was the concluding cry of victory. I was there with Jesus when said his final words, “It is finished.” In that moment, I knew it to be true. I knew Jesus was my Savior. When I left our Savior to die, he would come back to me with new and eternal life.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

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