April 3, 2022 | 10:45 a.m.

The Fifth Sunday of Lent

The next word is the Jesus dying word, a word of committal, a word of trust. His dying words are faithful, full of trust in His Father, trusting that in His death His Father will receive Him in loving arms just as the father of the prodigal received his son with open and welcoming arms. Here again is the paradox of faith. Jesus had cried out in abandonment, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” and yet now He cries out in faith, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit!”

READINGS

Psalm 31:1-5
Amos 8:7-10
1 Peter 2:18-25
Luke 23:44-49

message presented by Rev. Frank C. Ruffatto

+Points to ponder

How is the saying, ‘into Your hands I commit My spirit’ a strong statement of faith?
How can we, as a congregation help each other with overcoming our fears and ‘committing our spirit(s) into the hands of the Father?
2 Corinthians 1:20 says, “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so, through Him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God.” How can we magnify our ‘Amen’ at Redeemer to show others that God keeps His promises?

+Sermon Transcript

Grace, mercy, and peace be unto each of you from God our Father and our Lord and King, Jesus the Christ. Amen.

Let us pray: For Your last triumphant cry, for Your faithful trust to the end, for Your final breath of the old creation, for Your entrusting Yourself and us to Your Father, we give You thanks and praise, most holy Jesus. Amen.

The sixth word we hear from the Cross is Jesus’ dying word, a word of committal, a word of trust. His dying words are faithful, full of trust and confidence in His Father, trusting that in His death His Father will receive Him in loving arms just as the father of the prodigal received his son with open and welcoming arms. Here again is the paradox of faith. Jesus had cried out in abandonment, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” and yet now He cries out in faith, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit!”

Isn’t that how it is with the life of faith? God seems so distant at times, especially those times of darkness and woe, those dark nights and days, and yet He stands ever near to embrace us in those strong, loving, fatherly arms. Jesus trusted His Father, and He did it on behalf of all of us. His trust is complete, resolute, and unwavering. Though He dies, yet He trusts. Though He suffers, yet He trusts. Though the Father is silent and hidden, yet He trusts.

But take note of something – this dying word is not sighed or whispered. This is not a weak word of resignation by a man who is overcome by death. No. He shouts this word in a loud voice. He summons His strength and shouts it to the highest heavens. He wants the whole world to hear what He has to say. He is the Son of the Father, begotten and beloved from all eternity. He trusts His Father’s mandate that sent Him on this mission to the cross.

Jesus is not overcome by death. Rather, He overcomes death by dying. As Saint Paul puts it: “O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” On this the Formula of Concord says, “Christ redeemed human nature as His work, sanctifies it, raises it from the dead, and gloriously adorns it as His work. But original sin He has not created, received, redeemed, or sanctified. He will not raise it, adorn it, or save it in the elect. In the ‹blessed› resurrection original sin will be entirely destroyed.

Jesus has taken the sting of death and the venom of the Law into His own flesh, shed His own blood, and now He cries out in victory and triumph as He commits His life to the Father who sent Him. This strong word of the cross also deftly cuts through your doubt and disbelief. Adam’s death is conquered by this Second Adam’s death. Adam hearkened to the doubting word of the devil and became a transgressor, plunging the world into the chaos of sin. But this Second Adam, the new head of redeemed humanity, holds true to His Father and will not waver even as He dies. His life is in the hands of the Father.

Per Nilsen of Burnsville, Minnesota shared this story: He said, “Last week my son, Bjorn, got sick. I took his temperature, and it was 102.5. The Children's Advil came out. He slugged down the appropriate dose for his size. Forty-five minutes later the fever was back down to 100.

Just before bed, I checked his temperature again. It was back up. More Advil. I checked again 45 minutes later; now it was 103. Concerned, I asked Bjorn to drink more water. He obliged, but he was clearly languishing.

My wife, Mary, slept with our youngest son, Kristian. I slept alone in our bedroom and monitored Bjorn through the night. At 12:30 a.m. the thermometer was shaken down and placed under the tongue of my lethargic son. His skin was hot. His affect dulled. 104.

I called the urgent care facility at the local medical center. They said, ‘Bring him in as soon as possible.’

Mary took Bjorn in while I stayed home with Kristian. While she started the van, I got Bjorn ready. I jostled him. He awoke. I told him we were going to the doctor. He looked at me with weary, wondering eyes and said, "Am I going to die, Daddy?"

Immediately, I had three reactions. Common sense: "No, you are not going to die. We need to get this fever down." Emotional: "I'm scared." Visions of children with bizarre diseases flooded my heart. Spiritual: "Dear Jesus, cover him. Heal him. Love him."

I conveyed the commonsense reaction to Bjorn, not wanting to scare him, and I was fairly certain his fever was not life-threatening. But my mind flashed to the many parents in this world who have had to look at their children, knowing that the ultimate answer to that question was ‘Yes.’ I can barely write as I contemplate that circumstance.

And I wonder if in the heavenly places there was once a conversation between the Father and the Son, when the Son asked the question, ‘Am I going to die, Daddy?’ and in his heart the Father knew the answer was ‘Yes.’”

And so, with His final breath, Jesus shows Himself to be the faithful Son. As Saint Paul puts it: “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ. And so, through Him the “Amen” is spoken by us to the glory of God.” And so, where we have failed, He has succeeded. Where we have sinned, He has proven sinless. Where we doubt, He remains strong. Where our spiritual illness threatens to overcome, He has healed and consoled.

Being self-absorbed and self-oriented, the old Adam in us resists this surrender. It fights like crazy against the loving embrace of the Father, like a small child throwing a temper tantrum who will not be held. We want to be in control, we want to be in power. We resent any notion that we sit not in the driver’s seat, but in the passenger’s seat of our lives. Like so many drowning victims, we think we can swim to shore ourselves. We do not need a lifeguard; we even resist the attempts to save us. We want it all on our own terms.

You know how it is in your own life – the bargaining, the denial, the transactions – anything but letting go and leaving it to God our Father to hold us in safety. Jesus does it. On the cross, He entrusts His life, His mission, His death, everything to His Father. “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit.”

The words of this outcry are from Psalm thirty-one. The psalms are the hymnbook of the living and the dying. Jesus takes up the words of David on His lips, for they are His words, too, wrought by the Spirit of Christ in David.

“In you, O LORD, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame; in Your righteousness deliver me! Incline Your ear to me; rescue me speedily! Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me! For You are my rock and my fortress; and for Your name’s sake You lead me and guide me; You take me out of the net they have hidden for me, for You are my refuge. Into Your hand I commit my spirit; You have redeemed me, O LORD, faithful God.”

David, surrounded by his enemies, commits his life into the hand of God. Jesus, the greater Son of David, hanging in the darkness with the burden of humanity’s sin hanging heavy upon Him, commits His life to His Father. In committing Himself into His Father’s hands, He entrusts us as well, gathering all into His death that we might be gathered to Him in our death.

In Luther’s day, people were quite intentional about writing down their last thoughts and confession. What you said at your death was what would be remembered about you. This is Jesus’ last word of His being humbled unto death in obedience to the Law. This is the last word of His work that began with His Baptism where His Father voiced His approval over His beloved Son. Now at the end of His mission, His work completed, the Scriptures fulfilled, the redemption of the world accomplished, He closes His eyes and breathes His last breath with a faithful, trusting word.

Remember these words when it comes time for your last words and make them your “now I lay me down to sleep” prayer. Father, into Your hands I commend my spirit. Say these words each night, as the Small Catechism instructs, in case you should die before you wake. Hold the cross of Jesus before your closing eyes, and rest in peace and joy, knowing that death has been swallowed up in the victory of Jesus’ death. Amen.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.”

ABOUT THE SERIES

This series features words of Christ He spoke from the cross as He offered up His life for the life of the world. Each word imparts a blessing and is a word of Gospel. The sermons and devotions in this series will expound on these words of Christ, linking them to Jesus’ words and works recorded in the Gospel as well as the Old Testament prophesies that pointed to Him. Each word of Christ proclaims and delivers something about Him, the Word Incarnate, and delivers His saving death to us that we would trust Him for forgiveness, life, and salvation.

Join us for Lent at Redeemer.