Luke 23:44-49 (NIV) It was now about the sixth hour, and darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” When he had said this, he breathed his last.
The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, “Surely this was a righteous man.” When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. But all those who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
After assuring the thief next to Him of a future in paradise, Jesus still had three long hours to hang on the cross. And during those final three hours, between noon and three p.m., the sky went dark. This was not an eclipse. The Passover occurred at the time of the full moon every year – precisely the wrong time for a solar eclipse. And no solar eclipse would make it dark for three hours. Even though many have tried to come up with some kind of natural explanation for this deep mid-day darkness, the simplest explanation is the best: the darkness was a sign from God that something terrible was happening.
There was little talking from those on the crosses as breathing became harder and harder. And the crowd of onlookers and jeerers grew more and more quiet as the darkness continued and grew positively oppressive. There was a sense of awe and dread that grew more and more profound the longer it went on, and several people left to go check on their families in town.
Finally, with a great effort, Jesus pushed Himself up on His nail-pierced ankles and shouted a line from Psalm 31: “Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.” Then He sank back down, and with a deep sigh His head dropped down in death.
At that moment, the earth shook with a strong earthquake that roiled the land so strongly that it rolled the stones away from the mouths of many of the tombs in the area (Matthew 27:51-52). In the temple, the huge curtain that separated the holy place from the holy of holies was torn in half from top to bottom. This curtain was woven in layers, nearly four inches thick, and was untearable by any human means. This was another sign from God, showing that the veil of separation between Himself and sinful mankind had been taken out of the way. And, at the same moment, the darkness suddenly disappeared.
Even though the people at the cross didn’t know about the temple curtain being torn in two, the cry of Jesus committing His spirit into God’s hands, the great earthquake at the moment His head sagged down in death, and the blinding return of the daylight, put a deep fear into the hearts of the soldiers and all of those who had come to mock Him. The centurion’s statement that surely Jesus had been a righteous man, innocent of the charges that had put Him on the cross echoed in the minds and hearts of many of those near the cross, making them look at each other, then hang their heads in shame and strike their chests as they left the site, thinking, “What have we done!?”
But those same signs were a vindication for all of those who knew Jesus and who were watching these events take place from the far side of the crowd. They knew that Jesus was innocent. But that vindication brought only a brief moment of comfort as the truth hit even more forcefully: Jesus, the one whom they had trusted and in whom they had put all of their hope, was dead.
Father, we all go through times when it feels like the darkness has settled in so hard that it will never leave. But into those moments, if we trust and do not lose hope, You can take the opportunity to shine brilliant light into our hearts that will lead us away from the smothering darkness of death into the warmth and light of eternal life in Your presence. Help us to never lose hope, even when our path leads through the darkest valley (Psalm 23:4), but to hold tightly to You until we reach the other side. Amen.