The time has come. The promise that began in Bethlehem some thirty-three years earlier is nearing fruition. A great storm is brewing—not the kind we experience here in the Ozarks in springtime—but an emotional storm of doubt and betrayal. Just a few days earlier, Jesus had been heralded as a king and now, the same crowd has adopted a mob mentality. Just a few rabble-rousers turned worshippers into haters, clamoring for the death of a man who had never committed a crime. And the kangaroo court allowed it to happen.

A mob acts out of emotion, absent facts, absent contemplation, and mostly absent responsibility. What they get in return is anonymity. Conscience can be exhausting. Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird

An angry mob, incited to riot by a few well-placed rumors, by signs accusing someone of something, whether true or not, some targeted comments from the rear of the crowd or social media posts. We’ve seen much of that in recent years, filling our TV screens and flooding the twenty-four-hour streaming newscasts. Our instant communication makes it much easier and farther-reaching than in Jesus’ day. In seconds venomous statements and actions can reach millions of people. I wonder how quickly our current culture would sentence Jesus to death row. And how many of the antagonists would even know why? Or would they just be caught up in the frenzy?

God put the wrong on him who never did anything wrong, so we could be put right with God. II Corinthians 5:21 MSG.

So, the mechanics were set in motion. Jesus would be beaten to within an inch of death. He would be ordered to carry his own cross to the hill where he would be executed. Once there, beaten and bloodied, he would be laid upon the cross and, as the nails pierced his hands, he saw before his eyes every sin that you or I would ever commit. With the nails in place, the cross was raised and his weight fell upon the nails. For six long hours, he hung there in excruciating agony, he was hungry for he hadn’t eaten since the night before. He was thirsty and dehydrated, yet he asked for nothing.

He spoke few words, but those he did utter, were meaningful. To me, the most poignant were the three words, “It is finished.” All the planning since the beginning of time, all the mistakes made by all humans, then and before them, and all that would ever be, came down to that one moment. We can never imagine the weight he took upon himself just to bear our sins.

The day had become dark as night and the heavens roared in anger that this perfect one had to die. And at the instant when he breathed his last breath, the temple curtain was torn in half. The curtain that separated man from God was no more. Jesus had opened the pathway for all mankind to come freely to Him who would forever be our guide, our comforter, our merciful friend, our Savior.

Those three final words signaled not only Jesus’ human death but also eliminated the middleman. We could speak to God directly and He would hear every word.

When I’m tempted to doubt how much He loves me, I remember how Jesus put aside His human emotions, stayed the course, did the will of His Father, and kept going…for you and me. Erin Keeley Marshall, Mornings with Jesus 2025