Calvary
649
Suddenly the gloom lifted from the cross, and in clear, trumpetlike
tones, that seemed to resound throughout creation, Jesus cried, “It
is finished.” “Father, into Thy hands I commend My spirit.” A light
encircled the cross, and the face of the Saviour shone with a glory like
the sun. He then bowed His head upon His breast, and died.
Amid the awful darkness, apparently forsaken of God, Christ had
drained the last dregs in the cup of human woe. In those dreadful
hours He had relied upon the evidence of His Father’s acceptance
heretofore given Him. He was acquainted with the character of His
Father; He understood His justice, His mercy, and His great love. By
faith He rested in Him whom it had ever been His joy to obey. And as
in submission He committed Himself to God, the sense of the loss of
His Father’s favor was withdrawn. By faith, Christ was victor.
Never before had the earth witnessed such a scene. The multitude
stood paralyzed, and with bated breath gazed upon the Saviour. Again
darkness settled upon the earth, and a hoarse rumbling, like heavy
thunder, was heard. There was a violent earthquake. The people were
shaken together in heaps. The wildest confusion and consternation
ensued. In the surrounding mountains, rocks were rent asunder, and
went crashing down into the plains. Sepulchers were broken open, and
the dead were cast out of their tombs. Creation seemed to be shivering
to atoms. Priests, rulers, soldiers, executioners, and people, mute with
terror, lay prostrate upon the ground.
When the loud cry, “It is finished,” came from the lips of Christ,
the priests were officiating in the temple. It was the hour of the evening
sacrifice. The lamb representing Christ had been brought to be slain.
Clothed in his significant and beautiful dress, the priest stood with
lifted knife, as did Abraham when he was about to slay his son. With
intense interest the people were looking on. But the earth trembles
and quakes; for the Lord Himself draws near. With a rending noise
[757]
the inner veil of the temple is torn from top to bottom by an unseen
hand, throwing open to the gaze of the multitude a place once filled
with the presence of God. In this place the Shekinah had dwelt. Here
God had manifested His glory above the mercy seat. No one but the
high priest ever lifted the veil separating this apartment from the rest
of the temple. He entered in once a year to make an atonement for the
sins of the people. But lo, this veil is rent in twain. The most holy
place of the earthly sanctuary is no longer sacred.