Good Friday Passion Vespers

April 3, 2026

St. Luke 23:34

“Who is responsible for this?!”

Perhaps you’ve heard your parents say words like these. They discover the mess you made, the thing you broke, the sister you hurt.

Who is responsible for this?

The simpler form would be, “Who did this?”

Why do they ask?

Often it’s to punish.

Identify the culprit. Teach him a lesson.

“Who is responsible for this?!”

Your parents may actually be looking for a confession.

Punishment isn’t the goal, but accountability.

Do you have the courage to own your sin?

With such a query God sought our first father.

“Where are you?”

“Who told you you were naked?”

“Have you eaten from the tree I told you to avoid?”

All are variations on the theme: “Who is responsible for this?”

With the same query God sought out Cain.

“Where is Abel your brother?”

The LORD does not seek information. He knows.

What does He seek?

Confession. Contrition. Repentance.

“How should I know? Am I my brother’s keeper?”

Like father, like son.

Adam hides. Cain deceives. And the field is dyed red with Abel’s fresh blood.

Like father, like son. All the way down to us.

Who will take responsibility?

We demand it from others. If someone does us wrong, we want them to pay.

With the measure you use, Jesus says, it will be measured back to you.

Who will take responsibility?

Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with [Jesus]. And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

For whom does Jesus pray? Who deserves to be forgiven?

Is it the criminals?

The soldiers piercing His hands and feet?

Does He pray for the priests? The Pharisees? Pilate? Barabbas?

Have any of them taken responsibility?

For whom does Jesus pray? Who deserves to be forgiven?

None deserve to be forgiven.

This includes you.

For whom, then, does Jesus pray?

For all.

Jesus prays for the criminals. The soldiers. The priests. The Pharisees.

He prays for Pilate. For Barabbas.

He prays for Peter who denied Him.

He prays for Mark, who ran away.

Jesus prays for their absolution. Their forgiveness. Their restoration. For God desires all men to be saved, and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

This is the primary meaning of Jesus’ death.

To be sure, Jesus sets an example, that it is good to sacrifice for others, even to die for others.

To be sure, Jesus is obedient, obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.

And to be sure, Jesus is the victor, the conqueror of death.

But right here, these words, they stand at the center of the work of Jesus, and the transformation of the world: “Father, forgive them.”

When I was a student, I believed the most important work I would do as a pastor would be to have the right answers to all the hard questions.

How can there be three persons in one God?

How could God make the world from nothing?

Are there six days of creation?

How can the water of baptism do such great things?

Can Jesus really be present in bread and wine?

What happens to the soul when we die?

What is the right form of the church?

All are interesting questions. But the hardest question never occurred to me in the isolation of a quasi-monastic cell. How do you forgive someone? Someone who hurts you? Someone who betrays you? Someone who steals from you?

“They don’t deserve it!”

That might be true.

But neither do you. Neither do I.

“Father, forgive them.”

Those words are not a wish. It’s not letting bygones be bygones.

Those words are attached to the cross. Those words are why He is attached to the cross.

Jesus, the righteous One, becomes the sinner.

The Father looks at the world. He sees the blood of forbidden fruit dripping from Adam’s jaw. He sees the blood of Seth’s cranium gushing into the dirt.

“Who did this?” “Who will take responsibility?”

And Jesus steps forth and says, “I will. I will take responsibility. Punish Me, and let these others go.”

With these words, you are absolved.

Your sins are gone.

And so are your sister’s sins, your wife’s, your friend’s. Perhaps even your pastor’s.

“Father, forgive them.”

Those words release you from a lifetime of bondage.

And they release you also from the grudges you are carrying around.

Without these words, they will drag you down.

Let them go.

Today, on the Friday called Good, they are crucified. Gone. Forgiven.

+INJ+