25-1203wc - Detailed Summary

The session opens by highlighting the devastating economy of Scripture, capable of saying in half a sentence what takes lifetimes to grasp. One such understated verse is John 15:12 – “This is my commandment, that you love one another just as I have loved you.” Known as the Royal Law, it is often treated by believers as merely the Royal Suggestion.

Del Tackett asks why Christians largely ignore the Royal Law. Possible reasons include ignorance of the depth of Christ’s love, the serpent’s ancient lies, selfishness, or—most piercingly—never having grasped how much Christ actually loves us. To illustrate, Tackett examines the sinful woman in Luke 7 who crashes Simon the Pharisee’s dinner, weeps at Jesus’ feet, wipes them with her hair, and anoints them with costly perfume. Jesus contrasts her extravagant love with Simon’s coldness through the parable of two debtors: the one forgiven the greater debt loves more. Jesus declares, “Her sins, which are many, have been forgiven, for she loved much; but he who is forgiven little, loves little.”

Tackett then moves to Gethsemane, where Jesus’ soul is “encompassed and crushed” by sorrow—not primarily from impending physical torment, but from the coming spiritual separation. On the cross, Jesus cries, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” For the only time in eternity, the Trinity’s perfect communion is broken as the Father turns away from the Son who has become sin (2 Cor 5:21). The infinite wrath we deserve falls upon Him.

Drawing on Revelation 13:8, Tackett emphasizes that Christ is “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.” The sacrifice was eternally accomplished in the councils of the Godhead before creation. Using C.S. Lewis’s image of God standing outside time, seeing the entire timeline at once, the cross is not merely a past event—it is eternally present to God.

For God, the crucifixion is not limited to three hours on a Friday; the scars Thomas touched remain visible at the right hand of the Majesty. The cry of forsakenness still echoes in eternity. Tackett shares two moving stories: a Sunday-school boy asking if the Father’s turning away “hurt Jesus’ feelings,” and an Armenian father digging for days after the 1988 earthquake because his son believed “My dad will come.” Tackett asks whether we truly know the Father came for us and that the Son willingly accepted forsakenness so Deuteronomy 31:6—“He will never leave you nor forsake you”—could be irrevocably true for us. Isaiah foresaw the disfigurement (Isa 52–53) that was far more than physical—it was love becoming the object of divine wrath.

Returning to Luke 7, the woman loved much because she knew she had been forgiven much; Simon the Pharisee loved little because he believed he needed little forgiveness.

The difference between lukewarm and white-hot Christians is not greater willpower but clearer vision of the penalty paid, the eternal cry heard, and the scars that remain because the love remains. Tackett quotes Frederick Lehman’s hymn “The Love of God” (“Could we with ink the ocean fill…”) and Stuart Townend’s “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us,” underscoring that if we ever truly see the royal, eternal, Trinitarian, wrath-absorbing, scar-bearing love of Christ, we will never again treat the Royal Law as optional.

When the royal sacrifice is grasped, loving one another “as I have loved you” ceases to be a burdensome command and becomes the only sane response in the universe. The cross is not merely something Jesus did; it is who He eternally is for us—the slain Lamb who loved us and gave Himself for us forever. This is the understated thunder of Tour 8.