“And it was about the sixth hour, and there was a darkness over all the earth until the ninth hour. And the sun was darkened, and the veil of the temple was rent in the midst,” (Luke 23:44-45). 

The enemies of Christ, those scribes and pharisees that wanted him silenced, were ever taunting him to give them a “sign from heaven” – some miraculous indication that he was truly the Son of God (Matt. 12:38, Luke 11:29). Of course, as Luke describes them, this was an “evil generation,” for if they had truly wanted to see and believe, Jesus gave them more signs and miracles in his brief earthly ministry than could be recorded by man (John 21:25).

But even aside from his many miracles, what better “sign from heaven” could they ask for than his creation, the heavens themselves? (Ps. 19:1). God himself said, “Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs…” And the apostle John in the first chapter of his gospel makes it plain that the Word that became flesh before their eyes was the same who was “in the beginning with God,” and that “all things were made by him,” (John 1:1-3). Further, his creation as witness to divine power and majesty was common in the Old Testament, as Moses often called upon “heaven and earth to witness against Israel,” (Deut. 30:19), and the psalmist refers to the moon as “a faithful witness in heaven,” (Ps. 89:37).

The Son of God most High now hangs cursed for the sins of his people on a tree, suspended between the same heaven and earth he created. And in response, the heavens who before wept for the sins of man with a flood, now drape themselves in black garments of mourning for the murder of their Maker, and the earth quakes under the weight of his accursed cross.

The sun turns its eye from beholding the Lamb of God, brutally mutilated by his enemies, by transforming the day into night. For the one who spreads out the heavens as a curtain (Ps. 104:2), the heavens, in turn, spread out a curtain of darkness between his holy manhood and the wicked eyes of men. This is no wonder, for it is from that Sun of righteousness (Mal. 4:2) that the natural sun borrows its light. How can this “lesser sun” not also lose its light then, when that greater Sun has lost his life? How could it bear to shine when the rays of its Maker have gone out?

At Joshua’s command the sun stood still (Joshua 10:12), and at Hezekiah’s prayer it went backward (2 Kings 20:10). But utterly to lose its light as the sun did here is an event of much greater significance. Was it not a deeper mystery that this same sun did not, in defense of its Lord, rain down fire from heaven and consume his murderers? And yet, in utter obedience to its Maker, it did not. In the day of judgment it will be so (Rev. 20:9). But this day was a day of grace, mercy, redemption.

How ready is every aspect of God’s creation to do his bidding and give him glory except man, who was made specifically for that purpose? The heavens always respond as God intends and directs. The heavens declare his glory. Cannot we who are made in his image do likewise? 

Contemplations

  1. O Lord, at your birth you brought light into the world, turning the darkness of man’s night into day. A brightly lit choir of angels appeared to the shepherds watching over their flocks in the darkness of the night (Luke 2:8, 11), and though it was indeed night, the angel tells them, “this day is born to you….” etc. It is not surprising then, that at your death the light was taken away, and the day is turned into night, fulfilling the prophecy, “then shall I cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will darken the earth in the clear day,” (Amos 5:8).
  1. As you, Lord, are the light that lightens every one that comes into the world (John 1:9), even so come Lord Jesus, come quickly into my darkened heart. Turn my night of ignorance into a day of true light. And if at any time it seems that you leave me for a time (as you briefly left your followers here), may heaviness fill that night and no joy come until the morning, that morning when you, that dayspring from on high, shall again visit me (Luke 1:78).
  1. Lord, you made yourself known to the Israelites by a cloud (Exod. 16:10), and to those wise men by a star. But to the Jews living at the time of your death, you made yourself known by shutting out the light. How much more graciously, more gloriously do you promise to show yourself to me in the bright sunshine of your Gospel? And how much more inexcusable if I do not walk nor delight in this greater light? (1 John 1).
  1. Shall the earth tremble more at your death than I for whom your blood was shed? Shall corrupt Felix tremble at Paul’s preaching of judgment (Acts 24:25), while I am unaffected by your suffering of execution? Shall Belshazzar quake with shaking knees at the handwriting on the wall (Dan. 5:6) and I not tremble as your hands sign your last will and testament in blood from the cross? How far have I fallen from who you first made me to be, if at your death I do not tremble with the earth from which I was made?

Further References for Luke 23:44-45:
Matt. 27:45; Mark 15:33; Exod. 10:21; Joel 2:31