During the hours when Jesus hung on the cross leading up to his death, he uttered seven “words” (actually short sentences, as recorded across the four gospels), and these words continue to be meaningful and insightful to us today if we’re willing to spend some time in quiet with them. For they are not only remembrances of that day and of Jesus’ suffering and death, but also serve as reminders of how we are to live in our own moments of suffering. As we enter Holy Week, I offer seven short reflections on these words and ask you to consider what they might mean to you, today.
Seven: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Luke 23: 44-46
It is the middle of the afternoon and darkness has descended over Jerusalem and its environs. This is no passing storm. Even the universe is rebelling, it seems, against the injustice of what is happening on Golgotha. The sun has been eclipsed, covered over by a lesser light, as seemingly has the life of Jesus the Christ. The veil of the temple — separating the Holy of Holies from the people — has been torn down the middle. There is no longer this hidden distance between God and humans. Jesus summons one last burst of energy and cries out, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” With those words, he breathes his last. Will this be the end of him and his idea of a new kind of kingdom where love reigns?
For those who believe, we know this is not the end of the story but rather the beginning of something new. It is a communion between God and the rest of us, born out of this painful death and Jesus’ surrender and giving up of his Spirit. For as Jesus gives his last breath he gives the promise of a new breath and new Holy Spirit that will continue to live in us — as Church, as individuals, as citizens of the world who must come to know that we need each other. (How are we doing with that?)
It is, indeed, his Spirit that matters. “Spirit,” from the same Greek word — pneuma — that gives us “breath,” Jesus is leaving us more than a memory. He is giving us an indwelling of God in our lives. Never again will we be alone, if we are prepared to watch and listen for the Spirit’s gentle movement. For like the gentle Jesus, this Holy Spirit is more like a whisper than a roar. More like an expired breath than a shout for attention. More like love than anything we can imagine.
Ask yourself in silence: How can I better still myself to experience the spirit of God breathed on the world?
Happy Easter to all!
