Tetelestai = completed

A lot of my blog ideas come from conversations over breakfast with my husband. Today's conversation had to do with how Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing," when He was being crucified. 

Many people think that this was because of the cruel things that were happening to Him. But that wasn't all of it. The more important part was that these people were the instruments through which the sacrifice for our sins were being made. They were sacrificing the Passover Lamb. This was a sacred moment - and they didn't realize the sanctity of what they were doing. In this context, Jesus' "forgive them" makes a lot more sense. 

Which brings me to Jesus' last STATEMENT from the cross. Keep in mind that every time He wanted to say something, He had to take a breath. To take a breath, He had to push down all of His weight on the spike driven through both of His ankles - an excrutiating prospect. And yet what He said was not so much a cry of relief but of accomplishment, of triumph. 

You see, the Greek word that is translated "It is finished" in some translations was a Greek business term, meaning "Completed!"  It referred to a transaction where someone paid in full for something they were purchasing.  The transaction was completed, accomplished, finished: there was nothing more that needed to be done because everything was finished. 

Put into spiritual terms, every sin: past, present, and future, once and for all, was paid for, in one huge transaction - at Calvary. As soon as it was completed, Jesus cried out that it was finished, and then committed His spirit to the Father's hands. And then He died. 

And to show that His transaction was accepted, God raised Him from the dead on the third day. 

Free Illustration by TheDigitalArtist at Pixabay

Nothing better than having your parking validated after you've spent all your resources!! :D

Tetelestai. The price is paid.
Tetelestai. The way has been made.
Tetelestai. Nothing more to do.
Tetelestai. For me, and for you.  
-- (c) Judy Gillis, 2020-03-19

Salvation is not something that we own. Jesus bought and paid for it; it is HIS. So He has the right to give it to whoever believes in what He accomplished. It's as simple as all that. Nothing we can do could ever pay that debt. But He could. And He did.

It is finished. Tetelestai. It is completed. Praise to God on High!!  
-- (Judy Gillis, 2020)

WAY COOL.

Summer Fall Winter Spring

In a temperate climate (one with four seasons), we take summer for granted. Where I live, it lasts a relatively short time - full of hot and humid days, hot and humid nights, broken only by rain ranging from gentle to torrential. In the fall, the temperatures begin to descend, the humidity gradually departs accompanied by still more rain, the migratory birds leave in groups, and the plants prepare for hibernation.  In the winter, which (here) lasts the longest of all of the seasons, the temperatures plummet and rain falls in the form of snow - sometimes little, sometimes much - and most people (and animals) hole up until it passes. And in the spring, which starts later than the calendar says it does, temperatures creep upward, the snow and ice melt, birds return, and there is a hint (growing ever stronger) of fresh green grass as the stiff ground yields under our feet.

Throughout the seasons stand the deciduous trees - graceful or gnarled, tall or squat, their beauty is unsurpassed. They are the first to signal the changes in season - in summer, their seeds have fallen and their leaf colour deepens, and their canopies grow large and shade those who wish to seek the shade; in fall, they produce less chlorophyll and their hidden colours emerge before the leaves dry out and fall; in winter, they patiently wait, sap frozen in a state of suspended animation, and long before the first blade of grass, the sap starts to flow and their branches are pregnant with new life.  

Photo "Autumn Gold" provided by
Simon Howden at www.freedigitalphotos.net

So like the stages of life.  It seems that in our prime, when we are flourishing and thriving, we provide automatic shelter for those who need help - until they don't anymore, and our little ones, the ones we protected for so long, fly away.  Then, the colours of our life emerge as we stop trying to rely on ourselves and just relax and let go - the beauty is indescribable and yet, we are so often unaware of it.  Eventually, the moment comes when we let go completely, and fly away ourselves.  What is left behind is a cold reality for those left behind - the grief of winter, where nothing moves except the frigid winds of loneliness and despair.  Sometimes, all that can be hoped for is to endure - endure until the spring comes ... for it always comes, even though the winter seems the longest. 

And then comes the shift in the wind, the warming of the earth, the imperceptible lengthening of the days.  And it is the trees - bless them, they have not died as it appeared - which burgeon with hope, and in the very spot vacated by the leaves that departed months ago, new shoots form, unseen except for the swelling promise: buds from which will eventually burst new leaves and seeds for the next generation. 

Photo "Maple Seeds" courtesy of
Carlos Porto at www.freedigitalphotos.net

Those who have died have flown, and in fact, nourish the new growth of those who come after - a never-ending cycle of birth, growth, life, maturity, death, grief, and rebirth, - all showing us that it is not an end when circumstances change.  There is only change.  Though change is hard to endure, it is one of the unchanging things about life.

The sap still lives; the sun still gives light and (though it does not seem so in winter) warmth to sustain us.  And in the very spot where once there was loss, there will be that spark of life, even though it might look like it is dead and hopeless now.  There is hope.  Life is eternal.  The container, the manifestation of life may disappear, but it does not mean that life ceases to exist.  It only means that it has changed form.  And someday too, we will join in the dance and learn for ourselves what it is to change form, to fly away and in so doing, nurture those yet to come.

Thank You Lord!!

Dear Jesus,
I have so very much for which to be grateful. You've given me such riches: family, friends, a home, a job to pay for it, food and drinkable water in abundance, reliable transportation, access to adequate health care, and so many more things that I take for granted every single day.

But all these pale in comparison with the eternal spiritual blessings you have poured out on me.

I've been thinking a lot about what happened when I passed from a living death to a living life, complete in You in spite of my keen awareness of my own insufficiency. I know that in my own human strength, there is absolutely nothing I can do to make any kind of change within me, as much as I try. It's just not part of my human nature. I fail every day... sometimes several times a day. 

Photo "Loving Father And His Baby" courtesy
of David Castillo Dominici at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

Yet ... You call me Yours!! You were the chief Agent in my adoption into our Father's family. He calls me His daughter. Your Spirit lives inside of me. You think about me, listen for my heart's voice, and You are FOR ME. Constantly. Whether I fail You or not (and I fail You more often than not) our Father sees me as holy and blameless before Him ... because of You. He dotes on me. He watches me with joy even when I am doing absolutely nothing, just because I am His. He is filled with so much joy that He sings over me (Zeph. 3:17). Because of You, Jesus, I can have that totally dependent relationship on Him and I can know He is thrilled by me even when I am sleeping. Just like I tenderly watched my own sleeping babes ... so does He.

I am overwhelmed!!

I cannot begin to fathom why He would choose me in You before the foundation of the world... but He - and You - did. I can barely grasp the concept that You would love me beyond what I could ask or even imagine. And as You very well know, I can imagine a LOT. 

Thank You. I can't begin to thank You enough! Thank You that You finished, once and for all, the sin question. The moment You cried out, "It is FINISHED!" that settled it! Sins - past, present, and future, from every person that had ever lived or who would ever live - all gathered together in one moment of time and You cancelled the debt, Jesus. PAID IN FULL. 

This is not some head-in-the-clouds, esoteric, or abstract concept. It's REAL. As real as the breath that I breathe. This marvelous truth - the truth of Your forgiveness - is so real, so present, that before I even become aware that I've messed up, You've already forgiven me...eons ago. To You, past, present, and future are all the same. In Eternity past You died for me. At Calvary You died for me. And throughout the Ages to come, You are the Slain Lamb standing for me. I am clean - whiter and more pure than snowflakes - not because of anything that I have done. It's all YOU. All I need do is thank You for that forgiveness that is already mine ... because of YOU.

And that's the thing. Thank You SO MUCH that it's not anything that I've done or ever will do. I know me; I would brag, Jesus, even if I only got ONE thing right! I'd get all proud of myself. But You did it all. 

I open myself, all that I am, to being known by You, to getting to know You more and more deeply. I truly could spend the rest of my life, the rest of eternity ... and it still wouldn't be enough time or intensity to worship You and thank You for this incredible gift. 

We ... are family, You and I. And it's all. Your. doing. 

Such unspeakable joy! Hall-e-lu-JAH!!

For the first ... and only ... time in forever

"Why do we call it 'Good' Friday if that's when they killed Jesus?"

I think every kid who has been exposed to church life has asked this at one point or another.

When my kids were little (under 5) and asked the question, my answer was simple. "It WAS a bad thing that they hurt Jesus and killed Him. But Jesus let them do it because He loved the whole world and that includes us, and them too. He knew it was the only way to help us get to know His Daddy God." 

I remember recently going to see the movie, "Frozen." (By the way, I highly recommend that movie. There are some important firsts in it!!) There is a song in the movie called "For the first time in forever." And today as I was pondering the significance of 'Good' Friday - and of Resurrection Sunday - it occurred to me that the sacrifice Jesus made for us on the cross was the original "First time in forever" and that it would be the only time in forever - and that it would be enough. 

I've said a lot of things in the past on this blog about the horrors of that day. no picture could begin to describe the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual anguish He endured. But today, I want to talk about the joys of that Passover Friday. 

Photo "Hand Reach To Sky"
courtesy of samuiblue at
www.freedigitalphotos.net

The obvious joy is that on that day, Jesus opened a way that previously had only been open to one person once a year for a limited time; when Jesus suffered, He was paying the penalty for our sin, the very thing that kept us from having a relationship with His Father. He was suspended at the crux between justice and love, taking on His own heart every sin that had ever been, was being, and ever would be committed - for the first and only time. No wonder His heart literally burst in His chest!! His suffering brought us peace. His bruises ushered in blessing. His heartache would bring us the happiness of communion with God. 

The Bible tells us that Jesus, "for the joy that was set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame..."  That verse always bugged me because, after all, didn't Jesus pray and ask for this cup to be removed?  I couldn't see past the pain of the cross.  The joy, however, that was set before Jesus was the joy of opening the door of access to relationship to whoever wanted to enter it.

Just before He died, He cried out, "It is finished!!"  The Greek term here is "tetelestai." It is a business term, and it refers to a 'done deal,' an iron-clad contract that cannot be broken. The transaction? our redemption. 

I believe that when He cried this word out, it was not a weak, defeatist "Oh finally THAT's over" .... but that it was a shout of victory! And that is the second reason why we call it 'Good' Friday.

It's enough. It's complete. It was the first AND ONLY time, enough for all of forever. Nothing to add to it, nothing could take away from it; the Cross stands alone, empty, uninhabited, unembellished; there is no need for more. We know it was enough (on the First Day) because God raised Him from the dead on the Third Day; death was swallowed up by victory and so, in victory, Jesus cried out, "It is done!" Death just didn't know it yet; its days were numbered and the number was three. 

The love of God could finally be poured out, without measure and with no conditions. The way was jammed open. Before, people didn't have a choice; it was behave or be automatically condemned. And now, every person can choose. Jesus did that. HE DID IT. 

For the first  ...  and only  ...  time in forever.

"That" Woman

Of all the women in the Bible, the one with whom I identify most is Mary - the one from Magdala, the one out of whom, the Bible says, Jesus cast out seven demons. The one who was considered a 'sinner' - some say an adulteress, even a prostitute.

She was "that" woman.

"Husband - are you ogling 'that' woman?"

"No sweetie, go and play over there. You don't want to get close to 'that' woman." 

"Ladies, let's cross to the other side of the road. 'That' woman is walking on this side. We all know what she does." 

Her reputation crucified by her past actions, Mary was used to being ostracized by women and shunned by the religious elite ... and she was used to the rest of the men (single or not) looking at her like she was a piece of prime filet mignon they wished they could afford. Some of them could. Perhaps they did.

She felt used up, dirty, evil, worthless, rejected. She would never be accepted by the religious community; she'd stopped trying. Nobody had ever befriended her for who she was - only what she could do for them. 

Until she met Him. 

He didn't look at her with lust, the way the men of the village did. And he didn't treat her with disdain like the rest of the rabbis did. 

He accepted her. Maybe ... though she wondered how it could possibly be ... maybe He even loved her. Not in an erotic kind of way - but more like what she had always wanted her own father to love her. Tenderly; as if she was a treasure to be protected and cherished.

He liberated her on the inside with that love. In a single moment, and in the months that followed, He released her from years upon years of torment from her inner demons. 

Hope, gratitude, and all the love she had dared not give, sparked within her. 

She abandoned her former lifestyle, and joined the growing band of His followers, which included people from all social levels, including Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, sitting members of the Sanhedrin, the religious elite - who knew? But that was the thing about Jesus, she thought to herself. It didn't matter who you were or what you had done - He loved you. He was always thrilled to see you.

Before long, because she was there all the time, she was in the inner circle, and well-known to the disciples and to the women who followed Him. It was strange - and wonderful - to be treated like a valuable member of a group that was closer than family. She was acutely aware of who and what she had been. She marveled that she was so warmly welcomed by all who surrounded this amazing Rabbi - whom she called 'Rabboni' - 'My Great Master.' It was the highest esteem that her language could afford.

"He who has been forgiven much," Jesus told a curious Pharisee one day, "loves much." 

Mary loved much.

When Jesus was arrested and crucified - words could not express her grief. He was her life, her heart. She could not imagine how she could ever go back to her former life after He had touched hers so profoundly.

She found herself turning to them: to His mother, and to Mary of Bethany, Lazarus' sister. Together, they made plans to honor His body with the traditional embalming spices and linens; He'd been buried so close to sunset, the beginning of the Sabbath, that there wasn't time to do a proper job. 

It was those two women - those two very respectable women - with whom she went to carry out the solemn task. They wondered how they could ever manage to roll the stone back from the door of the tomb when it took several men to do it before. 

Perhaps the soldiers would help. 

But - the soldiers weren't there. And - shock of shocks - the stone WAS rolled away! 

Tremulous, they peeked inside - and saw a man sitting there in a pure white robe. They listened incredulously as he told them that Jesus wasn't there anymore - that He was alive! "Go and tell His disciples." 

The other two Marys - each touched by the miraculous power of God in their lives - were amazed and joyful, and ran as fast as feet could fly to tell the eleven who were left - and in hiding - what they'd seen and heard.

But 'that' Mary couldn't bring herself to believe. Jesus' crucifixion was too fresh. She was convinced that this was some kind of cruel joke, that someone had taken His body and made off with it. She stayed outside the tomb and crumpled to the ground, distraught, as billows of grief overcame her. 

And then He was there. As soon as He spoke her name ... she KNEW it was Him.
 
"Rabboni!" she cried, still on her knees, and clung to His feet, deep sobs of joy and relief pouring out of her as she did. 

His first appearance after His resurrection wasn't to the religious elite. It wasn't even to the disciples, and as a matter of fact, He'd not even seen His Father yet. He stopped in the garden outside the tomb that early morning for one reason and one reason only. 

Because it was her. Because she was 'that' woman. 'That' woman ... who had learned to love ... with all of her heart.