John 19:16–30

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“So he delivered him over to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus, and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them. Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This man said, I am King of the Jews.”’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written I have written.’ When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom, so they said to one another, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.’ This was to fulfill the Scripture which says, They divided my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.’ So the soldiers did these things, but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!’ And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), ‘I thirst.’ A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, ‘It is finished,’ and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”

The Enduring Light

When did the road to the cross begin? We’ve been in John’s gospel for over a year, but I personally have felt this building pressure, drawing us toward the cross like a magnet since somewhere around the resurrection of Lazarus in John 10, and the Triumphal Entry in John 12. It’s something that we all know is coming, but as the ruling Jews become more pointed in their aims to kill Jesus, as Mary anoints Him, as He enters Jerusalem for the Passover week, it all seems to gain a sense of momentum. It makes me think of getting on a roller coaster. You get strapped into your seat, the cars start to move, you listen to the click-clack of the chain as you’re pulled up the hill, and all the time, you know what’s coming. But as the first cars start to crest that hill, it all gains a greater sense of reality – the drop is coming. But the road to the cross didn’t begin when Jesus entered Jerusalem mounted on a donkey, it didn’t start when Mary poured ointment onto His feet and wiped them with her hair, and it didn’t commence in Bethany, when Jesus commanded Lazarus to rise, and the dead man walked from the tomb still dressed for burial. This journey didn’t start when Jesus enraged the ruling Jews by declaring that He is “I Am,” One with God, the Good Shepherd, or the Light of the World, or when they became incensed with Him for performing miracles on the Sabbath. It’s origins weren’t we He drove the salesmen and money changers from the temple, not when He turned water into wine at Cana, or when He was baptized in the Jordan, before His ministry began. We first see the plan of the cross in Genesis 3:15, when God says to the serpent,

“I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel.”

But this isn’t where it began. John 1:1–5 starts by telling us,

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

The Light was there in the beginning, but the Light was there before the beginning. Before space, or time, or reality as we can comprehend it, there was God, the Word, the Light. Before the darkness existed, there was the Light to stand against it. God, in His perfection knew and loved us before He made us, and in His perfection had a plan so that when we sinned and fell short, we would not be eternally separated from Him, but that He Himself would reconcile us to Him – that His Light would offer us Life in our death. And so this plan of the Father, this journey of the Son that ended at the cross began before the beginning. And in it we can see the glory and assurance of the eternal and enduring Light of God.

  1. The Light Endures the Pain

 “So he delivered him over to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus, and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha.”

John’s gospel, as in other cases, doesn’t delve deeply into details already covered extensively in the three synoptic accounts, and so rather than tell us about Simon of Cyrene, John draws attention to Jesus bearing His own cross. We know from Matthew, Mark, and Luke that Simon (a man that Mark familiarly referred to as, “the father of Alexander and Rufus”) was compelled “as he was coming into the country” to carry the cross of Jesus. Bearing in mind that all four gospel accounts are true, it makes sense that as part of the continued suffering of Jesus, He was forced to bear His own cross as they left Pilate’s headquarters, and embarked upon the procession to Golgotha. We know that His human body was stressed to the point of sweating blood before He was arrested. He’s now been brutally beaten and scourged, and it stands to reason that under the weight of the cross (which rough estimates put somewhere between 150 and 300 lbs.), His body may have given way after making His way through the city, causing the Romans to “compel” Simon of Cyrene to take up the cross for the rest of the trek. This added detail from John helps us see how deliberate and continuous Jesus’ suffering was, even between the scourging and His being nailed to the cross – no reprieve, only pain.

“There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them.”

When I was in high school, I was in a production of the musical “Godspell.” While I now have some theological qualms with the play (chiefly that it just omits the resurrection), at the time, it had Jesus in it, I certainly didn’t have the spiritual maturity that I’m blessed with today, and I didn’t question much. I remember one thing that bothered me was how the young man cast as Jesus acted through his crucifixion scene. He recited his lines in a breathy, dramatic sort of way, but it irked me that there was one crucial piece missing: pain. After rehearsal I asked to speak with him, and the two of us went up to the fence that serves as the cross in the context of the play. “Say your lines,” I told him, and as he started to speak, I lifted his hand to the fence and drove my thumb into the pressure point in his wrist. He cried out, I let up, and he looked at me like I was crazy. A fellow believer, I reminded him that he was being crucified during this scene, that the artful red ribbons used to tie him to the fence were representing nails – that as he was speaking, he was being tortured. I watched it click, and he played the scene different going forward. I tell that story because I need to take a moment to make sure we’re all on the same page practically concerning crucifixion. Because even without the wrath of God being poured out, this method of execution in itself is one of the most brutal and horrific ways to die. There is so much emotion and tragedy surrounding the death of Jesus, and crucifixion itself is so terrible that it becomes very easy to water it down, to blunt the edges, and just move on to the next part of things. But this is the suffering that our God bore for us, and so I want to address very clearly what the extreme suffering of crucifixion looked like. First bear in mind that this isn’t something that the Romans invented on the spot. Crucifixion in some form had been around for hundreds of years, ranging back to before the Babylonians. By the time Jesus is crucified, the Romans had been using it to execute the lowest and worst of their criminals for at least two to three hundred years. It was an art form, designed to maximize suffering and humiliation, dehumanizing the one they executed, and sending a message to other would-be criminals. While this may not have occurred in every case, Jesus was first scourged, which we looked at last week, a lashing with a many tailed whip, intended to remove flesh, in most cases from the backs of the shoulders to the ankles. Isaiah 52:14 prophesied of Jesus’ suffering saying,

“As many were astonished at you—his appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and his form beyond that of the children of mankind—”

I discussed it at length last week, but understand firstly that what Jesus endured before the cross was as severe a beating as someone could receive, short of being beaten to death. In regard to the crucifixion itself, sometimes ropes were used to bind the wrists to the cross. Jesus of course was nailed to His cross. This wouldn’t have been done through the palm, but through the heel of the hand, around the crease where the palm and wrist joint (still an anatomical part of the hand, certainly as understood in the Hebrew and Greek). This area was used, as the palm wouldn’t be strong enough to support body weight – it was also considerably more painful. Because of the nerves located in the wrist and heel of the hand, the sensation would have been similar to constant electrocution, while missing all the main arteries and preventing death from blood loss. The same strategic approach was used with the feet, with the nail driven through in a spot to create the same shocking effect as in the wrists, while avoiding the arteries. In crucifixion, being nailed to the cross wasn’t the cause of death, it was simply the place where you waited in extreme agony for a combination of exposure, dehydration, and suffocation to end your life. It was a slow and incomprehensibly painful death. This is condition that Jesus remained in, for approximately six hours, from 9:00 A.M. (Mark 15:25) until 3:00 P.M (Matthew 27:46). For six hours, Jesus hung in agony on the cross, and endured the wrath of God. And through all this, the Light endures. Several times in John’s gospel we see a phrase repeated when Jesus is on the point of being arrested, or stoned to death by the ruling Jews, that “His hour had not yet come.” The plan of God is perfect, Jesus’ authority is absolute, He would not die until it was time for Him to die, to the glory of the Father and the salvation of humanity. Now the hour has come. This is the darkest time in the history of the world, as the only Son of the Living God, the One who is One with the Father, is nailed to a cross and raised up to die, the spotless Lamb of God, sacrificed for our sins. But what do we see from the Light as He suffers so intently at this, the darkest hour. First, He prays for those who are crucifying Him. Luke 23:33–34 says,

“And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ And they cast lots to divide his garments.”

“They know not what they do.” If we truly knew the depth of the wickedness of our sin, we would turn from it, but in our flesh, we are blind. There’s the obvious ignorance, like we see in Matthew 27:24–25,

“So when Pilate saw that he was gaining nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, ‘I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.’ And all the people answered, ‘His blood be on us and on our children!’”

It’s like a small child, throwing a tantrum and telling their parent, “I hate you.” They think they mean it, but in reality, they can’t fathom the depth or implications of what they’re saying. And so the mob screams that Jesus be crucified, that it’s what they want, that they take the responsibility onto themselves. From these people, to the Roman soldiers who nail the Son of God to a cross, none of them can understand the depth of what they do – and in their wickedness, Jesus prays for them. The second thing we can look to is that Jesus embraces the suffering. This is the plan of God, the will of the Father, that He be crucified, that He suffer unlike any ever had or would, and Jesus does not shy away from this. Matthew 27:34 says,

“they offered him wine to drink, mixed with gall, but when he tasted it, he would not drink it.”

This bitter mixed wine (blended with myrrh, as Mark’s gospel explains), was mean to act as a narcotic, deadening some of the excruciating pain of the crucifixion. While as Christians we’re called to be sober minded, there is actually a Biblical precedence for this in Proverbs 31:6–7 which says,

“Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress; let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more.”

However Jesus is embracing the agony with a clear mind, and unimpaired senses, fulfilling the words of Isaiah 53:10–11,

“Yet it was the will of the LORD to crush him; he has put him to grief; when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the LORD shall prosper in his hand. Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities.”

We know what Jesus is doing, that He is atoning for the sins of the world, but from this place of extreme suffering and vulnerability, He shows it. Matthew 27:39–44 shows the verbal abuse Jesus endured on the cross,

“And those who passed by derided him, wagging their heads and saying, ‘You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.’ So also the chief priests, with the scribes and elders, mocked him, saying, ‘He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the King of Israel; let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him now, if he desires him. For he said, “I am the Son of God.”’ And the robbers who were crucified with him also reviled him in the same way.”

As He’s mocked and taunted, Jesus shows the magnitude of His power, even in the lowest of lows, in response to the repentance of one of the two criminals crucified alongside Him. Luke 23:39–43 says,

“One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, ‘Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!’ But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.’ And he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ And he said to him, ‘Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.’”

Hours passed, and it seems that in them, one of the crucified men who had earlier reviled Jesus with the rest had a revelation concerning his position, and placed His faith in Christ. He was blessed to see Jesus as the Messiah that He is, as opposed to who everyone expected Him to be. “Remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Concern, not for flesh, not for this life, but for the kingdom to come. And from the cross, Jesus saved the man who gave Him his faith. Jesus didn’t come into the world to save Himself, but to die so that we might be saved, and in His endurance of the physical agony and verbal abuse, while assuring the salvation of a condemned man, we can see the power and authority of the enduring Light of Christ.

2. The Light Endures His Title

“Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This man said, I am King of the Jews.”’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written I have written.’

God is given many names throughout Scripture: I Am, the Holy One of Israel, the Ancient of Days, the Lord of Hosts, the Living God, the Author of Life, the Alpha and Omega, the King of kings, the Lord of lords. Jesus was not crucified because He pretended to be these things, but because He was and is these things. The titles of the Father are bestowed upon the Son because the Son is One with the Father. What is tragic and fascinating, is to see the ways in which Jesus’ royalty and station are acknowledged through His treatment during His crucifixion. First, we see Pilate’s inscription, which once again shows Pilate as outrageously skilled at maintaining this corrupt and disturbing middle ground. He places the inscription on the cross, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” He has this written in Aramaic, the language of the Jews, in Latin, the language of the Romans, and in Greek, the common language in much of the empire. Now based on his character, I would assume that Pilate did this to spite the ruling Jews. While he clearly went through with it, Pilate was far more in favor of releasing Jesus than crucifying Him, and only did so under the pressure of the mob, who were egged on by the Jewish leaders. So he identifies Jesus as, “Jesus of Nazareth.” While this is of course accurate, it draws attention to the place of origin for the man called “King of the Jews” – a nowhere town in the northern region of Galilee, not in Judea, the epicenter of the religious elite. It also shames the ruling Jews by calling Jesus their King. It serves Pilate’s purposes either way – he can just as easily say, “this man was a King against Rome, so we crucified Him,” as he can, “this man claimed He was a King against Rome, so we crucified Him.” Either way, Pilate can be publicly considered a “friend of Caesar” carrying out Roman interests. But in this inscription, Pilate is almost accidentally evangelical. He’s proclaiming the truth about Jesus – He is the King of the Jews, which means He’s the King of the universe. This truth, whether people know it or not, attests to the prophetic mission that Jesus has come to save, not just the Jews, but the world. And then Pilate has it written in three languages, so that essentially any conceivable person who passes by can read the inscription. In what was most likely a petty and self-serving act, Pilate declared the truth about Jesus, who He is, and why He came to die, all in one inscription.

“When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom, so they said to one another, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.’ This was to fulfill the Scripture which says, They divided my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.’”

The most common symbolism that I’ve seen among commentators is that the seamless tunic represents the church. I’ve also read some accounts that tie this back to the linen undergarment of the high priest. I’m not saying that either of these are incorrect, but what I’d like to draw attention to is that this piece of clothing again signifies Jesus’ station. While I’m not intimately familiar with the clothing manufacturing of the first century, I’ve gleaned enough information to understand that looms were only so wide. Strips of cloth were woven, two to three feet wide, and were then stitched together to form the articles of clothing. Seamless pieces, like the one Jesus wore weren’t unheard of, but they weren’t common. To weave something like this took above average skill and/ or special equipment, to create a seamless article. It is something that would have been worn by someone with wealth or authority – it would not have been something you’d expect to find someone who is being crucified wearing. But the rarity of this tunic points back to who Jesus truly is – not a criminal, or an upstart insurrectionist being punished for His crimes. He is the King He’s labeled as and more, and this unlikely piece of clothing reinforces that. It’s significance is also supported by the soldier’s treatment of it, acknowledging it as special, and rather than tearing it into shares, being prompted to fulfill Psalm 22:18,

“they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.”

“So the soldiers did these things, but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.”

Luke’s gospel records Jesus addressing the women following along and mourning as they’re still making their way to Golgotha. Luke 23:28–31 says,

“But turning to them Jesus said, ‘Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children. For behold, the days are coming when they will say, “Blessed are the barren and the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!” Then they will begin to say to the mountains, “Fall on us,” and to the hills, “Cover us.” For if they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?’”

While this prophesies the future persecution of the church (which He’s already foretold), this mention of the mountains and hills calls forward to Revelation 6:15–17 which says,

“Then the kings of the earth and the great ones and the generals and the rich and the powerful, and everyone, slave and free, hid themselves in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains, calling to the mountains and rocks, ‘Fall on us and hide us from the face of him who is seated on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb, for the great day of their wrath has come, and who can stand?’”

Through the process of the crucifixion, another title that we’re reminded of is that Jesus will one day come as Judge. We witness the vast extent of God’s love and mercy poured out for us on the cross, but toward the end of time, the wrath of the Lamb is revealed, and justice is brought against the unrighteous world.

“When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, behold, your son!’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Behold, your mother!’ And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.”

There’s a trap on both sides where Mary, the mother of Jesus is concerned. In the Catholic and Orthodox traditions, her station is over-elevated. Mary is the human mother of Jesus, but she is often revered as the mother of God is a grander sense, beyond Jesus’ human form. She’s shrouded in mystical traditions like her perpetual virginity, which find no root in Scripture. She is venerated in a manner that often looks suspiciously like worship, and is sometimes called “the queen of heaven.” The trap on the protestant side of things is that we overcorrect from other practices, and downplay Mary’s position. She was the one chosen by God as faithful to bring His Son into the world – we can’t treat that as if it’s nothing. What’s more, we see that Jesus loved and cared for her, and she deserves a measure of respect for her obedience before God. In regard to Jesus saying, “woman, behold, your son!”… It’s too big to unpack. There’s so much there that Jesus could be referring to, between His station, His calling, her obedience to God, her love for her Son, and her witnessing the crucifixion of the One whom to her is both her child and her God.. There are so many potential implications, and it feels dangerous to speculate. What I can handle with greater confidence are Jesus’ words to John, “behold your mother!” Bear in mind that as we’ve discussed, Jesus has been flogged, His back stripped of flesh. He’s nailed, hung on a cross. For Him to speak, He must inhale, and for Him to inhale, He must slide Himself up.  Every time He speaks, He adds to the immense agony that He’s already in. The role that we see Jesus fulfill here is that of a son in the human sense, attesting to His humanity. It’s commonly believed that the reason Joseph is not mentioned during the ministry of Jesus is because he had died before this time, leaving Mary as a widow. Assuming that this is correct, Deuteronomy 10:18 says of God,

“He executes justice for the fatherless and the widow, and loves the sojourner, giving him food and clothing.”

And James 1:27 tells us,

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.”

Jesus, as Mary’s eldest Son, takes this moment as He endures the cross to make provision for her, laying the responsibility of her care on His disciple, John. In this we see Him fulfill the role and responsibility of the Son of this woman who bore Him.

3. The Light Endures the Finish

 “After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), ‘I thirst.’ A jar full of sour wine stood there, so they put a sponge full of the sour wine on a hyssop branch and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, ‘It is finished,’ and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”

This is not the same wine that Jesus was offered earlier during the crucifixion, a narcotic to dull the pain. Rather this is truly a mixture intended to hydrate, and if anything would sharpen the senses. But in His request, Jesus again fulfills Scripture, this time Psalm 69:21 which says,

“They gave me poison for food, and for my thirst they gave me sour wine to drink.”

In regard to Jesus’ death, understand that He died on the cross, but was not killed by the cross, as there’s a distinct difference. Jesus’ life was not taken from Him, it was laid down, as He said in John 10:17–18,

“For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.”

Jesus wasn’t killed by the beatings He endured, or the savagery of the crucifixion itself, He yielded His Spirit. Matthew 27:51–54 says that after Jesus had given up His life,

“And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened. And many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised, and coming out of the tombs after his resurrection they went into the holy city and appeared to many. When the centurion and those who were with him, keeping watch over Jesus, saw the earthquake and what took place, they were filled with awe and said, ‘Truly this was the Son of God!’”

This splitting of the temple curtain heralds the words of Ezekiel 37:27–28,

“My dwelling place shall be with them, and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. Then the nations will know that I am the LORD who sanctifies Israel, when my sanctuary is in their midst forevermore.”

We do not know a closeness with God in the physical sense, as we will in His presence in eternity. However after the atoning death of Christ the wrath of God was appeased, the sin debt was paid, and the Spirit of God indwells the hearts of believers. We are afforded a oneness through His sacrifice that the world could have never known prior. In regard to Jesus’ final words on the cross, Matthew and Mark record, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Luke writes, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” and John writes in today’s passage, “It is finished.” So how do we reconcile this? Matthew and Mark both say that Jesus “cried out” after He had spoken before, and then yielded up His Spirit. We could assume that this cry, which is not given words in these other two gospels, was Jesus saying, “it is finished,” but this doesn’t account for Luke 23:46 saying explicitly,

“Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!’ And having said this he breathed his last.”

The thing is, Jesus is saying the same thing in all four accounts. Let’s start with Matthew and Mark, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” isn’t just a cry of despair, it’s the beginning of Psalm 22, which says in verse 1,

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?”

While Psalm 22 begins heavy, it does an about face midway through. In it, David goes from lamenting his brokenness and despair, to turning and acknowledging God as the One who saves. By reciting the beginning of the Psalm, Jesus directs you by default to the end. Psalm 22 says at the ending in verses 27-31,

“All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you. For kingship belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations. All the prosperous of the earth eat and worship; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, even the one who could not keep himself alive. Posterity shall serve him; it shall be told of the Lord to the coming generation; they shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn, that he has done it.”

In saying “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus is declaring the work is finished, that the goodness and glory of the Lord, that His saving victory has been opened to the ends of the earth. When Luke records “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” this too shows the completion of the work that is the will of the Father. Jesus said in John 12:27–28,

“‘Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? “Father, save me from this hour”? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.’ Then a voice came from heaven: ‘I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.’”

Jesus came into the world to fulfill the will of the Father – the only reason He can yield His Spirit, committing it into the hands of the Father is because the work on the cross is complete, it is finished. In this we can see that the gospel accounts all harmonize, and that in each telling of the conclusion of the Passion of the Christ, we see His fullness in completing the work of the Father. We can see that the Light that is our hope and Life endures the pain, and shame, and torture, endures the weight of the titles of God, and endures the mission for the redemption of man to the end. To say, “it is finished,” and reconcile us to Him for eternity.

Pastor Chris’s sermon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YudqcXIpN60

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