Adapted from a message included in the Concordia Publishing House Lenten Series Witnesses to Christ

John, the Gospel Writer

Text: John 19:25-37

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

          John 19:34 states, “One of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water.” Blood. It’s a major theme in John’s Gospel. Already in John 1, the evangelist writes, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” The Lamb, Jesus, will shed His blood. It’s one of the central ideas in the Fourth Gospel, “Behold, the Lamb of God!” John the Baptist shouts when he sees Jesus. In John 6, Jesus says, “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood has eternal life.” In John’s Gospel, blood serves one purpose: to wash away sin.

Sin is always at the door. That’s because we never measure up. We never do enough. We all fall short of the glory of God. But just because sin keeps knocking at the door, it doesn’t mean we have to let him in.

And yet we do! We let him in! And when we do, sin trashes every room in our house. Then, after destroying our home, sin wants to stay with us for the rest of our lives. And what do we say? “Sure! Great idea, sin! Come on in!” It just doesn’t make sense. And so, we spend the rest of our lives trying to get rid of sin and all of its ugly consequences.

We have a lot of ways we try to kick sin out of our house. Project the sin onto someone else. Blame someone. Blame anyone. Blame your husband. Blame your wife. Blame your parents. Blame your teachers. And while you’re at it, blame the government and the system.

Rationalization is another way we try to conquer sin. “What I did is no big deal!” “It didn’t really hurt anybody.” “It’s just this once. Besides, no one will ever know.”

Or we could try comparison. “If you think I’m bad, you should see my boss!” “At least I’m not as bad as my sister!” “Remember what he did?” I’m a saint compared to that sinner!”

Or we could just repress it. Stuff it down. Stuff it way down. Live in denial. “I know it was wrong, but I’m just not going to think about it!”

Another way to try to rid ourselves of sin is through distraction. Rush around from one event to the next so that at night you collapse. Run yourself ragged so that when you hit the pillow, sin doesn’t haunt your heart and fill up your mind.

Another strategy is evasion. Pop a pill, have a drink. Get addicted to something – anything – TV, sports, money. Anything at all to evade the all-consuming consequences of sin!

Do you see the problem with all of this? It doesn’t work! None of this works! We wake up the next day, and sin is still there, trashing our house, making life absolutely miserable.

There’s only one solution to sin. Stand with John under Christ’s cross. “He who saw it has borne witness—his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth—that you also may believe.” John was there, at the cross. He saw it all happen. John gives his testimony. And his testimony is true. What would that be? Christ’s blood alone washes away sin. All sin. Everyone’s sin. Yours. Mine. His. Hers. Theirs. For everyone who believes, all sin is forgiven!

Sin is forgiven—that’s free for us. Good Friday, though, calls us to remember what it cost Jesus. His crucifixion at Golgotha was an act of utter brutality. Jesus is first stripped before Herod’s soldiers. He’s stripped again at the command of Pilate. And then He’s stripped once more at the cross when the soldiers divide His garments by casting lots. That’s not to mention the flogging, the spitting and the mocking, the spikes driven through His hands and feet.

Our depictions of Jesus on the cross are often too tame. This was no slow painless march toward death. Christ’s arms were stretched six inches upward so His shoulders were dislocated. The stress of His diaphragm forced His chest into an inhaling position. In order to exhale, Christ had to push up, using His feet to relieve the pressure, and temporarily exhale. When He did this, the nail would tear through His feet. As Jesus slowed down His breathing, He’d begin to have an irregular heartbeat. With His heart beating erratically, Jesus would have known that death was near and He eventually died of cardiac arrest.

“One of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water. He who saw it has borne witness—his testimony is true, and he knows that he is telling the truth—that you also may believe.” Peter Paul Rubens, a famous artist in the seventeenth century, depicts these events in John’s Gospel. Rubens’s masterpiece is called The Descent from the Cross.

In the background of the painting, billows of black clouds linger after the three hours of darkness. In the foreground is Jesus. Rubens paints a sweeping diagonal line made by Christ’s shining white shroud. Christ’s head dangles to one side, and His body hangs limp.

In the left corner of the painting is Mary, Christ’s mother, who appears in blue. Mary is reaching up to her Son. Her grieving face is lit by the whiteness of the cloth and reflects her broken heart. Mary’s skin matches the ashen color of Christ’s, and we remember Simeon’s prophecy that a sword would pierce her heart. We can’t possibly imagine Mary’s profound loss and grief.

Another woman supports Christ’s foot as it rests on her shoulder. The foot is an important clue to her identity. It’s Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus. As a disciple, she once sat at Jesus’ feet. Shortly before His death, she took expensive perfume and anointed Christ’s feet.

Next to her is another woman. The tears help us identify her. It’s Mary Magdalene. She’s crushed. So much so that on Easter morning she runs frantically, searching for Jesus. We’ll hear more about that at the Easter sunrise service.

We know that the man standing on the ladder to the left is Joseph of Arimathea. His rich clothing reminds us that Joseph had enough money to buy burial spices, and he had a new tomb ready to lay Jesus in. Joseph is looking at the man in black. It’s Nicodemus, painted in black, because, as you recall, Nicodemus came to Jesus at night.

The person under Nicodemus is dressed in red. It’s John, the Gospel writer. The beloved disciple. It’s John, the son of Zebedee and the brother of James. His eyes are fixed on Mary, Jesus’ mother. From the cross, Jesus said to Mary and John. “Woman, behold, your son!
. . . Behold, your mother!.” John is already caring for Mary in her deep sorrow.

But why is John dressed in red? That’s the driving question the artist wants us to ask. Why is John dressed in red? Christ’s blood drips from His head, His hands, and His side. Christ’s blood continues downward until it pours directly onto John.

So, John is dressed in red because John is covered in blood. Washed in Christ’s blood! And John tells us that same blood is for you! This is John’s testimony, and John’s testimony is true!

At the bottom-right corner of the painting is a piece of paper with the Latin inscription INRI with a rock on top of it. These letters stand for Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum—Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews. Next to the inscription and rock lies an offering plate that holds the crown of thorns and more blood. Blood is in the offering plate. Why? It’s Christ’s offering. It’s Christ’s gift, for you.

The painting invites us to stand at the cross, like John, because God invites us to stand at the cross. To hold on to Jesus, like John. To allow the Savior’s blood to wash us, like John. Why? Because Christ’s blood is the only solution for all of our sin.

So, we stand at the foot of the cross, like John, clothed in red, forever forgiven! Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.