With His Last Breath

The scriptures referred to are Mark 13:24, Luke 24:34, 43, 46 and John 19:26-28, 30.

Just today I was reading a Time.com article by Charlotte Alter about a day in the life of a paramedic in New York. Out of the 11 patients Alanna Badgley got called to take to the hospital that day, 9 had the coronavirus. One was a 45 year old man with difficulty breathing, a high fever and chest pain. His wife also has some symptoms of COVID-19. Badgley says to the man, “I know you're in a lot of pain, okay? But the most important thing is just try to focus on breathing as much as you can.” Of course, the wife can't go with him in the ambulance, nor visit him in the hospital. Knowing that this may be the last time she sees her husband, the wife tells Badgley, “Please don't let him die.” “We won't let him die in our ambulance,” the paramedic tells her. But Badgley doesn't really know that. So she says to the wife, “You breathe, he breathes, everybody focuses on breathing, okay?”

The article points out that every life begins with a breath. And, of course, every life ends after the last breath leaves the body. In between those two breaths, for most of us breathing is something we take for granted. We just do it automatically and only at certain times are we even aware of it. I was aware of it when I threw a pulmonary embolism while in the hospital for my accident. My left lung just shut off. I could breathe but only at half my normal capacity and it was labored and scary. These days I get short of breath after very little exertion and sometimes for no reason at all. It is unpleasant to say the least.

Surprisingly one of the many possible causes of death by crucifixion is pulmonary embolism. Another proposed cause is hypovolemic shock, which happens when the body loses more than a fifth of its blood or fluids, making it impossible for the heart to pump enough blood to the body. Organs start to fail. Considering that Jesus was whipped before being crucified and had nails driven into his wrists and ankles, this is a very likely cause of death. But in either case, it means breathing would be hard for Jesus. It would be rapid and shallow. So the last thing you would think he would do is talk.

Yet in the 4 accounts of his death in the gospels we have 7 quotes of his from the cross. And what is remarkable is what he felt he had to say, considering the struggle it must have been to speak.

The first of the 7 last words from the cross is found in Luke 23:34: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He is talking about the people who have just crucified him. Rather than cursing them, he asks God to forgive them. Jesus had said that we must love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us. (Matthew 5:44) And at a time when any normal person would have a hard time being so charitable, Jesus proves he was as good as his word. And it wasn't a silent prayer. He said it for all to hear, including his executioners. And he felt that was more important than saving his breath.

The men being crucified on either side of him join in mocking this king, hanging on a cross rather than ruling from a throne. But then one changes his tune, perhaps upon hearing how graciously Jesus intercedes for his executioners. Who does that? Jesus of Nazareth is nothing at all like their confederate, the murderous Jesus Barabbas, whose place Christ took. So one of the condemned criminals rebukes the other, saying, “Don't you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus says to him, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)

Why did Jesus say this? Perhaps because the criminal similarly “wasted” his breath, rebuking his confederate and then acknowledging Jesus' kingship and asking for merciful consideration. And Jesus felt that assuring this man of his salvation was more important than saving his breath.

John tells us that Jesus' mother Mary was at the cross. Like the wife in the Time article, for all she knows, this is the last time she will see her son. She must have been a mess. And despite his pain Jesus sees her pain. And he also sees his beloved disciple. I am inclined to believe New Testament scholar Ben Witherington's theory that this unnamed disciple was actually Lazarus. He lives nearby in Bethany, he knows the high priest (John 18:15), and having been resurrected by Jesus, he has no fear of death. (John 11) In addition, he is well off enough to support 2 unmarried sisters, one of whom anointed Jesus' feet with an expensive perfume. (John 12:1-3) Jesus' mother was a poor widow. Her last days need not be spent in poverty. So Jesus looks at her and says, “Woman, here is your son.” He says to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And this disciple takes her to his home. (John 19:26-27) Jesus was able to able to pull his mind out of his excruciating present to think about his mother's future. And he thought this was more important than saving his breath.

The earliest gospel, Mark, says, “Around 3 o' clock, Jesus cried out with a loud voice, 'Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?' which means, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?'” (Mark 15:34) This is a quotation from Psalm 22 which we traditionally read on Good Friday. But it must have fit Jesus' mood at the time. As the pre-existent Word of God, who was with God from the beginning, you wouldn't think he could feel this way. How could God feel abandoned by God? But Jesus is also fully human. In Philippians we are told that “Christ Jesus, who, though existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something to cling to, but emptied himself by taking on the form of a slave, having been made in the likeness of men.” (Philippians 2:5-7) He emptied himself of certain divine prerogatives. So we see that Jesus needs food and sleep. He doesn't know everything because he can be surprised by the centurion's faith (Matthew 8:10) and doesn't know when his second coming will happen. (Mark 13:32) And he feels grief (John 11:35) and sorrow and depression. (Mark 14:34) So yes, at this time when he is in great pain and being mocked and has been deserted by most of his disciples and is watching his mother grieve, he feels like God has abandoned him as well. Just like we do when everything looks hopeless. And it is comforting to know that Jesus knows how I feel at such times. And he felt that expressing it was more important than saving his breath.

John tells us that Jesus next said, “I thirst.” (John 19:28) In Greek it's just one word. Remember he has lost a lot of blood and sweat. His organs are starting to go into shock. Soon they will shut down. A transfusion of IV saline might help but a couple of sips will not. He is helplessly spiraling towards death. But all he knows is that his mouth is dry. So he croaks out, “Thirsty.” He appeals to his executioners to grant him his last wish. It may sound like the least of his problems at this point. But he felt it was more important than saving his breath.

And they respond. They soak a sponge in wine vinegar and put it on a stick and give it to him. And having wet his lips, he says, “It is finished.” (John 19:30) Again one word in Greek. He has almost no breath now. But what does he mean by it? What is finished?

The most obvious answer is his suffering. John indicates he dies shortly after saying this. Creeping numbness may be overtaking him. Still why tell anyone?

He may have meant his life is finished. There is no earthly way he can survive this. But again, this is not news to those around him. They can see he is finished.

He may have meant his mission is finished. Jesus lived to love and serve God and love and serve his fellow human beings. That is finished. And in a rather ignominious way.

The Greek word has another meaning besides “finished,” however. It can mean “paid.” (Matthew 17:24) Could Jesus be saying, “It is paid”? And what would be paid? Think of it this way: if you pushed your child out of the way of a car only to get hit yourself that would be the price you paid for saving their life. If you took a bullet from a school shooter while holding a door open so that your classmates could escape, that would be the price you paid for saving them. If you donated your kidney to someone dying of renal failure, that would be the price you paid to save their life. His death on the cross was the price Jesus paid for saving us from the spiritual damage we have done to ourselves and each other. Our estrangement from God is finished. There is no obstacle, no price left to pay to bridge the gap between our imperfect, unlovely selves and our perfectly loving heavenly Father. It is paid. Jesus said so. And that was more important to him than saving his breath.

After that ringing declaration, Jesus says, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46) Jesus is again quoting a psalm, this time Psalm 31:5. Traditionally this is also a prayer made at the evening offering at the Temple, which was at about the time Jesus died. William Barclay says it was a prayer Jewish children were taught to say at bedtime. The long horrible, painful day is over. Jesus is laying down his body and going to his Father. As John says, he gave up his spirit. Since the Greek word for “spirit” is the same one for “breath,” it can signify he breathed his last.

All that is left is the cleaning up. When I was a nurse, when a patient died, we had to clean the body and cross the arms and tie the wrists and ankles together. We put them in the body bag and put them on a stretcher and covered them in a sheet and took them to the morgue. Something similar was done to Jesus' body though it was much less clinical and much more public.

And it's still not over. Not for Mary his mother. Not for the women who supported and followed him. Not for the male disciples, hiding from the authorities.

And not for Jesus. And unknown to those lost in grief, all that long, silent Sabbath, creation was holding its breath for what was going to happen next.