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Opening Prayer
Hymn: Here is love vast as the ocean
Bible Reading – Luke 22:47-62
Peter – “I let him down”
I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t. I felt so awful. Sick in the pit of my stomach. Those words he had said to me kept going round my head. “Tonight, before the cock crows, you’ll deny three times you’ve ever known me.” I couldn’t believe it! Me, Peter, the one he’d nicknamed Rocky, deny Jesus? Never. As if I could. He’d given me purpose, forgiven every one of my stupid mistakes! I excelled myself on Thursday night. Having sworn blind that I wouldn’t let Jesus down, first I fell asleep in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus had specifically asked me to keep watch and pray with him; then, when they came to arrest Jesus, I struck out, cutting off a man’s ear, even though I knew really this was the last thing Jesus would want. Didn’t think, did I? Typical Jesus, he healed the man, there and then. That’s the kind of guy he was. The kind of guy you follow to the very end. That’s what I meant to do, at least. I followed the arresting party from Gethsemane at a distance. I wanted to be good to my word. I didn’t want to abandon Jesus. Then, in the high priest’s court, I didn’t know what to do – Jesus had been taken off somewhere, I dread to think what they were doing to him – so I hung around and tried to remain inconspicuous. I obviously failed, because they kept looking at me suspiciously and then asked me, on three different occasions, if I had anything to do with Jesus. Each time, I said no. Each denial was a kick to the stomach. The final time, the cock crowed. Jesus turned and looked at me. Despite my bold and brash words, despite my good intentions, it’d all happened as Jesus had said it would. He’d probably even heard my final denial. Just imagine how he must have felt in that moment; me, his Rock, his closest friend, denied knowing him. His look wasn’t one of anger. Actually, believe it or not, it was a look of love. Forgiveness, even. Well, I couldn’t handle that. I’d let Jesus down. I was so ashamed of myself, I ran out and wept. Wept like I’ve never wept before. How could I have denied the man who’d turned my life upside down? Who’d allowed me to share in the greatest adventure ever? I couldn’t! And yet I did. I let Jesus down. Lord, please forgive me.
Prayer:
Confess to God any areas where you feel you have let him down.
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Hymn: Come and see
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Bible reading – Luke 22:63 – 23:25
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Barabbas – “Jesus took my place”
Right now, I should be dead, or dying, at least. I was involved in the uprising. The Romans call me a terrorist. I’d say I was more of a freedom fighter. The Romans deserve everything that’s coming for them. Anyway, that’s beside the point … the point is, I got caught and sentenced to death. I knew what that meant – the crosses are everywhere – a message to everyone that there’s no messing with Rome, and soon I’d be on one. I was resigned to my fate. Nothing I could do about it.
But then, early in the morning, I was dragged out bound in front of the governor, Pilate, and the crowd. I heard something about a Jewish custom that meant a prisoner would be pardoned at Passover, and the crowd was given a choice – either I or another man, Jesus of Nazareth, could be freed. I looked over at this other man – first time I’d seen him. He certainly didn’t look like your typical criminal. He was a political prisoner, apparently. Stitched up by the authorities, I reckon. Anyway, Pilate the Governor was trying to find out whose execution would be more popular – mine or his – so, here I was at the mercy of the crowd. “Who do you want me to release?” he asked, “Barabbas or Jesus who is called the Messiah?” Amazingly, the crowd cried out, “Barabbas” – my name. “And what do you want me to do with Jesus?” he asked once again. The crowd cried out, “Crucify him!” Pilate obviously smelt a rat, so he tried again. “But he’s done nothing wrong.” But the crowd got louder and angrier, crying out again, “Crucify him!” So Pilate gave in, and I found myself free.
I’ve been given my life back. Jesus took my place. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s done nothing wrong, that he’s an innocent man, and he took my place. I, the guilty one, have walked free. Life will be different from now on. It has to be different – I’ve been given a second chance. Better make the most of it.
Prayer:
Give thanks that Jesus gives each of us a second chance.
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Hymn: My Lord, what love is this
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Bible reading – Luke 23:26-43
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A Thief in Paradise
I’m not a good man. I’ve done some horrible things. I’ve stolen, hurt people, I even killed someone. I never intended that, it kind of happened. Anyway, I got caught and sentenced to death. I deserved it – deserved everything that came to me.
Three of us were up on those crosses being crucified that day. One was like me – a robber – a bandit, getting his just desserts, just like me. The other one, Jesus, was different – he just seemed innocent, a victim of some horrendous injustice.
Crucifixion is awful. The beatings are bad enough, but then they nail you to that cross. While we were being nailed, me and this other robber bloke were swearing and cursing, wishing we’d never been born. Jesus at first, didn’t say a word, but then he did. It was amazing. “Father, forgive them,” he said, “They don’t know what they’re doing.” How can he say that? He was innocent; it was a disgrace the way they’d treated him. Yet, he could ask God to forgive them? They didn’t deserve it, they deserved to be punished, just like us. And yet he forgave them. That’s incredible.
Anyway, this man had to put up with being mocked and spat on. Again, he said nothing, took it all on the chin. Didn’t get bitter or angry. And then the other guy started joining in. He sneered at Jesus, “if you’re who you say you are, why don’t you save us and yourself. As if you could.”
I’d kept my mouth shut until then, but I couldn’t stand it any more – how could they do this to this bloke. He’d done nothing wrong! I turned to the other thief and said, “don’t you fear God? You should do! You and I are guilty as sin. We’ve paid the price, we deserve to be here. But this man has done nothing wrong! He’s innocent. Just leave him alone.”
I don’t know why I said the next bit, but something in him gave me hope – hope for someone like me. So, I turned to Jesus and said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” I knew he was a King, but not the usual sort of King. And I knew he was the only hope that I could possibly have. I wasn’t expecting much; I didn’t deserve much good to happen to me – I was expecting him to reject me like everyone else had.
But he said something incredible; something I will never forget and always be thankful for. He turned to me and said, “Today you’ll be with me in paradise.”
Me, a crook, a murderer, a scumbag, an awful, awful man, in paradise. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to be loved in such a way. And yet, here I am. A thief in paradise. – and it’s amazing. Why am I here? Because a crucified King opened the door and let me in. There is hope for people even like me – and it’s amazing!
Prayer:
Give thanks for the hope of heaven for those who have faith in Jesus’ power to save.
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Hymn: When I survey
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Bible Reading – Luke 23:44-49
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The Centurion – “Could I be forgiven too?”
It’s my job as a centurion to keep the peace. Not an easy task at Jewish festival season. Hundreds of thousands of people flock from all over the country for their celebrations – and there’s almost always trouble. We know it’s coming now – we’re used to snuffing out any rebellion before it has any chance of getting going. The ringleaders are arrested, whipped and then crucified. This generally nips the trouble in the bud.
We crucified three that day. Two were pretty standard – they were bandits and murderers, but there was something different about the third man. He was different – an apparent rebel, sentenced to death on the insistence of the local rulers, who wanted rid of him no matter what and promised our Governor Pilate trouble if he didn’t give in. Seemed very fishy to me.
When he was handed over to us, we led him out to Skull Hill, just outside the city. He was too weak to carry the cross himself, so we got someone from the crowd to carry it for him. And we crucified him – with those two bandits. When he was up there, people hurled insults on him.
Normally our victims shout and scream and curse, but he didn’t. He said very little. And the words he did say will be words I’ll never forget. As we were nailing him to the cross, he managed to say, “Father, forgive them. They don’t what they’re doing.” Wow. I didn’t think much of it then, but the more I think of it, the more it amazes me. Here was a man who was innocent, who’d been brutally treated and mocked, and crucified, uttering words of forgiveness to the very people who’d put him there.
At about noon, something really strange happened – the sky went pitch black. It was spooky. Somehow, I knew that this darkness was to do with Jesus. Something was going on that was bigger than the death of a common criminal. It stayed dark for about three hours, and then Jesus gave a loud cry, calling out to his God, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ He’d obviously come to a place of peace. Those were the last words he said, as he died soon afterwards.
I’d watched him all that day. He’d gone through such unimaginable horror, and yet never once did he rise to bitterness or anger. Amazing! I’ve watched many men die, and I can tell you there was something different about him. He was no ordinary criminal, no ordinary man. I knew he was special, so I cried out, “Surely, he was a righteous man.”
“Father, forgive them,” he said. “Father, forgive them.” God knows the terrible things I’ve done; the blood on my hands. I don’t deserve to be forgiven, and yet that man, Jesus, forgave all those who killed him. That includes me. Could it be that I’ve been forgiven too? That all the terrible things I’ve done in my life have been wiped away? Could it be that I can have a brand new start, that these bloodied hands might be able to be clean once more?
Prayer:
Are there any areas of life where you feel like you need a brand new start? Commit them to Jesus.
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Bible reading – Luke 23:50-56
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Joseph of Arimathea – Out of the shadows
I’ll never forget the first time I saw Jesus. He was teaching in the temple courts. There was something compelling about the way he spoke, telling his hearers about the Kingdom of God. I long to see God’s kingdom come. I long to see justice and mercy, to see desperate people finding hope and healing, as the prophets foretold. Then, when I heard Jesus speak and saw the things he did, it dawned on me that the Kingdom of God was coming through him. He was the one about whom the prophets had spoken. But not everyone saw it that way. I’m part of the Sanhedrin, the temple council; we advise the High Priest. Most of us try and make decisions that uphold our faith and honour the Lord, but others see it as a means to power. Well, over time, it became clear that the high priest and some others saw Jesus as a threat. At first, they viewed him as an irritant, but the more he spoke up and challenged their hypocrisy, the more popular he seemed to get with the people, the more determined the High Priest and some of the Sanhedrin were to have Jesus silenced. This all came to a head in the week leading to the Passover. Throughout the week, he was very open in his criticism of the temple authorities and from the mutterings I’d heard, it was clear they’d had enough of him. This teacher had to go.
I wasn’t there at his trial. I’m not important enough. Caiaphas, the high priest had organised it without me, assembled enough of his supporters to ensure they could pass a death sentence – they only needed twenty-three to get the job done. Though I’d kept quiet about my allegiance to Jesus, Caiaphas would have known I wasn’t going to be in cahoots with his plans. I was horrified when I found out what had happened. They’d sentenced an innocent man to death. I did not consent to this decision. I played no part in this action. It made me ashamed to be part of such a council and never to have spoken up for this man.
During that awful day, when Jesus was dying on that cross, I wanted to help him somehow, to do something to show where my allegiance truly lay, but I couldn’t think what. Then, when I heard that Jesus had died, I knew what I could do. I went to Pilate and obtained his permission to bury Jesus and place him in the tomb that had just been dug for myself and my family. We bought the grave clothes, had Jesus taken down from the cross, wrapped up his body and placed it in the tomb. Everyone else on the council was now busy getting ready for the Passover, they weren’t going to pose an immediate danger to me, but in time everyone will find out where my allegiance really lies, that I’m a follower of Jesus of Nazareth, who was wrongly killed today. They will find out in time, and I’m not afraid of what they might do to me. It’s time to step out of the shadows. It’s time to be counted.
Prayer:
Pray for courage to step out of the shadows and make it known that you are a follower of Jesus.
Hymn: My song is love unknown
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