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In the name of Jesus, Amen. These past forty days, we've been sitting in ruins and darkness with the prophet Jeremiah. We've watched as he's been rejected and mocked, beaten and persecuted, ignored, and imprisoned. We've heard his wailing and his grief, his lament. But tonight we see that it is not Jeremiah, but Jesus, who most faithfully carries and voices the laments we've been hearing and sharing in. It is Jesus who best knows rejection, who is most acquainted with sorrow, who bears the awful load of our obstinate sin. Throughout the service tonight, we've heard a number of these laments from Jeremiah, and there are a few more to come, but for now, let's focus in on the one that kicked off our journey through the passion narrative this evening. Jeremiah's words from chapter 11 of his book, When men from his hometown of Anathoth were plotting to take his life. Here again Jeremiah 11, verses 18 through 20. The Lord made it known to me, and I knew, then you showed me their deeds. But I was like a gentle lamb, led to the slaughter. I did not know it was against me they devised themes, saying, Let us destroy the tree with its fruit, let us cut him off from the land of the living, that his name may be remembered no more. But O Lord of hosts, who judges righteously, who tests the heart and the mind, let me see your vengeance upon them. For to you I have committed my cause. Has a sermon ever changed your life? There's one that did for me. Growing up, my dad was my pastor, and my freshman year in high school, I was sitting in ruins and darkness, and I couldn't tell you why, even to this day. But there I was feeling like Jeremiah, just empty and hopeless in every way. And I went to our Good Friday service that year, and my dad preached on the silence of God. He walked us through the passion narrative and highlighted every single moment where Jesus could have said something, could have said anything, and he would have been spared the unthinkable pain of crucifixion. And instead, Jesus remained silent before Caiaphas, before Herod, before Pilate. And I took to heart that night that Jesus remained silent for me. And everything changed. Isaiah puts it this way: He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth. Like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before it shears is silent. So he opened not his mouth. And Jeremiah takes this picture and applies it to himself. Jeremiah says he was like a gentle lamb led to the slaughter, completely unaware of the plot against him, innocent and naive and vulnerable. He had no idea of the danger until the Lord warned him and saved him. Well, tonight Jesus stands as the bold font to Jeremiah's italics. Jesus is not like a lamb. Jesus is the Lamb, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Jesus too is the victim of a plot against his life. Jesus too is innocent, innocent in a way no one else, including Jeremiah, has ever been, truly innocent. Jesus too is gentle and meek, not combative, not resisting, not retaliating, even though he could have summoned twelve legions of angels to his defense. Gentle and lowly in heart. And it doesn't get lowlier than a cross. This is a lamb ready for the sacrifice, poised to serve as the propitiation for sins. Do not mistake his gentleness for weakness. This is willing submission. All for you. Sin can be brash and loud. We go kicking and screaming. The perfect case in point are the crowds that mocked and derided Jesus, and the criminals put to death on either side of our Lord who joined in the awful chorus. Their voices are our voices. Their sin is our sin. And all the while Jesus opens not his mouth. He held his holy tongue for you. The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, kept silent, so your sin might be taken away from you. Of course, Jesus himself was taken away. He is a lamb led to the slaughter. That's what Jeremiah felt like. He was being taken toward death by his countrymen, his enemies that he was trying to save, and he was powerless to stop it. Jesus, though, the all-powerful, omnipotent, almighty Son of God, has all the power in the world and beyond it, and he allows his enemies to lead him up Calvary. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the robe and put his own clothes on him and led him away to crucify him. Led to the slaughter by Roman soldiers, this special detachment schooled in the cruel art of crucifixion. He was forced to climb to the place of a skull, where they would nail him to the wood to die. But appearances can be deceiving. Though his executioner appears to be the one dressed in the helmet and the regalia of a Roman centurion, he's just a representative. The true taskmaster driving Jesus to his death was not one man, but all men. It was our sin that led Jesus to the slaughter. He was delivered up for our trespasses, Paul writes to the Romans. He gave himself for our sins, he writes to the Galatians. This Jesus Peter preaches on Pentecost, we crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men. Jesus was led to the slaughter by Roman soldiers, yes. He was led to the slaughter by our sin. And he was led to the slaughter by his Father. Jesus' entire movement all week long has been a procession to the cross. Since he rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, Golgotha has been firmly in his sights, but really it has been from the beginning. From the moment he emptied himself and became nothing for our sake, even from before the ages began. This was the Father's will. The Father who did not take the cup of suffering from his son's hands, but instead allowed those hands to be pierced by nails. The Father whose will it was to crush him, Isaiah says. The Father who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for us all. Jesus is a gentle lamb led to the slaughter by the Father for our sake. And there he will be cut off. Jeremiah experienced his enemies plotting to erase him, to silence his voice, to put an end to his influence and to his life. But they would not succeed. Instead, God says that they will be cut off. And they are, of course. The temple in Jerusalem will be toppled and utterly destroyed. The people of Judah will be cut off from their homes and their identities and their lives. But in all of this, Jeremiah's life will be preserved. Not so for Jesus. In our Savior's case, this is not a case of attempted murder. It's a successful assassination. Jeremiah's enemies had said, Let us destroy the tree with its fruit. Let us cut him off from the land of the living. And this is just what happens to Jesus by a tree, the humiliating, shameful, horrific tree of the cross. Jesus is cut off from the land of the living. By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgression of my people. The temple of his body is destroyed and left in ruins. No breath, no voice, no future. The way, the truth, and the life is cut off from the land of the living. And cut off from his father, too. In one of two Psalms that Jesus directly quotes from the cross, he cries out with the desperate words of David from Psalm 22 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Jesus is cut off from the land of the living, from the very source of life, and he is cut off so that you never will be. He is stricken for your transgression, so that you will never be separated from the Father. He is taken away by oppression and judgment, so that oppression and judgment will never have a hold on you. For you have been ransomed with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. He is your portion in the land of the living. By his death he has secured life for you forever and an eternal inheritance in the land of promise. For all along he has committed his cause to the Father, to the one who gave his son for the life of the world. Jeremiah, in the midst of persecution and danger, entrusted himself to God's justice, appealing to the righteous judge for vindication, and he received it, but not because of his own merit. Jeremiah was vindicated in Christ alone, just like you and me. And we are vindicated because Jesus was vindicated. When he was reviled, he did not revile in turn. When he suffered, he did not threaten, but committed himself, continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. Jesus, like Jeremiah, entrusted himself to the righteous judge. He knew that his cause was just. He knew that his vindication was near. His disposition in death is expressed well by Jeremiah in the Book of Lamentations. I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit. You heard my plea, do not close your ear to my cry for help. You came near when I called to you. You said, Do not fear. And it doesn't get any emptier than the cross. Jesus was committed to the death. And in his death, he quoted another psalm, and crying out with a loud voice, he said, Father, into your hands I commit my spirit. To you I have committed my cause. What was his cause? You. You were the reason he was led like a lamb to the slaughter. You were the reason he was cut off from the land of the living. You were the reason that he willingly suffered and bled and breathed his last. You were the cause Jesus committed to the Father. His cause was to save you. And he has. It is finished. Worthy is the Lamb who was slain. To receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing. All of this is coming. For Jesus' vindication will arrive in just a few days. And his vindication will prove to be ours, our acquittal, our rescue, our eternal exoneration. But for tonight, we join Jeremiah in one last lament. For Jesus, the eternal Son of God, is laid in a tomb, dead and lifeless, cut off from the land of the living. We will acknowledge this with darkness and with silence, and in just a few minutes, our service will conclude with the Lord's Prayer. And then we invite you to join us in a silent procession following the Christ candle outside, where we will take these laments that we've collected over the course of our Lenten journey and burn them as a reminder that Jesus has borne them for us, that the cries of our heart all find their ultimate answer at the cross. Jesus is our gentle Lamb, led to the slaughter, cut off from the land of the living for us. He has committed his cause to the Father. So we too commit ourselves into God's hands. In Jesus' name. Amen. Let's take just a moment of silence now to consider the weight of Jesus' sacrifice for us.