The Adventure Link
CSI: Jerusalem
Phenomena Investigated
This is a bonus Easter edition of the Adventure Link!
Scripture records a number of supernatural phenomena that occurred while Jesus hung on the cross. Those events constituted God’s own supernatural commentary on the cross. They are further proof of the extraordinary importance of what was occurring that day just outside Jerusalem.
The routes to the city that day were jammed with pilgrims coming and going as they prepared to celebrate Passover. Few if any of them realized the vital truth that God’s true Paschal Lamb was dying that very day to provide forgiveness for all the sins of all the saints of all time. It was the very focal point of redemptive history, and yet as far as Jerusalem was concerned on that day, relatively few were taking notice. And few who witnessed the murder of Jesus had any idea of what was really taking place.
But then suddenly all nature seemed to stop and pay attention.
The Sun Darkened
The first of the miraculous signs that accompanied Jesus’ death was the darkening of the sky. Matthew writes, “Now from the sixth hour until the ninth hour there was darkness over all the land” (Matthew 27:45). Matthew was counting hours in accord with the Jewish system, so the sixth hour would have been noon. At the moment the noon sun should have been brightest in the sky, a darkness fell over all the land, and remained for three hours.
This was probably not a total blackness, but rather a severe darkening of the normal daylight intensity of the sun. “Over all the land” is an expression that might refer to the land of Israel, or it could refer to the whole world. I’m inclined to think that the sun itself was dimmed, so that the darkness would have been universal, and not limited to the local area surrounding Jerusalem.
Throughout Scripture, darkness is connected with judgment, and supernatural darkness of this type signifies cataclysmic doom (Isaiah 5:30; Joel 2:2; Amos 5:20; Zephaniah 1:14–15). Various interpreters have explained this darkness several ways. Some have suggested God sent it as a veil to cover the sufferings and nakedness of His Son, as an act of mercy toward Christ. Others have suggested it signified His displeasure with those who put Christ to death. Scripture does not say why the darkness; it only reports it as a fact. The darkness clearly does seem to signify divine judgment, and coming as it did during the time when Christ’s suffering was most intense, in the three hours before He cried out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46)—it may well signify the Father’s judgment falling on Christ as He bore in His person our guilt.
In any case, the darkness is certainly an appropriate reminder that the cross was a place of judgment, and in those awful hours of darkness, Jesus was facing the judgment that was ours.
The Veil Torn
At the moment of Christ’s death, a series of remarkable miracles occurred. Matthew writes, “Then, behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom” (v. 51).
The veil was a heavy curtain that blocked the entrance to the Holy of Holies in the Jerusalem temple, the place where the Ark of the Covenant was kept, symbolizing the sacred presence of God. Josephus described the veil as ornately decorated, made of blue woven fabric.
Only one person ever traversed the veil, and that was the high priest. He entered the Holy of Holies only once a year, on the Day of Atonement, with the blood of a sacrifice. The veil was of vital symbolic importance, signifying “that the way into the Holiest of All was not yet made manifest” (Hebrews 9:8). In other words, it was a constant reminder that sin renders humanity unfit for the presence of God. The tearing of the curtain at the moment of Jesus’ death dramatically symbolized that His sacrifice was a sufficient atonement for sins forever, and the way into the Holy of Holies was now open. In effect, the entire Levitical system of rituals, animal sacrifices—even the priesthood itself—were done away in the moment of His death. The tearing of the high curtain from top to bottom signified that it was God Himself who removed the barrier.
At the moment the tearing of the veil occurred, the temple was packed with worshipers who were there for the killing of their Passover lambs. By God’s design, it was in the very hour that those thousands of lambs were being slain that the true Passover Lamb died. He was the real Lamb whom all the others merely symbolized. In fact, He perfectly fulfilled all the symbolism of the worship in the temple. From that day on, all the temple ceremonies lost their significance, because what they were meant to foreshadow had finally arrived. Within forty years, the temple itself would be completely destroyed when Titus sacked Jerusalem. But the true end of the Old Testament sacrificial system did not occur with the destruction of the temple in a.d. 70. It ended here at the moment of Jesus’ death, when God sovereignly declared Christ’s death a sufficient sacrifice for sins forever, by supernaturally splitting the temple veil from top to bottom and opening the way into His presence.
The Earth Shaken
Another miracle also occurred at the exact moment of Christ’s death. “And the earth quaked, and the rocks were split” (Matthew 27:51). An earthquake powerful enough to split rocks would be a significant tremor. (The crowd in the temple probably assumed the earthquake was the cause of the tearing of the veil.) Such a powerful quake would be a frightening experience for everyone in the region of Judea. Although earthquakes were a fairly common phenomenon, an earthquake with enough force to split rocks would have instantly brought the entire city of Jerusalem to a halt for several minutes.
The accompanying earthquake, coming at the culminating moment of Christ’s atoning work, was a kind of divine punctuation mark, perhaps signifying God’s anger at the fact that sin had cost His Son so much.
The Dead Raised
At that very same moment when Christ died, yet another miracle occurred: “The graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised; and coming out of the graves after His resurrection, they went into the holy city and appeared to many” (Matthew 27:52–53).
Many of the tombs in and around Jerusalem to this day are hollow stone sepulchers, resting at ground level or just above. The earthquake was evidently powerful enough to split sepulchers like these. That was not the miracle; that might have occurred in any earthquake. The great miracle is that those who emerged from the broken sepulchers were raised from the dead.
Of all the Gospel writers, only Matthew mentions this event. Some have cited this as a reason to discount Matthew’s veracity, suggesting that if such an event occurred, it would have certainly been noteworthy enough to catch the attention of all Jerusalem. But there’s no reason to think this miracle was designed to capture people’s attention. It seems to have been a remarkably quiet miracle, despite its spectacular nature.
Although “many … saints who had fallen asleep” were raised, not all were. These were select representatives of the multitude of saints buried in and around Jerusalem. The number raised is not specified, but the term “many” in this case could refer to as few as a dozen—or even fewer. (That would still be “many,” given the fact that what Matthew is describing is people who were released from stone sarcophagi and came alive!) Still, despite the spectacular nature of the miracle itself, this seems to have been a fairly low-key event.
Notice, in fact, that those who rose from the dead did not appear in Jerusalem until after Jesus’ resurrection. (The proper phrasing and punctuation of the verse is probably best reflected in the niv translation: “They came out of the tombs, and after Jesus’ resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many people.”)
Where these resurrected saints were in the days after they were loosed from the grave and before they appeared in Jerusalem is not specified. But the fact that they waited until after Christ’s resurrection to appear to anyone reminds us that He is the firstfruits of those risen from the dead (1 Corinthians 15:20).
These risen saints most likely came forth from the dead in glorified bodies already fit for heaven (rather than being restored to life in unglorified mortal bodies, as Lazarus had been). They “appeared to many” (Matthew 27:53). Again, how many is not specified, but evidently there were enough eyewitnesses to verify the miracle. When Matthew wrote his Gospel, some of the eyewitnesses would have still been alive. Matthew doesn’t say what became of the risen saints, but they undoubtedly ascended to glory not long after Jesus’ resurrection.
Their appearance proved that Christ had conquered death, not merely for Himself, but for all the saints. One day “all who are in the graves will hear His voice and come forth” (John 5:28–29, emphasis added). This miraculous event prefigured that final great resurrection.
The Centurion Saved
But perhaps the most important miracle that occurred at the moment of Jesus’ death was the conversion of the centurion charged with overseeing the crucifixion. As Christ’s atoning work was brought to completion, its dramatic saving power was already at work in the lives of those who were physically closest to Him. Matthew 27:54 says, “So when the centurion and those with him, who were guarding Jesus, saw the earthquake and the things that had happened, they feared greatly, saying, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!’ ”
A Roman centurion was the commander of a hundred-man division (or a “century”)—the basic building block of a Roman legion. There were about twenty-five legions in the entire Roman army worldwide. Each legion comprised six thousand men, divided into ten cohorts of six hundred men each. Each cohort had three maniples, and each maniple was divided into two centuries. Each century was commanded by a centurion. The centurions were usually career officers, hardened men of war.
Because this particular officer was with those guarding Jesus, it appears he is the very one who had been given charge of overseeing and carrying out the crucifixion of Christ—and probably the crucifixions of the two thieves as well. He and his men were close eyewitnesses to everything that had happened since Jesus was taken to the Praetorium. They had personally kept Him under guard from that point on. (It is even possible that the centurion and some of the men with him were also the same soldiers who arrested Jesus the night before. If so, they had been eyewitnesses from the very beginning of the entire ordeal.) They had seen how Jesus held His silence while His enemies hurled accusations at Him. These same soldiers had strapped him to a post for the scourging, and watched while He suffered even that horrific beating with quiet grace and majesty. They themselves had mercilessly taunted Him, dressing Him in a faded soldier’s tunic, pretending it was a royal robe. They had battered His head with a reed they gave Him as a mock scepter. These very same soldiers had also woven a crown of cruel thorns and mashed it into the skin of His scalp. They had spat on Him and taunted Him and mistreated Him in every conceivable fashion—and they had seen Him endure all those tortures without cursing or threatening any of His tormentors.
In all likelihood, the soldiers heard with their own ears when Pilate repeatedly declared Jesus’ innocence. They knew very well that He was guilty of no crime that made Him a threat to Rome’s interests. They must have been utterly amazed from the very beginning about how different He was from the typical criminal who was crucified. At first, they probably were inclined to write Him off as a madman. But by now they could see that He was not insane. He fit no category they had ever seen in the hundreds of crucifixions they had probably superintended.
Until now, the uniqueness of Christ had made no apparent impact whatsoever on these soldiers. They were hardened men, and Jesus’ passivity made no difference in the way they treated Him. His obvious innocence had not gained any sympathy from them. They had showed Him no mercy. They were professional soldiers, trained to follow orders. And so they had dutifully nailed Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross. They had set the cross upright and dropped it into the hole dug for it. They had cast lots for Jesus’ garments. And then they had sat down to watch Him die.
But Christ’s death was unlike any crucifixion they had ever witnessed. They heard Him pray for His killers. They saw the noble way He suffered. They heard when He cried out to His Father. They experienced three full hours of supernatural darkness. And when that darkness was followed by an earthquake at the very moment of Christ’s death, the soldiers could no longer ignore the fact that Christ was indeed the Son of God.
Mark suggests that there was something about the way Jesus cried out that struck the centurion as supernatural—perhaps the powerful volume of His cry, coming from someone in such a weakened condition. Mark writes, “When the centurion, who stood opposite Him, saw that He cried out like this and breathed His last, he said, ‘Truly this Man was the Son of God!’ ” (Mark 15:39).
Matthew indicates that it was also the earthquake, coming at the exact moment of Jesus’ final outcry, that finally convinced the centurion and his soldiers that Jesus was the Son of God: “When [they] saw the earthquake and the things that had happened, they feared greatly” (Matthew 27:54).
Notice that Matthew indicates all the soldiers had the same reaction. When the earthquake occurred they “feared greatly”—using a Greek word combination that speaks of extreme alarm. It’s exactly the same expression Matthew used to recount how the three disciples reacted on the Mount of Transfiguration when Christ’s glory was unveiled (17:6). This kind of fear was a typical reaction of people who suddenly realized the truth about who Jesus is (Mark 4:41; 5:33).
When the soldiers around the cross heard Jesus’ exclamation, saw Him die, and then immediately felt the earthquake, it suddenly became all too clear to them that they had crucified the Son of God. They were stricken with terror. It wasn’t merely the earthquake that they were afraid of. Rather they were terrified by the sudden realization that Jesus was innocent—and not merely innocent, but He was also precisely who He claimed to be. They had killed the Son of God. The centurion remembered the indictment of the Sanhedrin (“He made Himself the Son of God”—John 19:7), and having witnessed Jesus’ death up close from beginning to end, he rendered his own verdict on the matter: “Truly this was the Son of God!”
The words were evidently a true expression of faith. Luke says, “He glorified God, saying, ‘Certainly this was a righteous Man!’ ” (Luke 23:47). So the centurion and his soldiers with him were evidently the very first converts to Christ after His crucifixion, coming to faith at precisely the moment He expired.
The adventure and investigation continues...
