Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The Word of the Lord which engages us this evening comes from our Gospel lesson (John 19:17–18).

We've heard many sounds this Lent. We've heard the ripping of cloth, we've listened to the sound of soldiers' tramping feet. We heard money jingling in Judas's pocket and the crowing of a rooster that reminded Peter of his sin. We've heard the sounds of tears and an angry mob. Last night, we heard the sound of water pouring into a basin as Jesus washed his disciples' feet and bid them—and us—to do the same for each other.

1
Tonight the sounds culminate in one final, sad sound (this sound, hammer against nail, is made by an assistant in the balcony): the noise of pounding hammers.

2
The soldiers led Jesus out of the city of Jerusalem. They led him past the crying mobs, through the city gates, over the ravines, and to a lonely hill. The residents called it "Golgotha," which means "the place of the skull." The reasoning was simple: it was a place of death and destruction. What better name to give a hill where people died than a symbol of death itself?

Coming to the hill, they took off Jesus' clothes for the last time. They laid him down on the cross and stretched out his arms. A soldier came over with a leather bag filled with heavy spikes. Three will do the job—one for each wrist and one for the feet. Laying a heavy knee on Jesus' forearm, he placed the five-inch spike in the middle of Jesus' wrist. He lifted the heavy hammer and (pound) drove in the nail. The spike went through the flesh and into the wood of the cross. Jesus cried out in agony—the pain was excruciating.

Satisfied with the job, he did the same with the other arm. Pound. Then it was time to nail the feet. Setting one foot on top of the other, he bent the knees up and placed the bottom foot flat against the wood. He placed the spike against the top foot; right about the middle. Again (pound) the hammer came down. Again came the physical pain to the body of our Savior. Jesus' breath began to come in rapid gasps. But the only words to come from his lips were words of grace: "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." (Luke 23: 24)

The pounding stopped. The feet were secure. The soldier tossed the hammer into a pile with his other tools.

The foot of the cross was placed next to the hole that had been dug to hold it. Ropes were tied to the cross, and soldiers began to pull the cross upright. Behind the cross, other soldiers began to lift it up until it dropped into the hole. Some men held the cross steady, and others rushed in with shims to wedge it in position. Jesus was nailed firmly to the cross. The cross was firmly in the ground. Jesus would surely die.

3
But it was not the nails that kept Jesus on the cross. Nor was it the physical pain and agony that Jesus felt that caused his death. There was much more here than heavy spikes pounded into flesh and wood. At any time he chose, Jesus could jump down from the cross, totally healed of all wounds. He was, after all, God himself in the flesh. What were mere pieces of metal and wood to the God who created heaven and earth?

4
Jesus was held on the cross by love. No one could see it, but Jesus' love for his disciples, his love for his parents and his brothers, his love even for the chief priests and the Romans, yes, his love for you and me, held him fast. Jesus was on the cross by his own choice; he was nailed to the cross because he permitted it. Before he went up to Jerusalem, Jesus said, "No one takes [my life] from me, but I lay it down of my own accord" (Jn 10:18). At any time, at any place, Jesus could have stopped the whole passion, but he did not. In the Garden he prayed, "Not my will, but yours be done!" (Luke 22: 42) and he would see it through to the end. Yes, it would cost him his life, but our salvation was worth it to him. Jesus couldn't bear to see his beloved creatures lost in the despair of hell. So he came to give us his own life so that through him, we could be forgiven.

And the agony Jesus felt that day was not merely because of the nails in his hands and feet. Oh, yes, there was a great deal of physical pain and suffering. In the entire history of the world, there has been no method of torture that kills like crucifixion. One dies slowly, from pain and suffocation.

But for Jesus, the suffering wasn't simply physical. There were other kinds of pain as well. There was a emotional pain as the chief priests and Pharisees stood mocking him. They pointed at Jesus and laughed. "Let him come down from the cross, and then we'll believe him! He saved others, but he can't save himself. Let God deliver him if God wants him, for he claimed to be the Son of God!" (paraphrase of Mt 27:42–43). But the greatest agony of all was not physical, nor emotional—it was spiritual. It was the wrath of God. The sun darkened and the sky turned black as a sign of God's judgment. For God poured out his wrath against sinful humanity on his Son. At that moment Jesus was covered with our diseases, our injuries, our sin; more than that, Jesus himself became sin. "He who knew no sin became sin for us," writes St. Paul (2 Cor 5:21). All of the sin, every rebellion against the Holy God that ever existed in the world was laid on Jesus' back.

Jesus took it all in. Each bit of anger. Each fragment of wrath. Every particle of God's hatred of sin. Jesus lived with it all. Jesus found himself alone: forsaken by people and afflicted by God. Jesus was suffering hell—the place where God is not. And in his pain and agony, Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mt 27:46). And then, silence. A peace came over Jesus. For despite the pain and agony from the nails holding him fast, Jesus knew that he had won. The punishment of sin and death had been paid, forgiveness had been won. After taking a drink of wine, Jesus said, "It is finished" (Jn 19:30). In Jesus, God literally died for you. Sin had been paid for; "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" (Rom 8:1).

5
We aren't done with the sound of pounding hammers. As you came in you were each given a small nail and a small piece of paper. I encourage you to write down a few of your sins and hold on to the paper and nail. Then row by row, I'd like you to walk up to our cross here, take a hammer and nail your sins to the cross. If you're worried that someone else will know your sin, if you fear putting it up here publicly, let me give some suggestions. First, if you need to, you can write your confession in some sort of code between you and Jesus, perhaps by writing down only the first letters of each word you are confessing. Second, you can fold up the paper into quarters, so know one else can see it. If you're not very good with a hammer and afraid you might miss and cause pain, well then simply come up and press your paper over an already existing nail that sticks out. Then, after everyone has placed their nails and sins onto the cross, I will tear them all off, take them to the altar and there burn them all in front of you. The smoke of our sins will waft through the sanctuary, but I will place the ashes of our sins where they belong, in the baptismal font where our sins were washed away when we were baptized into Jesus' death and resurrection (Romans 6). I will then again announce forgiveness, that is absolution of our sins.

We have laid our sins on Jesus, and it was for our sakes that he hung there. The same is true now as then: Jesus Was NAILED to the Cross by OUR SINS, and It Is for Our Sakes That He Hung There. Thanks be to God. He has paid the price for all your sins. You are now forgiven and set free.

And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4: 7)

(Note: This sermon and sermon series comes from Rev. James Butler and published in Concordia Pulpit Resources, February, 2004. Modified slightly)