IT IS FINISHED.
For of a man from Galilee, it would have sounded like “Mashalam”. Perhaps he had heard Joseph speak it, rubbing oil over the wood of a masterpiece, young Jesus sweeping the shavings from the floor. From the deepest part of his wounded body, “Mashalam” may have been shouted from the cross. Or it may have been whispered through quivering lips, in the Aramaic language of his youth. It means “it is submitted, or completed.” If his life were a doctoral dissertation, Jesus would pass with flying colors. Literally. A Ph.D in Restoration. The only one with authority to Atone. His raw red flesh turning to deep velvet red Doctoral Robes. Submitted and complete.
For one who preached in the synagogues and temple, the Hebrew “Shalem” would have been the word. Similar to “shalom” it indicates a restoration to perfection, a completion or return to wholeness.
And for one who knew the law, who fully understood the language of the courts, it would have been “Tetelestai”. Teleo, the Greek mother-word, meaning to bring to an end, to accomplish or to complete a transaction. With the transfer of titles Greeks would have stamped the same word on documents, representing that a debt is paid in full. It signifies a final transaction, with nothing more to be paid.
In whatever language our Savior chose to speak them, these three final words free every living soul from the bonds of death. Until you lose someone you deeply love, these words might not be so powerful. But the bodies of some of the people I cherish most in this world lie still in the earth. Their ashes sit heavy in urns, or are scattered in ungatherable pieces. The last words spoken by the mortal Christ are like the raised seal of a divine notary, witnessing that the transaction is complete, whatever debt we may have wittingly or unwittingly incurred is paid, and we are free to carry forward with those we love. It’s like the world tells me my trip is over while the train moves on, then someone steps up to pay for my ticket. You can keep going, He says. I’ve got you covered.
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| Sometimes, in desperation I say: "Jesus, take the wheel." More often He says: "How bout you drive, I trust you can do it. If not, I've got your back." He's exactly who I want for my back-seat-driver. |
IT IS FINISHED.
Ironic, isn’t it, these final words… seeming to close the book of life… when what they do is free us to live lives that know no end.
