It is finished.
These words, the last exhalation of life slipping from Jesus’s lips to signify the end of all things old and dead and bloody and corrupted. What seemed like a humiliating conclusion to a bloody spectacle was in fact the final, victorious fulfillment of a battle He chose to lose.
What “It is finished” means to me.
It means the end of fearful toil, ceaseless striving after perfection, running scared before the wrath of failure.
It means I am free to be me, imperfectly unique, vulnerable and fully human because He finished the perfect obedience for me.
It means I am free to fail, fall down, fall short, feel small because I know I have already received the finished work on my behalf.
It means the end is secure, and I can concern myself with making the most of the present moments.
It means I can fall on Jesus when life falls apart because, like kid movies, I know the ending will be good no matter what the present looks like.
It means that when I have done all I can do, I just lay down in a quiet tomb of my own surrender because God is the one bringing resurrection life to me; I don’t manufacture it on my own.
It means that when all looks dark, God is working the greatest work of all deep under the noisy surface circumstances.
It means that death, all kinds of death, is only the beginning.
It means that spiritual battles are real; Satan will seem to prevail at times, but Jesus is always greater, stronger, more powerful. Sunday is coming.
It means that while we know the plans He has for us are good, we all have to live in Real Time, and it really hurts and takes our breath away and feels like The End, but grace runs down to fill the deepest holes we can find ourselves in.
It means that my own battles with sin will be bloody and fierce and wounding, but because I can live holy in Christ Jesus. Today.
It is finished. For you, for me, for us.