It is finished.
IT was one of the tense moments in history when time in some strange manner feels more like eternity….There is always a touch of that at the hour of death….At the death of the Son of God in a world where nothing is ever finished there was more than a touch of eternity….His cry came from Calvary, but it had echoed in the heart of God as He watched the angel in the Garden close the gate upon the lost parents of a lost race….The door had closed, the children were gone, the years of separation had begun….Now that had ended….He took the last step on the world’s altar stairs, and eternity was before Him….
Here above all there must be good theology….You see, this is atonement….This is the triumphant end of an infinite plan which comes to perfect consummation when at the close of the third hour the Author and Finisher of our faith breaks the silence with the news that His quest has ended and the yearning of His heart has been stilled….Nothing remains to be done….Not for Him and not for us….Only to believe….Every hour now in the passing of time, at the deathbed, in cathedral, in chapel, in metropolis, village, or wilderness, at the ends of the earth, and to the end of time comes the voice which has cried these nineteen hundred years: “It is finished.”….You have nothing to do but believe…
Simply beautiful.
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