12/30/2025
In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus is consistently effortlessly authoritative. He stills storms without effort. He silences demons with a word. He never strains to prove His power.
But at the cross, something unique happens in all the gospels.
In Mark 15, Jesus cries out loudly, twice. First, He cries out in abandonment, embodying Psalm 22: “My God, my God, why have You forsaken Me?” He fully enters the separation humanity feels from God. This cry is not weakness. It is intentional, costly obedience. Jesus is not losing control, He is bearing the full weight of separation so others never have to.
Then He cries out again, the temple curtain tears from top to bottom, and the centurion confesses Jesus as the Son of God. The order matters. Here, God restores presence before anyone confesses, repents, or understands. No ritual is completed. No sacrifice is offered by human hands. No one reaches upward. God moves first.
In the creation account, Jesus (the Word of God) acts effortlessly, yet here it's His loud cry which tears the veil. Unlike human religion (where people strain to reach God through effort and ritual) the gospel reveals a God who strains to reach people not out of weakness, but out of love.
This is how Mark ends: not with humanity finding God, but with God making Himself known, and then sending His people to go, be near, and share that same good news (in the same way that Jesus did), trusting that God’s presence always moves first.
READ: Mark 14:1–16:20; focus on Mark 15:33–39
CONSIDER: What does the tearing of the temple curtain reveal about God’s desire to be near to people?
APPLY: As you enter the new year, sit quietly for a moment this week. Let go of striving, fixing, or proving. Pray simply: “Jesus, thank You that You’ve made the way.” Grace has already brought you near.
Presence comes before confession. Nearness comes before understanding. Grace comes before response. Jesus bears the distance so God can draw near. Not because we reached Him, but because He reaches for us.