The Hands of Jesus by Carol Harrison

We planned to have an Easter program during our Family Night at church and invite many guests to attend, but the virus cancelled our event. Long before we knew of the spread of COVID-19 and all the restrictions our lives would now include, I wrote some monologues about people who experienced the touch of Jesus during his earthly ministry. Our plans changed but the message remains unchanged. Jesus ministry, death, and resurrection offer His touch throughout history including during this time of isolation, sheltering-at-home, and social distancing.

During Jesus' ministry on earth he interacted with individuals and crowds. He taught and did miracles. There are instances recorded in the Bible of how his handsphysically touched people.

 In Matthew 8:1-4 Jesus touched a man with leprosy, the untouchable, the outcast, and healed him. Once he received the healing touch from the hands of Jesus, he could rejoin his community, his family, his church without the social distancing, and give up the isolation he had needed to endure.

In John 9 Jesus healed a man who had been blind from birth. No one paid a lot of attention to him while he was blind and begging at the side of the road. He had no social status, no job, nothing to call his own, and remained at the fringes of society. Yet Jesus chose to spit on the ground and make mud that he placed on the blind man's eyes. The blind man received the attention of the rulers and the crowds after he washed at the pool of Siloam and received sight. But Jesus noticed and touched him while he still remained isolated. The man did not know who Jesus was but he confirmed to others in John 9:25 "One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!"

Jesus had compassion on the crowds and loved the children. In John 6:1-4 we read about the little boy who gave his lunch to Jesus. I can imagine him thinking something like this, I'm just a kid, a hungry boy with a lunch of five loaves and two little fish. I'm here listening to this Jesus along with thousands of others but no one pays attention to a kid. Everyone is hungry just like me. No one else seems to have any food with them so I gave my lunch to Jesus. He took it in his hands and prayed. There was enough food for all of us with leftovers too. I'm just a kid but He took my lunch in His hands and fed everyone. 

In Mark 5:21-24 it was one of the synagogue rulers, Jairus, that sought out Jesus. He pleaded with Jesus to come and heal his twelve-year old daughter who was on the verge of death. By the time Jesus arrived at his home, the girl had died. Yet Jairus witnessed the hands of Jesus touch her and raise her from death.


Peter, one of the disciples, followed Jesus during those years of ministry. He listened to His teachings, saw the miracles, and spent time with the Son of God. In Matthew 14 Jesus, during the middle of the night,  walks on the water toward the boat with the disciples had taken to cross the lake. Fear gripped this band of followers. Impetuous Peter figures if this is really Jesus, he could just go to Jesus if asked to do so. I imagine Peter recounting that night. Jesus told me to come, so I did. I climbed out of that boat and started walking on the water to Jesus. Then I took my eyes off him. Boy those waves were big and the wind whipped them around me. I was afraid and I started to sink but Jesus reached out His hands and pulled me up. His hands rescued me. 

The hands of Jesus did so much more. They bore the nails Roman soldiers drove into them as they hung him on the cross. They bled for us - for our sins, our wrong words, actions, and thoughts. He willingly offered himself as the sinless Lamb of God because of God's great love for us. Yet the cross was not

the end but the way for Him to offer the ultimate, once-for-all sacrifice.The grave could not hold him. Hallelujah He arose. Jesus is alive.

Jesus Christ, the sinless Son of God, came to earth to pay the penalty for all of us. Romans 5:8 "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this; While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 6: 23 reminds us that His death and resurrection are God's gift to us. "For the wages of sin in death but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Jesus had compassion on the crowds, on the individuals, and called all to come to Him to find rest, to find healing, and to find forgiveness during His time of ministry. Today Jesus still calls us to come to Him, to follow Him, to take His hand, and allow Him to touch us right where we are. He longs to forgive, to heal, to guide and direct, to comfort us in times of trouble and isolation, and to give us victory in our everyday lives.



Matthew 11:28-30 says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

 His hands touched the outcast, the children, those on the fringes of society, the synagogue rulers and their families, the loyal followers, and He had compassion on the crowds. The hands of Jesus bled for us when he took our place and became our sacrifice. He waits for us to come. As we remember the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus what do we need victory over, forgiveness in, and healing of our minds and bodies? Coming to Jesus and celebrating the meaning of Easter is never restricted by viruses.

Carol Harrison loves to share stories, from her home in Saskatoon, of everyday life and of the fingerprints of God in our everyday lives.

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The Call of the Cross by Carol Harrison

The Call of the Cross

 I struggled to figure out what to write about for this blog post as I looked ahead to Easter. Then my mind was drawn back a few decades to a play written by a lady in our church for a group of us- junior high girls- not only to learn the lines and perform it, but to reflect on the meaning of the cross.

I remember taking part in a few performances, playing the part of the evangelist calling people with the words of Jesus from Matthew 11:28-30  "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." 

The importance of the cross, its meaning, and our need to choose what we would do with the gift of God offered to us through Jesus was intertwined with Jesus' invitation to come to him throughout the play. Each person who answered the call of the evangelist needed to decide what to do with the words of Luke 9:23-26 "Then he (Jesus) said to them all: "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit his very self? If anyone is ashamed of me and my words, the son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his glory and in the glory of the Father and of the holy angels."

Those not acting in the play sang old hymns  between the people who came seeking to take up their cross and follow Jesus. The music and words of hymns such as The Old Rugged Cross by George Bennard b 1873, Beneath the Cross of Jesus by Elizabeth C Clephane 1863 & Frederick C. Maker 1881, or When I Survey the Wondrous Cross by Isaac Watts 1707 and Edward Miller 1790 helped drive the message of the cross deep into my heart.

One person in the play chose a pretty  piece of cross jewelry to wear instead of a heavy, ugly wooden cross. She wanted to follow Jesus but didn't want the hardships. She wanted the cross to be beautiful, ornamental, and able to be taken off when she chose to do so.

Another one came to answer the call but feared what people might think of their decision. She chose a small cross that fit in her pocket. She could reach in and touch it, remember Jesus, but not have to lug around something for all the world to see. She was ashamed to admit she followed Christ and went away saddened by having to choose the full meaning of the cross.

Yet one more person, in this play, showed up to answer the call of Jesus to come and follow Him. They chose a smaller cross to carry because they didn't want the heavy burden of the rough, old, wooden, full-size cross. They wanted to know if this would be good enough to show others they were not ashamed of following Jesus without giving up too much.

One last person showed up to answer the call.  She chose to deny herself and obey Jesus with everything she was and had. She picked up the heavy cross, staggered under the weight and yet felt  refreshed because Jesus took all her burdens and sins as she accepted God's gift of salvation. Romans 6:23 "For the wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ."

Decades have blurred all the details of the play, but the message remains strong in my heart and mind Incorporating music and the visual actions of the play reinforced the Bible verses and the message of Easter. The call of the cross remains the same today as it did when Jesus died on it, was buried and rose again. Jesus still calls us to come to him, deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him completely. Do we come? Do we deny ourselves or are we ashamed and want to hide the fact we follow him? Do we want life to be easy and long for a prosperity gospel, that does not require much of us? Do we adorn ourselves with the cross in the form of jewelry but never think about the cost to Jesus of hanging on the rough cross of Calvary to pay the penalty for our sins? Have we decided to follow Jesus no matter what the cost, any place he leads, and totally trust Him for everything we need?

Verse 3 of the hymn, Old Rugged Cross, reminds us of the reason for the cross. Do we find it a thing of beauty because of what it symbolizes?

In the old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine
A wondrous beauty I see; 
For' twas o that old cross
Jesus suffered and died
To pardon and sanctify me.  




Words from verse 3 of Beneath the Cross of Jesus call me to examine myself. Can I honestly say with the hymn writer that my glory is in the cross of Jesus?


Content to let the world go by, 
To know no gain or loss, 
My sinful self, my only shame, 
My glory all the cross.

As I reflected back on the impact this play had on me, looked at the meaning of the call of the cross, and contemplated Easter's approach, I pray God will help me not be ashamed of following Him. I desire His help so I can live the lines from the hymn When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross, 
On which the Prince of glory died, 
My richest gains I count but loss, 
And pour contempt on all my pride. 

Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
that were a present far too small;
Love so amazing , so divine, 
Demands my soul, my life, my all. 

Carol Harrison lives, writes, and tells stories from Saskatoon, SK. She loves to share Bible Stories and real-life experiences to encourage others and help them learn to share their stories as well.

The Cradle and the Cross by Lynn Dove

One of my most favorite hymns is “Christmas Has Its Cradle, Easter Has Its Cross” by Rae E. Whitney.  Although probably sung most often at Christmas than at Easter, I think it is a hymn that is equally appropriate for both celebrations.  The two most important celebrations in Christian history are inseparably linked together, all part of God’s perfect plan to redeem the world.

Christmas has its cradle, where a Baby cried; did the lantern’s shadow show him crucified?

Did he foresee darkly His life’s willing loss?

Christmas has its cradle and Easter has its cross.

Christmas has its cradle; shepherds came to see, Little Son of Mary, Lamb of God to be 

Had His Father warned Him, none would grant Him room, save in the Christmas cradle and in the Easter tomb?

Christmas has its cradle, wise men came to bring, myrrh and gold and incense, offering for a King;

Myrrh alone stayed with Him, death’s balm for this Boy, from the Christmas cradle and to His Easter joy.

Christmas has its cradle, where that Baby cried; in the Easter garden, Christ lay, crucified;

When death’s power was conquered, God’s life through Him poured;

Christmas has its cradle and Easter has its Lord!

My sister-in-law gave us a beautiful nativity scene over forty years ago.  Every Christmas, I display the little scene prominently, so that it is the centre of attention amongst all the other decorations of the Christmas season.  When my daughter was only two years old, she watched with wide-eyed fascination as I carefully set out the little figures and I asked her to name each one. 

"Who are these three men with gifts in their hands?"  I asked her.

"Oh, those are the three wise men!"  She proudly stated.

"Who is this man?"  I pointed to another figure.

"That's Joseph!"

"Who is the Baby?"

"Baby Jesus!" she proudly shouted.

"And who is the lady beside Baby Jesus?"

Without hesitation she exclaimed, "That's Mary Christmas!"

I still can't help but giggle whenever I recall that precious memory.

My aunt gave me a ceramic depiction of The Last Supper many, many years ago.  It is one of my most cherished possessions for a couple of reasons.  Every time I look at it, I think of my sweet, little aunt, Eja, and how excited she was to give this to me as a gift.  She was my Godmother, and she was affectionally called "Gudmor", Danish for godmother.  She had a simple, honest, uncomplicated faith and I loved her like my own mother.  She passed away in 2003, and I miss her every day.  The depiction of The Last Supper is displayed all year round on a window ledge in my living room, and when I look at it, the Words of Christ come to me immediately, "Do this in remembrance of me." 

Jesus was with His closest friends the night before He was crucified, and He was trying to explain to them through the breaking of bread together during the Passover, that He would become the once and for all Sacrifice for the entire world.  They didn't understand the symbolism of the bread and wine until Jesus had ascended to His Father, but the act of taking Communion or The Lord's Supper has become one of the sacred ordinances within the Christian church. 

At Christmas, I display the Nativity Scene close to The Lord's Supper scene.  My kids didn't take note of this "tradition" and why I insisted the two displays be in such close proximity to one another until my daughter learned to play "Christmas Has Its Cradle, Easter Has Its Cross" on the piano.  As she played the song, she got the connection right away.  The Cradle and the Cross are inseparable.  The Birth and Death of Jesus ordained by God the Father to redeem the world.  "For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."  John 3:16

Merry Christmas, Fellow InScribers, and many happy returns in the New Year!

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and at lynndove.com   

The Passion Through John's Eyes by Lynn Dove

John looked out at the crowds of shouting people who had gathered along both sides of the road.  Jerusalem was more crowded than usual at this time of year, with people amassed to celebrate the Passover.  He was hidden in a doorway, shading his face in the folds of his prayer shawl.  There in the shadows he kept silent watch as the Roman procession came closer into view.  The last twenty-four hours had been spent following his beloved friend from trial to trial, always watching from a safe vantage point.  Fear overwhelmed him, not only for himself, but for his friend. 

He had been there the night they arrested Jesus.[1]  He had been aroused forcefully from a dreamless sleep, initially uncertain what the noise and commotion around him was all about.  Now fully awake and under the glow of torchlights, he saw Judas kiss Jesus on the cheek in greeting and then step aside to allow a Roman guard to grab hold of Jesus’ arm.  Before John could react, another of his closest friends intervened by pulling out the knife he always carried to cut fishing line and netting, and cut the ear off of the guard trying to arrest Jesus.  John recoiled in horror just remembering the blood and the brutality of the act that night.  It had happened so quickly!  In the aftermath, he had fixed his eyes angrily on Judas, furious by his betrayal of Jesus.  Judas had jumped back just in time to avoid the knife attack.  It would have served him right, he thought, and instantly regretted thinking it.  “Forgive me, Lord,” John silently prayed as he now huddled in the shadows on the crowded street.  “You warned us this would happen.  I didn’t understand.  Even when you touched the guard and healed his ear, you showed compassion, when all I thought about was revenge.  Forgive me.”

As sweat beaded on his forehead, he peeked out just far enough to see the Roman soldiers, some on horseback, several others following behind on foot, whipping and cursing the three prisoners in their charge.  John took note of two of the men, thieves he surmised, by the derogatory taunting and stone-throwing aimed at the two.  A small wagon, pulled by a donkey carried the cross braces while the men walked dejectedly beside the wagon and ducked and railed against the crowd with uncommon bravado in the face of their inevitable death sentence.  Following much more slowly behind them, John saw his friend.

Jesus was almost unrecognizable.  They had beaten, scourged and brutalized him with unimaginable cruelty.  Tattered, flayed skin, criss-crossed his slender frame, revealing muscle and tendon.  Blood oozed and ran down his body in rivulets.  The crowd suddenly grew silent, revolted by the misery and anguish they now saw in human form in front of them.  The soldiers had spared him no quarter.  Unlike the two men ahead, his heavy cross was not in the back of the donkey-pulled wagon.  He dragged his cross upon his own shoulders despite the horrible wounds that the praetorian guards had inflicted on him. 

He stumbled and dropped to his knees right in front of where John was hiding.  John winced in empathy as a crown of thorns cut jagged grooves into Jesus’ temple.  The crown, along with the seamless purple robe they had draped over him, had been yet another cruel attempt by his captors to mock the claim of Jesus being a “king”.  The guards, now impatient with this delay, lashed him with leather whips.  Some in the crowd, horrified by this, were now shouting, “Mercy!  Have mercy on him!”  Ignoring the yells, the guards continued their assault.   With super human effort, Jesus adjusted the cross on his back and slowly rose to his full height, but could not seem to make his feet move forward.  John, without thought now for his own safety, moved from his hiding place towards his friend to help him, but was held back by a soft tug on his robe from behind.  Turning, he saw her face.

Mary, Jesus’ mother, pleaded with her eyes for John not to interfere.  She held out her hands to him and with great compassion, John enfolded her in a soft embrace.  She clung to him, his arms tightly wrapped around her slender form, and then she collapsed onto him weak-kneed and weeping with despair.  John cradled her face to his chest, but she forced herself to look past him towards her son, who trudged past them now with grim determination.  When Jesus stumbled and fell again, the cross landing heavily on top of him this time, John felt Mary’s body jolt forward but he wouldn’t release his grip on her.

Exasperated now, one of the guards caught sight of a giant of a man and pulled him forcibly out from the crowd and ordered him to carry the cross for Jesus the rest of the way up the hill to Golgotha.  John, hugging Mary to his side, followed the sombre procession with the rest of the crowd, as they slowly made their way up the hill.

The sound of metal striking bone and wood resonated loudly as the guards drove the long spikes through the wrists and feet of the prisoners, securing their bodies to the crosses.  John was numb, watching the crosses being raised, one on each side with Jesus in the middle.  He watched in disgust as the guards took Jesus’ clothes and divided them into four shares, one for each of them, and cast lots for  the seamless robe.  John remembered one of David’s psalms, “They divided my clothes among them and cast lots for my garment.”[2]  Scripture was being fulfilled right in front of him!

The crowd dispersed quickly once the gruesome spectacle of the execution sentences had been carried out.  From previous experience, most people soon got bored of how long it took for prisoners to die on a cross.  It was not long before John realized that he and Mary were amongst only a handful of others who remained at the foot of the cross.  He glanced around and saw Jesus’ aunt, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary Magdalene, all weeping mournfully together, with their eyes upturned towards the face of Jesus.  John raised his own eyes and re-read the sign that was nailed to Jesus’s cross.  Written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek, all three languages familiar to John, he remembered the heated exchange only hours before between Pilate, the Roman Governor, and the chief priests during Jesus’ trial.  Pilate had finally succumbed to public pressure to execute Jesus but as a parting shot at the Jewish leadership had been adamant that a sign be nailed to the cross saying, ‘The King of the Jews’.   The Jewish leaders had complained vehemently about the wording, but Pilate answered, “What I have written, I have written.”

John looked up into his friend’s face and Jesus looked directly at him.  John shuddered involuntarily.  Even in his dismal state, Jesus was still fully aware of his surroundings and of those who had gathered around him.  Jesus painfully raised his head up so he could speak boldly.  “Woman,” he called to his mother, “here is your son.”  His eyes looked from Mary to John and then leveling a piercing gaze upon John said, “Here is your mother.”  The intent was clear.  John was now fully responsible for Jesus’ mother, Mary.  As she leaned into him, he lightly put his arm around her shoulder.  John nodded to indicate he would willingly carry out this last request for his friend.  Mary would always have an honoured place in his home.

John barely noticed the passage of time there on the hill.   Jesus conversed with the two men hanging on their crosses beside him, but John did not take note of the words they exchanged.  The hours passed.  There was little movement now from the three men.  John leaned forward to hear laboured breathing from one of the thieves, and then was startled when Jesus suddenly cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  Someone murmured, “God has turned his back on him.”  John knew better.  Jesus was quoting that same psalm of David that had been brought to John’s mind when the guards were casting lots for Jesus’ clothing.  Weak from his torture on the cross, Jesus only had the strength to speak the first line but John had memorized the entire psalm too.  He had sung it as a child in synagogue.  It was so familiar to him and yet he never quite understood what the words meant until that very moment.  He softly whispered the last line, “They will proclaim his righteousness, declaring to a people yet unborn: He has done it!”[3]

Finally, as the afternoon wore on, Jesus muttered, “I am thirsty.”  So a Roman guard soaked a sponge on a stalk of hyssop plant with wine vinegar and lifted it to Jesus’ lips.  When he had received the drink, and knowing that everything had now been accomplished so that Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “It is finished.”  With that, Jesus bowed his head and gave up his spirit. 

John took hold of Mary then, clutching her to himself as they wept together in anguish.  The sky grew dark and the earth trembled.  They held each other, oblivious to the world around them.  Still grief stricken, John reluctantly let go of her.  Mary, unhindered now, boldly approached the cross and reached up to touch the calloused feet of her beloved son.  John followed and warily laid his fingers upon the blood encrusted toes of his dear friend.  With an impact he had never felt before, John felt a jolt go through his entire body.  The sensation nearly brought him to his knees.  Unmistakable, distinctive words formulated themselves in his mind, so clearly he thought he could hear Jesus’ voice speak them!  He didn’t understand their meaning at first, but he somehow knew that their explanation and intent would be revealed to him in time.  John gazed up into the peaceful face of Jesus, and the words continued to manifest themselves in his heart and mind.  He would never forget them. 

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  He was with God in the beginning.  Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.”[4]

Lynn Dove is the award-winning author, of the YA “Wounded Trilogy”- a contemporary Christian fiction series with coming-of-age themes.  A wife, mom, grandmother, and free-lance writer with articles published in several magazines and anthologies including Chicken Soup for the Soul books, her blog, “Journey Thoughts” is a Canadian Christian Writing Award winner.  Readers may connect with her on Facebook, Twitter, and at lynndove.com 

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[1] This narrative is primarily based on the Biblical text from the Gospel of John 19:1-30. 

[2] Psalm 22: 18.

[3] Psalm 22: 31

[4] John 1: 1-4

The Centurion by Carol Harrison

Ten years ago our church decided to do a 'Living Museum' for an Easter celebration. Tour guides led groups of people to the various exhibits. At the push of a button a character from the Easter story appeared to come to life and offer a monologue telling the Easter story from their perspective. I wrote several of them including the one for the centurion which I will share with you on this blog post.

(The centurion speaks in a matter of fact voice - reciting facts.)

I am a centurion, an officer of the Roman Army in charge of one hundred men. My duty included supervising the punishment of common criminals with our Roman execution method called crucifixion.We nailed these criminals on rough wooden beams, then dropped these crosses with a thud into the ground. I believed my superiors when they said, "Let this serve as warnings to others who choose to disobey our laws."

I had been in charge of many crucifixions but this one was different. . .

( he pauses, deep in thought for a moment)

We hung three men today but the one in the middle. . . this Jesus. . . he was so beaten down by the time he was carrying his cross out to Golgotha, that place that appeared to be shaped like a skull, he fell under its weight. We grabbed a strong young man named Simon from the jeering crowds to finish carrying it for him. He obliged under duress.

We tacked the charge of thief on the crosses on either side. These common criminals had their charges printed for all to read. The charge we tacked above the head of this Jesus - the one in the middle - read King of the Jews. . . .

Was this true? Why would the Jews, the religious leaders want us to crucify one of their own, a leader too, a king?

Why was he here? I heard amazing rumors of him healing the sick and even casting out demons, but a King?

Were we making a mistake? I kept my thoughts to myself for I would never question my orders. But I wondered.

Jesus remained mostly silent throughout his ordeal on that cross. He uttered a few things but not the angry outbursts or the cursing I usually hear from the scoundrels we hang. He cried out for His Father to forgive all of us and said we didn't know what we were doing. How could he say that? How could he choose to forgive us? I hadn't done anything wrong by following my orders had I?

(The centurion's voice takes on a more wavering quality)

Only three hours after we nailed Jesus to the cross the sky went as black as night even though it was the middle of the day. The earth shook beneath my feet. Rocks split open. For three hours these strange, frightening occurrences continued and then. . .

This Jesus said the strangest thing. "It is finished. Father I give you my spirit." and with those words he breathed his last breath. Just like that it was over. He died. We didn't even have to break his legs to hurry his death. No one dies that quickly on the cross. I didn't believe he could either so I plunged my spear into his side to check. Blood and water poured out. There could be no doubt. This Jesus was dead!

I did my job today. I made sure the three men sentenced to die were hung up on crosses. While I waited for them to die, I watched. I listened. I saw this Jesus die like I have seen no others die. I can only conclude that surely this was the Son of God!

Pilate summoned me for a report on the death of Jesus. I must obey.

( He reports to Pilate in the authoritative voice of a commander of men)

All who are listening, all who are skeptical, believe my report for I am a centurion, an officer of the Roman army in charge of the crucifixion of Jesus. I was there watching and listening to every word he uttered.I jabbed my spear into his body to make sure of his death. Believe my account of the strange occurrences I witnessed. This Jesus died today at the ninth hour. According to his final words He chose to give up his spirit.

(voice fades from authoritative to more reverent and quieter at the end.)

Jesus - surely He was the Son of God.

To hear this monologue acted out gave me a new appreciation for the depth of awe the centurion must have felt as he said those words aloud - surely He was the Son of God. We are not told of his reactions to the empty tomb three days later but I wonder if he chose to follow the resurrected Jesus who offered his life as a sacrifice for all. The price has been paid. The gift of salvation is waiting for all who choose to accept it.

May we praise the One who loves us so much he stretched out his arms and died.

Carol Harrison, B.Ed. from Saskatoon, has published one book, Amee’s Story, and has short stories in over a dozen anthologies. She has a passion for sharing stories from real-life experiences and God’s Word to help others find a glimmer of hope and a glimpse of joy.

Famous Lasting Words by Bob Jones

Mel Gibson used his cinematic license to frame the last words of Scotland’s William Wallace in the 1995 movie Braveheart. After experiencing gruesome torture as a traitor to England, his executioner suggests that if he would just beg for mercy, his pain would end quickly. The English crowd, once thrilled to see their enemy in agony, picks up the escalating chant of “Mercy,” urging him on. Wallace gathers his strength and stuns the crowd by screaming out one last time his rallying cry, “Freedom!”

Good theatre? Yes.

Great history? Probably not.

Aside from the fact that Gibson lessens the actual horror of the violence done to Wallace, history does not record his last words.

It’s been said that the final moments of one’s life provide a snapshot or an MRI into that entire life. Some last words become immortalized. None are so succinct and historically accurate as what are known as the seven last “words” of Jesus Christ.

The “words” of Jesus, spoken from the Cross are actually seven short phrases. To find all seven you must read all the gospels, since none of the writers records all seven. The words, uttered over the span of six hours, and remembered by his mother, and disciple, John, follow in chronological order:

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34)

“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:43)

“Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother.” (John 19:26–27)

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34)

“I thirst.” (John 19:28)

“It is finished.” (John 19:30)

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Luke 23:46)

His final words are laced with phrases from Psalm 22, Psalm 31, and Psalm 69. The Psalms were woven in the fabric of Jesus’ life, as they would be in any devoted Jew. What once gave his life context now provided Him comfort and a prophetic platform to declare His Father’s plan.

When darkness prevails in life, it takes faith even to talk to God - even if it’s to complain to Him. These final words of Jesus show his absolute trust in God. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

He did not whisper in defeat as He slipped silently in to the night. He is immortalized shouting – “crying with a loud voice” - his defiance and defeat of death and His victory over sin.

Jesus’ shout has been termed a model of prayer for anyone when afraid, sick, or facing death. It says in effect: "I commit myself to you, O God. In my living. And in my dying. In the good times and in the bad. Whatever I am and have, I place in your hands, Lord, for your glory.”

What are you facing this Easter?

Do you need forgiveness?

Feeling forsaken or forgotten by God?

Wrestling with doubts about your faith?

Battling cancer or disease?

Facing a prognosis of death?

Find your hope and courage in the eternal words of Jesus. Commend your life to God’s hands. Declare your freedom.

“He has done it.” Psalm 22:31 

Bob is a recovering perfectionist, who collects Coca-Cola memorabilia and drinks Iced Tea. His office walls are adorned with his sons’ framed football jerseys, and his library shelves, with soul food. He writes to inspire people to be real, grow an authentic faith in Jesus, enjoy healthy relationships and discover their life purpose.

Follow his writing at Pointes Of View.

Good Friday -- Janet Sketchley

“Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death—
even death on a cross!” Philippians 2:5-8, NIV*

I have a friend who resists accepting God because of the Cross. How could a loving Father send His own Son to such a cruel death? Why would He arrange it that way?

Short answer: because there was no other way. A loving Father would have chosen any other way, grasped at any straw. But nothing else had the power to break the power of sin and restore humanity to a God both loving and holy. As long as we stood steeped in evil, we couldn’t stand with Him.

And let’s admit it, there’s not one of us who has never sinned. One sin is all it takes. That’s not hardline legalism, that’s a fact of life. Purity and filth can’t coexist.

That doesn’t mean we’re all dirty, rotten scoundrels, just that we’re not pure. What a love, Who would endure torture and death to restore us!

Let’s be very clear: Jesus was not a victim. He knew what was coming, knew the cost before He stepped out of Heaven. Theologians debate whether He understood it from the Nativity, but we can be sure He knew it that night in the garden. But He chose to go ahead because there was no other way.

Thank You, Jesus, for laying aside Heaven’s splendour to walk in human flesh and show us the Father. And to suffer and die so that we could have eternal life with Father, Son and Spirit.

One of the ways I’ll observe His sacrifice for me is to listen to Todd Agnew’s “Blood is on My Hands” (Reflections of Something, 2007). I invite you to take 5 minutes to visit (Click here or go to YouTube and search by title). The visuals are difficult in places, but you can close your eyes and listen.

Because of Jesus,

Joanna Mallory

PS: If you feel inclined, please lift a prayer for K. God is a patient suitor.

*(New International Version Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. To read this passage in context, see www.biblegateway.com)

© Janet Sketchley, 2008
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For devotionals, reviews and conversation, stop by Janet Sketchley's blog, God with Us: Finding Joy.