I Am Thirsty (Holy Week Devotional)

“After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), “I am thirsty.””

- John 19:28

The crucifixion of Jesus rightfully has an epic, larger-than-life feel to it. Its climax is marked by sudden darkness, its conclusion by a massive earthquake. The symbols that accompany it, like the crown of thorns or the temple veil tearing in two, speak volumes about its monumental purpose. Scholars talk about how the crucifixion is the turning point in human history, the beginning of a new age. You cannot easily read the accounts of Jesus’s death without being awed by its footprint on history.

But tucked between all the big moments comes a smaller, more intimate one. His body wracked with pain and his spirit waning, Jesus tells the nearby soldiers in a raspy voice, “I am thirsty.” Amid all the thunderous drama of Calvary comes this soft note of human frailty. One cannot help but be reminded that, while the crucifixion is the inauguration the kingdom of God, the ultimate deliverance of humanity’s salvation, it is also the death of a man.

There had been a time when Jesus had taken five loaves of bread and two fish and with those meager offerings fed thousands. There had been a time when he had given sight to the blind and had bid the paralyzed to walk, when he had driven out diseases with nothing but a word. Jesus had accumulated scores of followers by giving strength to those whose bodies ached with all the varied frailties of humanity. But in his final hours, his task was not to overcome weakness, but to feel it.

For all the spiritual agony that the cross imposed on Jesus, a simple, pitiable request for water reminds us that the crucifixion was also a physical ordeal. The Lord was not playacting on the cross; his suffering and death were strikingly real. The debt of sin was expunged not with a metaphorical sacrifice, but with flesh and blood.

Matters of faith have a way of taking on an ethereal quality, with all the talk of sin and salvation and eternity. It is easy to lose your head in the clouds when you think about all that the cross means. May Jesus’s hoarse request for something to drink keep your faith grounded, reminding you that, for all its eternal consequences, faith is exercised in the drudgery and frailty of everyday life.