“Nothing…”

Today is Good Friday, which many Christians for many years have set aside to remember the death of Jesus on the cross for us.

We know that this is not the only time in the year that we do this. Every week, in some form or another, we remember together that Christ died for us, and hopefully Sunday is not the only time you’re meditating on these truths.

But on Good Friday, we seize the opportunity to focus in a special way on the events of that Friday so many years ago. We’ve heard the story read to us earlier. We remember what happened. And I want to lead us for a few minutes to meditate together on what those events accomplished.

As I’ve thought about this message, my mind has gone to 1 Peter, and the number of wonderful passages where Peter has unpacked for us the meaning of Christ’s death for us on the cross.

1 Peter 1:10-12 tells us that, “Concerning this salvation, the prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and inquired carefully, inquiring what person or time the Spirit of Christ in them was indicating when he predicted the sufferings of Christ and the subsequent glories” (1 Peter 1:10–11).

The sufferings of Christ, and the glories that would follow, are at the core of the prophets’ message. This is what the Hebrew Scriptures all point to.

A few verses down, we’re told that we “were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Peter 1:18–19).

The blood that Jesus shed on the cross that day, representative of His very life, bought us—ransomed us—from the endless cycle of futility that humans pass on from one generation to the next.

In chapter 2 we read that “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls” (1 Peter 2:24–25).

The death of Jesus has transformed not just our eternal destiny, but our very lives today, causing us to live in a different way because of our harmony with Him.

And in 3:18 we read that “Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God” (1 Peter 3:18). That day that Jesus hung suffocating on the cross, He was accomplishing reconciliation between us and God, once and for all.

These truths are weighty and wonderful. But if we’re honest, they don’t always strike our souls with the freshness and power that they should. We don’t always stand in awe of the cross the way that we know we should, or wish we could.

So this week, my mind has been going to the question: What if Good Friday, the first Good Friday, never happened? What if Jesus had lost His nerve in the Garden of Gethsemane? What if He had called in the 12 legions of angels to rescue Him? What if He didn’t go through with it?

What would be different?

And the answer is “everything.”

Without the sufferings of Christ, there would be no glories to follow, and there would be nothing for the prophets to prophesy about. There would be little to nothing in our Bibles, and certainly nothing of hope.

Without Jesus ransoming us with His blood, we would still be in chains to the futile ways inherited from our forefathers. We’d have no motivation or ability to do anything but repeat the foolish and painful sins carried out from one generation to the next.

If Jesus didn’t bear our sins in His body on the tree, we’d still be bearing them. We’d still be alive to sin and dead to righteousness. There would be no wounds to heal us. We’d still be mortally injured by our own iniquities.

Without the Good Shepherd laying down His life to bring us home, we’d still be still straying like sheep, far away from the shepherd and overseer of our souls, being preyed upon by our enemies with nobody to defend.

If Christ did not suffer for our sins, we’d have nobody to bring us to God. We’d still be far away from the source of joy and life in our Heavenly Father.

If Christ did not suffer for our sins, we would have no hope. We’d be consigned to stumbling through this life, “foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another” (Titus 3:3).

No hope in this life, and nothing to look forward to but a black and agonizing eternity receiving from God the wrath that we’ve stored up for ourselves one selfish sin at a time.

Think about this in the context of a song that many of us know well, a song that we’re going to sing later on this morning. Think about the song “Nothing But the Blood of Jesus,” with “the blood of Jesus” removed from these words.

What can wash away my sin? Nothing.
What can make me whole again? Nothing.
For my pardon this I see: nothing.
For my cleansing this my plea: nothing.
Nothing can for sin atone.
Naught of good that I have done.
This is all my hope and peace: nothing.
This is all my righteousness: nothing.
Oh, that there was a flow that could wash me white as snow!
No fount I know. Nothing.

That is life without Good Friday.

And what we need to remember is that there was nothing in our power we could do to make life anything other than this. There was nothing we could have done to prompt Jesus to do what He did. There was no value or virtue that made us worth it. We were objects of wrath. If Jesus gave us what we deserve it would have been to put us on the cross instead of Him.

Who could have hoped to ascend into heaven and plead our case before God? Who could have dreamed of a way out of the downward spiral? Nobody. There was literally nothing we could have done to change our circumstances one bit.

Which is why we praise Jesus this morning. This is why we want to be stunned again at the generosity of a saviour who came for us when hope was nonexistent. This is why we are in awe of a saviour who didn’t leave His ministry unfinished, who sweat it out, literally, in Gethsemane. Who stood silent as he let Himself be slandered and mocked.

Who laid down his life for us, willingly, freely. Nobody took His life from Him. Nobody forced Him to do anything. He let Himself be whipped. He picked up that cross until He could carry it no longer. He willingly stretched out His wrists and feet to the cold sharpness of the nails. He received the cup of wrath from His father’s hand and drank it to the dregs.

He did it. He really, really laid down His life to ransom you, buying you for Himself. He really, really bore your sins in His body, effectively redeeming you from sin forever, healing you from your sin with His own wounds. He really, really suffered to effectively bring you to God once and for all.

And so we must worship in wonder. How can we do anything else? “Hallelujah, what a saviour!”

Maybe you’re here and you don’t know that any of this is true of you. It could be, right now. “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

For those of us who do know Christ, how can we forget how much of the world still lives not knowing what we know? Think of the hopeless bleakness I’ve described this morning. That’s where so many of your neighbours and coworkers and even family members live. What can wash away their sin? As far as they know, nothing.

And this is where billions of people around our world still live today. What can make them whole again? What can bring them peace with God? As far as they know, nothing. And for so many of them, they don’t even have a neighbour or a co-worker or a family member who does know.

You might be thinking, “Chris, it’s Good Friday; why are you starting to talk about missions?” And I can’t help it. How can we keep Jesus to ourselves? How can we enjoy Him without a longing that others might know as well?

I’m not suggesting we shouldn’t enjoy Him this morning. In fact, it’s necessary that we do that. It’s necessary that we stand in awe of our saviour together. That, as we eat and drink together to remember and proclaim His death until He comes.

And as we do that, let’s ask the Lord to help our worship of Jesus spill over into warm-hearted witness to others of what He’s done for us.