John Chapter 19
Jesus Is Crucified
A. Jesus is condemned to crucifixion.
1. (John 19:1-4) Pilate hopes to satisfy the mob by having Jesus whipped and mocked.
“So then Pilate took Jesus and scourged Him. And the soldiers twisted a crown of thorns and put it on His head, and they put on Him a purple robe. Then they said, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ And they struck Him with their hands. Pilate then went out again, and said to them, ‘Behold, I am bringing Him out to you, that you may know that I find no fault in Him.’”
Pilate, though fully convinced of Jesus’ innocence, nevertheless gave in to political expediency and ordered the brutal scourging. Earlier he had already declared, “I find no fault in Him at all” (John 18:38), yet he allowed Roman cruelty to be unleashed upon the Son of God in hopes that this spectacle of suffering might pacify the bloodthirsty crowd. This reveals Pilate’s moral weakness: knowing what was right, he failed to act upon it, and instead attempted compromise with evil.
The scourging itself was no light punishment. Roman practice employed a flagrum, a whip made of leather thongs weighted with lead and embedded with sharp fragments of bone and metal. Each lash tore deeply into flesh, often leaving muscles exposed. Victims sometimes died beneath the lash alone, never making it to the cross. The intention was to weaken and humiliate, reducing the condemned man to a state of exhaustion so that crucifixion would end more swiftly. In this moment, the perfect and sinless Lamb of God endured a punishment that even hardened criminals sometimes could not survive. As Isaiah prophesied, “But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed” (Isaiah 53:5).
The soldiers further mocked Jesus by placing upon His head a crown of thorns. The thorns used were not small, but long, hard, and sharp, pressing into His scalp and drawing blood. What was intended as ridicule became a profound symbol: Christ bore the curse pronounced in Genesis when God said, “Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you” (Genesis 3:18). He literally carried the curse of sin upon His brow. They clothed Him with a purple robe, a mocking gesture of royalty, and saluted Him with derision, “Hail, King of the Jews!” They struck Him repeatedly, spitting out cruelty and contempt. Matthew records that they went even further: “They stripped Him and put a scarlet robe on Him. When they had twisted a crown of thorns, they put it on His head, and a reed in His right hand. And they bowed the knee before Him and mocked Him, saying, ‘Hail, King of the Jews!’ Then they spat on Him, and took the reed and struck Him on the head” (Matthew 27:28-30).
In contrast to their mock homage, believers are called to offer genuine honor and adoration to Christ. As Charles Spurgeon observed, if wicked men could be so creative in their dishonor, how much more should Christians be inventive in their worship. The crown of thorns should stir us to offer a crown of praise, the purple robe should remind us of His majesty, and the blows He received should move us to kneel in reverent submission.
Finally, Pilate presented Jesus again to the people, declaring once more, “Behold, I am bringing Him out to you, that you may know that I find no fault in Him.” This was now his second declaration of Jesus’ innocence, but Pilate still failed to do what justice required. He hoped that the sight of Jesus, bloodied, beaten, and humiliated, might evoke pity and dissuade the crowd from calling for crucifixion. Yet this attempt at appeasement was futile, for the hatred of the mob and the malice of the religious leaders could not be satisfied short of death. Luke notes that Pilate tried multiple times to release Jesus (Luke 23:4, 15, 20, 22), but each time he compromised further, until finally he consented to their demand. In the end, Pilate represents the danger of knowing the truth but lacking the courage to stand for it.
2. (John 19:5-6) Pilate presents Jesus to the crowd.
“Then Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate said to them, ‘Behold the Man!’ Therefore, when the chief priests and officers saw Him, they cried out, saying, ‘Crucify Him, crucify Him!’ Pilate said to them, ‘You take Him and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him.’”
When Pilate brought Jesus before the crowd, He was clothed in mockery—the crown of thorns pressed into His brow and the purple robe draped over His lacerated shoulders. Blood, sweat, and spit covered Him, evidence of both Roman brutality and human contempt. Pilate likely hoped that the sheer misery and humiliation of Jesus would stir compassion among the people, convincing them that this broken figure posed no threat to Rome or to Israel. Yet, what Pilate presented as weakness was in fact the display of divine strength—Christ, bearing shame and pain, willingly submitting for the redemption of mankind.
The early church fathers Origen and Tertullian held that Jesus may have worn the crown of thorns all the way to the cross, emphasizing how His kingship was established not through earthly splendor but through suffering. As Spurgeon observed, “Many a crown has been secured by blood, and so is this, but it is His own blood; many a throne has been established by suffering, and so is this, but He Himself bears the pain.” In that moment, Christ’s humiliation paradoxically became His coronation, for through the shame of man came the glory of God’s redemptive plan.
Pilate’s words, “Behold the Man!”, were filled with scorn, yet they echo with divine purpose. On one level, Pilate meant to say, “Look at this pitiful man—can such a figure be a real threat?” But in another sense, God Himself was speaking through Pilate’s lips, presenting Jesus as the true and perfect Man, the second Adam. Just as John the Baptist had earlier proclaimed, “Behold! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29), so Pilate unknowingly invited all humanity to “behold” the Son of Man, tested, sinless, and yet despised. Pilate tried to save Jesus by diminishing Him, presenting Him as harmless and humiliated. Many in our own age attempt something similar—stripping Jesus of His divinity, calling Him merely a moral teacher or a good man—to make Him more “acceptable” to modern culture. Yet such efforts betray the truth, for Christ cannot be half-honored. He is either Lord of all or not Lord at all.
The reaction of the religious leaders exposes the depth of human rebellion against God. As soon as they saw Jesus in His suffering state, they cried out with venom, “Crucify Him, crucify Him!” Their hatred was unrelenting and unreasoning. Perhaps the crowd felt a moment of pity when they saw this strong yet bloodied man standing silently before them, but any compassion was quickly drowned out by the furious cries of the chief priests and their officers. This was not merely opposition to a man—it was man’s hatred toward God in flesh. As Psalm 2 foretells, “The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the Lord and against His Anointed” (Psalm 2:2).
In their fury, the priests resembled later persecutors of Christians who cried, “To the lions!” during Rome’s spectacles, blaming believers for every calamity. The hostility toward Christ was not confined to the Sanhedrin but continues through history wherever men suppress the truth in unrighteousness.
Pilate’s final words in this scene are striking: “You take Him and crucify Him, for I find no fault in Him.” This was the third formal declaration of Jesus’ innocence. Pilate knew full well that the Jews had no legal authority to carry out crucifixion, so his words were laced with sarcasm and frustration. He mocked their demands while again admitting the truth—that Jesus was guiltless. Yet despite his repeated affirmations, Pilate refused to act with courage. He was caught between justice and political survival, and in his cowardice he allowed injustice to prevail.
Theologically, this moment underscores two truths: first, that Jesus was the spotless Lamb, without blemish, fulfilling the requirement for substitutionary atonement. Peter later wrote, “Knowing that you were not redeemed with corruptible things, like silver or gold, from your aimless conduct received by tradition from your fathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot” (1 Peter 1:18-19). Second, that man, left to himself, will always choose rebellion against God unless grace intervenes. The religious elite, supposedly guardians of truth, became agents of hatred. Pilate, supposedly the arbiter of justice, became the enabler of injustice. Only Christ remained faithful, resolute, and obedient to the Father’s will.
3. (John 19:7-9) Pilate learns of the charge against Jesus.
“The Jews answered him, ‘We have a law, and according to our law He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God.’ Therefore, when Pilate heard that saying, he was the more afraid, and went again into the Praetorium, and said to Jesus, ‘Where are You from?’ But Jesus gave him no answer.”
The religious leaders finally revealed their true charge against Jesus. It was not primarily political, though they had cloaked their accusations in terms of sedition to pressure Pilate. Rather, the deepest reason for their hostility was theological: “He made Himself the Son of God.” According to the law given in Leviticus, blasphemy was punishable by death: “And whoever blasphemes the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death. All the congregation shall certainly stone him, the stranger as well as him who is born in the land. When he blasphemes the name of the Lord, he shall be put to death” (Leviticus 24:16). Jesus’ claim to divine Sonship was considered blasphemy by the Sanhedrin, for they rightly understood that by calling Himself the Son of God in the unique sense, He was declaring equality with the Father. Earlier in the Gospel, John recorded: “Therefore the Jews sought all the more to kill Him, because He not only broke the Sabbath, but also said that God was His Father, making Himself equal with God” (John 5:18). Their hatred reached its climax here at the cross.
Adam Clarke rightly noted that when Jesus called Himself the Son of God, the Jews took this to mean nothing less than equality with God. This was the heart of the issue. They would tolerate a teacher, a healer, or even a prophet, but they would not accept One who claimed full deity. Their rejection was not of a moral reformer but of God Himself in human flesh. This is why John opened his Gospel with the declaration, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1).
When Pilate heard that Jesus had claimed to be the Son of God, “he was the more afraid.” Up to this point, Pilate may have viewed Jesus as a tragic but ordinary figure caught in the political and religious tensions of Judea. Yet something about Jesus—His silence, His composure under torment, His words about truth and kingdom—already unsettled Pilate. Now the suggestion that Jesus might in fact be divine terrified him. The Greek form here allows the sense of “exceedingly afraid,” indicating not just unease but a deep dread that this beaten prisoner was not merely a man. Pilate, though a pagan, would have been familiar with Roman myths of gods appearing in human form. To a superstitious Roman mind, the possibility that he was mistreating a divine being brought great fear.
Pilate therefore returned to the Praetorium and asked Jesus, “Where are You from?” It was not an idle question but a desperate attempt to understand. Pilate had judged countless men before, but none like this. He wanted Jesus to provide a reason to release Him, to explain Himself in terms that could satisfy both Pilate’s conscience and political duty. Yet Jesus gave him no answer. He had already told Pilate earlier, “My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight, so that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now My kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36). Jesus had already explained His origin and mission, and Pilate had refused to act upon that truth. Silence was now His only reply.
This silence was also prophetic. Isaiah wrote of the Suffering Servant, “He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). Christ’s silence was not weakness, but sovereign strength. He would not plead for His life, because He had come to lay it down of His own will.
Pilate’s question, “Where are You from?”, though asked in fear, remains one of the most important questions any person can ask about Jesus. To know His origin is to understand His identity. He is not merely from Nazareth, nor merely a prophet from Galilee. He is the eternal Word who came down from heaven, the only begotten Son of the Father, sent into the world for our salvation. As Tasker observed, Pilate unwittingly asked the right question, but he did not stay for the answer already given.
4. (John 19:10-11) Pilate and Jesus speak about power.
“Then Pilate said to Him, ‘Are You not speaking to me? Do You not know that I have power to crucify You, and power to release You?’ Jesus answered, ‘You could have no power at all against Me unless it had been given you from above. Therefore the one who delivered Me to you has the greater sin.’”
Pilate grew increasingly frustrated at Jesus’ silence. “Are You not speaking to me?” he asked. The Roman governor was astonished that this prisoner, standing bloodied and beaten, would not plead for His life. Every other man Pilate had ever judged had begged, argued, or attempted to sway his decision. Yet Jesus, calm and composed, remained silent. The emphasis in the Greek places stress on “me,” underscoring Pilate’s disbelief that Jesus would not appeal to one who represented Rome, the greatest earthly power of the age. Jesus’ silence fulfilled prophecy, for Isaiah had written of the Suffering Servant: “He was oppressed and He was afflicted, yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth” (Isaiah 53:7).
Pilate then asserted his authority: “Do You not know that I have power to crucify You, and power to release You?” In Pilate’s understanding, he held the decisive role in Jesus’ fate. He saw himself as the one with ultimate earthly power, the arbiter of life and death. Yet his “power” was compromised, for though he claimed the ability to crucify or release, in reality he was a slave to political expediency and mob pressure. The right course—setting an innocent man free—was clear, yet Pilate was too weak to exercise that power. The very man who boasted of absolute authority would soon wash his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of the blood of this just Person. You see to it” (Matthew 27:24). In truth, Pilate demonstrated that power without righteousness is no true power at all.
Jesus then corrected Pilate’s distorted view of authority: “You could have no power at all against Me unless it had been given you from above.” With this statement, Jesus revealed the true nature of sovereignty. Whatever power Pilate possessed was delegated by God. Earthly rulers only govern under heaven’s allowance, for as Paul later affirmed, “For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God” (Romans 13:1). Pilate, Rome, and all human institutions are secondary and derivative; ultimate power belongs to God alone. Jesus’ words remind believers that even in times of injustice and persecution, nothing happens apart from God’s sovereign will. What looked like Rome’s triumph was in fact God’s ordained plan for redemption.
Finally, Jesus added, “Therefore the one who delivered Me to you has the greater sin.” Here Jesus did not absolve Pilate of guilt—he would still be accountable for condemning an innocent man—but He distinguished degrees of responsibility. The Jewish leaders, who had seen Christ’s miracles, heard His teaching, and yet willfully rejected Him, bore greater culpability. Some see this as a reference to Judas, who betrayed Jesus into their hands; others point to Caiaphas, who orchestrated the plot. The ambiguity seems deliberate, for in truth both Judas and the religious authorities shared responsibility. Their sin was “greater” because it was rooted in deliberate spiritual rejection, whereas Pilate’s sin was more the product of cowardice and compromise.
This distinction also teaches us that while all sin is deadly, not all sin carries equal weight of responsibility before God. As Jesus declared earlier, “He who delivered Me to you has the greater sin,” so Scripture affirms that judgment will be according to light received and truth rejected (Luke 12:47-48). The Jewish leaders’ hatred was the climax of Israel’s long rejection of God’s messengers. Pilate’s weakness was shameful, but their rebellion was damning.
5. (John 19:12-13) Pilate brings Jesus out for judgment.
“From then on Pilate sought to release Him, but the Jews cried out, saying, ‘If you let this Man go, you are not Caesar’s friend. Whoever makes himself a king speaks against Caesar.’ When Pilate therefore heard that saying, he brought Jesus out and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called The Pavement, but in Hebrew, Gabbatha.”
At this point in the trial, Pilate’s desperation is evident. “From then on Pilate sought to release Him” shows that the governor was wrestling with his conscience. He had already declared Jesus innocent multiple times and was impressed by His composure and words. Adding to this pressure, Matthew records that Pilate’s wife sent word to him during the proceedings: “While he was sitting on the judgment seat, his wife sent to him, saying, ‘Have nothing to do with that just Man, for I have suffered many things today in a dream because of Him.’ But the chief priests and elders persuaded the multitudes that they should ask for Barabbas and destroy Jesus” (Matthew 27:19-20). This dream was a providential warning, further confirming to Pilate that he was dealing with no ordinary man. Yet even with this divine caution, Pilate was more concerned with the crowd and his own political survival than with justice.
The Jewish leaders seized upon Pilate’s weakness and struck at his most vulnerable point: his relationship to Rome. They cried out, “If you let this Man go, you are not Caesar’s friend. Whoever makes himself a king speaks against Caesar.” This was a calculated threat. Pilate’s position was already tenuous; historical accounts suggest he owed his governorship more to political connections, including marriage into the imperial family, than to personal merit. To be accused of tolerating treason against Caesar would be the end of his career, if not his life. The phrase “friend of Caesar” was not casual—it denoted an official title of honor, marking someone as loyal and trusted by the emperor. To lose such a standing would mean disgrace. Humanly speaking, this charge sealed Jesus’ fate. Pilate may have been shaken by Jesus’ words about divine authority in verse 11, but the fear of losing Rome’s favor outweighed any fear of condemning the innocent.
Ironically, Pilate wanted to be a “friend of Caesar,” yet he was not truly Caesar’s friend, nor was Caesar his. And more tragically, by rejecting Christ, Pilate lost the opportunity to be a friend of God. Jesus Himself had said, “You are My friends if you do whatever I command you” (John 15:14). Pilate chose political expediency over truth, and in doing so demonstrated that a man cannot serve two masters (Matthew 6:24).
Finally, John records that Pilate “brought Jesus out and sat down in the judgment seat in a place that is called The Pavement, but in Hebrew, Gabbatha.” The Pavement, or Lithostrotos in Greek, was a raised stone platform, likely approached by steps, where Roman officials rendered their official verdicts. The Hebrew name Gabbatha also means “elevated place.” From this elevated platform Pilate sat to deliver judgment. Yet in reality, the roles were reversed. Pilate thought he was judging Christ, but in truth Pilate himself was on trial before God. His verdict on Jesus determined his own eternal destiny. Every man is faced with the same question Pilate faced: “What then shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matthew 27:22).
6. (John 19:14-16) The crowd rejects Jesus and Pilate sentences Him to death.
“Now it was the Preparation Day of the Passover, and about the sixth hour. And he said to the Jews, ‘Behold your King!’ But they cried out, ‘Away with Him, away with Him! Crucify Him!’ Pilate said to them, ‘Shall I crucify your King?’ The chief priests answered, ‘We have no king but Caesar!’ Then he delivered Him to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus and led Him away.”
John carefully situates this climactic moment in history: “Now it was the Preparation Day of the Passover.” The timing is not incidental. On the very day when lambs were prepared for slaughter in observance of the Passover, Jesus Christ—the true Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29)—was prepared for sacrifice. Just as the blood of the lamb in Egypt marked the homes of the faithful and spared them from judgment (Exodus 12:13), so the blood of Christ would mark believers for salvation.
John adds that it was “about the sixth hour,” which introduces a difficulty, since Mark records: “Now it was the third hour, and they crucified Him” (Mark 15:25). Several explanations have been offered. Some argue that John reckoned time by Roman civil practice, beginning the day at midnight, which would make “the sixth hour” approximately 6:00 a.m., the time Pilate pronounced judgment. Others suggest that neither John nor Mark intended absolute precision, but rather general indicators of late morning. Still others believe an early scribal error may account for the discrepancy, since the Greek numerals for three and six are easily confused. Whatever the case, both Gospel writers agree on the theological reality: Christ, the true Passover Lamb, was condemned at the very time Israel prepared their lambs for sacrifice. God’s timing was perfect.
Pilate then presented Jesus to the people with the words: “Behold your King!” He likely spoke in mockery, gesturing toward a beaten man clothed in rags and crowned with thorns. Yet his scorn unwittingly proclaimed divine truth. Here stood the King of kings, despised and rejected, clothed not in royal splendor but in humiliation. The crowd’s response revealed the depth of human rebellion: “Away with Him, away with Him! Crucify Him!” The Greek tense implies they kept on shouting, a relentless, unyielding demand for His death. This demonstrates how persistent and irrational sin’s hatred is toward God. As Jesus said earlier, “The world… hates Me because I testify of it that its works are evil” (John 7:7). Humanity, in its fallen state, often desires not only to ignore God, but to erase Him entirely.
When Pilate asked, “Shall I crucify your King?” the chief priests answered with chilling words: “We have no king but Caesar!” In this declaration, Israel’s religious leaders betrayed their deepest hypocrisy. They rejected the very Messiah who was promised to them, disowning their national hope and heritage. By rejecting the King sent by God, they pledged allegiance to a pagan tyrant. Maclaren rightly notes, “They who will not have Christ have to bow to a tyrant. Rebellion against Him brings slavery.” Their words fulfilled the tragedy of Hosea’s prophecy: “You are not My people, and I will not be your God” (Hosea 1:9).
Finally, John records: “Then he delivered Him to them to be crucified. So they took Jesus and led Him away.” Pilate, the man with worldly authority, failed his test. He had declared Jesus innocent, yet under pressure he condemned Him. In the end, it was not Jesus who stood condemned before Pilate, but Pilate who stood condemned before Jesus. His fear of losing favor with men outweighed his duty to uphold justice. The ancient Christian creeds rightly preserve this fact in history: Jesus was crucified “under Pontius Pilate.” He serves as an eternal warning of the man who knew the truth, yet lacked the courage to obey it. As Erdman observes, Pilate is a tragic example of one who compromised with evil, disobeyed his conscience, and sacrificed truth to protect his own position.
B. The Crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth
1. (John 19:17-18) Jesus is crucified.
“And He, bearing His cross, went out to a place called the Place of a Skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified Him, and two others with Him, one on either side, and Jesus in the center.”
John presents the beginning of the greatest act of redemption in history with profound simplicity. “And He, bearing His cross.” According to Roman custom, the condemned man was forced to carry the crossbeam (patibulum) from the place of sentencing to the site of execution. The upright posts were usually fixed in the ground at the place of crucifixion. This humiliating procession was meant to display the criminal publicly, warning others against rebellion. Before the Romans put a man on a cross, they first placed the cross on the man. Here the sinless Son of God carried the instrument of His death through the streets, fulfilling both Roman procedure and divine prophecy.
This image recalls Isaac, who carried the wood for his own sacrifice up Mount Moriah (Genesis 22:6). Isaac’s willing obedience foreshadowed Christ’s greater obedience, for Jesus carried not only the wood of the cross but also the burden of the world’s sin. The parallel reminds us that Calvary was no accident of history but the fulfillment of God’s eternal plan.
John records, “He went out to a place called the Place of a Skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha.” The exact location of Golgotha has been debated, but the name itself points to a place of death. Here Christ was led outside the city gate, fulfilling the pattern of the sin offering described in the Law: “For the bodies of those animals, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned outside the camp. Therefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered outside the gate” (Hebrews 13:11-12). He was cast out so that we could be brought in.
John’s brief statement, “where they crucified Him,” conveys the most terrible execution ever devised. Crucifixion was not only brutal but degrading. Originally developed by the Persians, it was perfected by the Romans as a punishment reserved for slaves, traitors, and the vilest criminals. The victim was nailed to wood in a position designed to prolong suffering. Breathing became increasingly difficult as exhaustion set in, until suffocation or cardiac failure brought death. Cicero called crucifixion “an act so abominable it is impossible to find any word adequately to express it,” and Tacitus referred to it as “a torture fit only for slaves.” Yet this was the form of death that God chose for His Son, so that He might bear the full weight of sin’s curse.
The Gospel writers give only the bare statement: “they crucified Him.” They do not indulge in graphic detail, partly because their original readers knew all too well what crucifixion entailed, but also because they did not want to stir up mere emotion. The physical torment was real, but the deepest suffering of Christ was spiritual—bearing the wrath of God against sin. Isaiah foresaw this when he wrote: “Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief. When You make His soul an offering for sin, He shall see His seed, He shall prolong His days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in His hand” (Isaiah 53:10).
John also notes, “and two others with Him, one on either side, and Jesus in the center.” This detail carries immense theological weight. Jesus literally took the place of Barabbas, the insurrectionist set free. He was crucified between two criminals, identifying Himself with sinners in His death. One thief mocked, the other repented, showing that even at the cross humanity is divided—some reject, some believe, and Jesus stands at the center. Luke records the remarkable conversion of one thief: “Then he said to Jesus, ‘Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise’” (Luke 23:42-43). Even in His agony, Jesus saved a soul at the very brink of eternity.
Theologically, Christ’s position “in the center” speaks volumes. He stood at the center of humanity, identifying with both the righteous and the wicked, the Jew and the Gentile, the rich and the poor. He stood at the center of redemptive history, the focal point of God’s plan from eternity past to eternity future. He stood between God and man, bearing the wrath of God so that man might be reconciled. And He stood at the center between the saved and the perishing, demonstrating that the dividing line of human destiny runs directly through Him. As Jesus Himself had declared: “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6).
At Calvary, the cross became the axis of history. The world mocked, the leaders scoffed, the disciples scattered, but Christ won the greatest victory of all time. As Paul wrote, “Having disarmed principalities and powers, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it” (Colossians 2:15). The crucifixion was not defeat, but triumph—Jesus was not crushed as a victim, but exalted as Victor.
2. (John 19:19-22) Pilate’s public description of Jesus and His supposed crime.
“Now Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross. And the writing was: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS. Then many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; and it was written in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin. Therefore the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but, “He said, ‘I am the King of the Jews.’”’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written, I have written.’”
As part of Roman practice, the condemned criminal carried a placard that displayed his name and crime. This title was often hung around his neck on the way to the execution site and later fastened to the cross itself. John records, “Now Pilate wrote a title and put it on the cross.” This was meant to publicly declare the charge against the condemned man, warning others not to follow the same path. For Christ, however, the “charge” was no crime at all, but the truth of His identity.
The inscription read: “JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS.” Here Pilate combined irony and truth. Jesus’ name tied Him to the obscure village of Nazareth, a place often despised by the Jews themselves. Nathaniel once asked, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” (John 1:46). Yet even in death, Jesus bore that name. At the same time, Pilate identified Him as “King of the Jews,” echoing the original charge brought against Him. Pilate likely intended this as mockery, humiliating both Jesus and the Jewish nation by showing that Rome could crucify even their so-called king. But in God’s providence, this statement became a public proclamation of the truth: Jesus truly is the King, not only of the Jews, but of all. Unlike worldly kings, He did not reign by killing His enemies but by dying for them.
This title also stood in contrast to the charges of the criminals crucified beside Him. Their placards displayed their crimes, but for Jesus the “charge” was simply His identity. No wrongdoing was listed because there was none. Even in His death, His sinlessness was proclaimed. As Peter later testified, “Who committed no sin, nor was deceit found in His mouth” (1 Peter 2:22).
John notes that “many of the Jews read this title, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city.” Roman crucifixions were intentionally public, carried out near roads or city gates so as many as possible could witness the shame of the condemned. Christ was crucified outside the city walls, fulfilling the typology of the sin offering under the Mosaic Law: “Therefore Jesus also, that He might sanctify the people with His own blood, suffered outside the gate” (Hebrews 13:12). Yet the location was still close enough that multitudes could read His title, ensuring wide publicity for this declaration of kingship.
Significantly, the title was written “in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin.” Pilate intended maximum exposure—Aramaic for the local Jews, Greek as the common trade language of the eastern Mediterranean, and Latin for the Roman officials. But beyond Pilate’s intent, this carried prophetic symbolism. The kingship of Christ would be proclaimed to every tribe, tongue, and nation. What began as a mockery became an unknowing prophecy of the Great Commission. Trapp insightfully observed that it was written “in Hebrew, for the Jews who gloried in the law; in Greek, for the Greeks who gloried in wisdom; in Latin, for the Romans who gloried in dominion and power.” In Christ crucified, all these false glories are brought low, and the glory of God revealed.
The religious leaders, however, were offended. They protested, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but, ‘He said, “I am the King of the Jews.”’” They wanted the title altered to make it a charge of blasphemy rather than a declaration of kingship. To them, the wording seemed both false and demeaning, as if Pilate had mocked their nation by presenting their king in such humiliation. But Pilate refused, answering, “What I have written, I have written.” Ironically, the governor who had caved to their demands in condemning Jesus now showed rare resolve. Though he had failed to uphold justice in the greater matter, here he stood firm in the lesser one. In doing so, Pilate unwittingly honored the truth, proclaiming Jesus as King of the Jews in a trilingual inscription that foreshadowed His reign over all the earth.
Clarke notes that once the inscription was set, Roman law forbade its alteration. This permanence symbolized, even against Pilate’s own will, the unchangeable truth of Christ’s kingship. Pilate meant it as final mockery, but God meant it as eternal proclamation. As Revelation later declares, “And He has on His robe and on His thigh a name written: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS” (Revelation 19:16).
3. (John 19:23-24) Soldiers divide Jesus’ clothing in fulfillment of prophecy.
“Then the soldiers, when they had crucified Jesus, took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic. Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece. They said therefore among themselves, ‘Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be,’ that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says: ‘They divided My garments among them, And for My clothing they cast lots.’ Therefore the soldiers did these things.”
John shifts our attention from the agony of the cross to the callous indifference of the soldiers who presided over it. A Roman crucifixion was always carried out under strict military supervision to prevent rescue attempts, to ensure order, and to confirm the death of the condemned. Once Jesus was nailed to the cross, His execution detail assumed their customary right to divide the victim’s personal belongings. John records, “they took His garments and made four parts, to each soldier a part, and also the tunic.” Thus even the last remnants of His earthly possessions were stripped from Him.
This detail underscores the total poverty Christ endured for our salvation. He who was rich with heavenly glory became utterly poor, retaining nothing—not even the clothes on His back. As Paul declared, “For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that you through His poverty might become rich” (2 Corinthians 8:9). The humiliation of Christ extended beyond physical pain; it included the shame of exposure and the loss of every earthly comfort. Some ancient sources indicate that crucifixion victims were often executed completely naked. Out of Jewish sensitivity, perhaps a loincloth was left, but the shame remained. In any case, Jesus bore the full weight of human humiliation as part of His redeeming work.
John adds an important note about the tunic: “Now the tunic was without seam, woven from the top in one piece.” This garment was too valuable to tear apart, so the soldiers decided to gamble for it rather than divide it. The seamless tunic carries symbolic meaning. In the Old Testament, the high priest wore a seamless garment: “You shall make the robe of the ephod all of blue. There shall be an opening for his head in the middle of it; it shall have a woven binding all around its opening, like the opening in a coat of mail, so that it does not tear” (Exodus 28:31-32). Jesus, our great High Priest, fulfilled the picture by wearing a tunic that remained whole. Just as His priesthood is perfect and undivided, so His garment was preserved whole even in death. The very soldiers who stripped Him naked unintentionally bore witness to His priestly office.
The soldiers said, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it, whose it shall be.” In their thoughtless gambling, they fulfilled Scripture. Psalm 22, written a thousand years earlier, prophetically described the crucifixion: “They divide My garments among them, And for My clothing they cast lots” (Psalm 22:18). As the Son of God was suffering for the sins of the world, men beneath His cross played games, utterly indifferent to the eternal significance of what was happening above them. Their petty greed and cruel sport contrast sharply with Christ’s sacrificial love.
This moment reminds us of the hardness of the human heart. The soldiers, who should have been struck with awe at the dignity of the One they crucified, instead distracted themselves with a game of chance. Even at Calvary, prophecy was being fulfilled down to the smallest detail, proving again that Christ’s death was no accident of history but the sovereign plan of God. Every stitch of the narrative reveals His obedience to the Father’s will and the exact fulfillment of Scripture.
4. (John 19:25-27) Jesus entrusts His mother into John’s care.
“Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, ‘Woman, behold your son!’ Then He said to the disciple, ‘Behold your mother!’ And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.”
John paints a scene of deep grief and yet tender love. “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother.” Of all the human anguish at Calvary, Mary’s suffering was perhaps the most profound. She watched her Son endure public humiliation, physical agony, and a cursed death. Long before, Simeon had prophesied this moment when he told Mary, “Yes, a sword will pierce through your own soul also” (Luke 2:35). From Jesus’ rejection to the plots against His life, Mary had already felt the edges of that sword. But here, at the cross, it fully pierced her heart. No earthly sorrow compares to a mother watching the brutal death of her innocent child, and Mary bore this sorrow silently, standing near the cross.
Alongside her were other faithful women: “His mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.” These women, though powerless to stop the crucifixion, honored Jesus with their presence. Mary Magdalene, once delivered from seven demons, remained loyal to the end. Mary the wife of Clopas stood with Christ in His humiliation and was later privileged to be among the first witnesses of His resurrection. Faithful women were present at His death, His burial, and His empty tomb. Their quiet devotion contrasts with the fearful absence of most of the disciples.
John then introduces himself in humble fashion: “the disciple whom He loved.” This phrase occurs four times in his Gospel (John 13:23; 19:26; 21:7; 21:20). By refusing to name himself, John magnified Christ’s love rather than his own importance. He wanted his identity to be defined not by his name, but by the love of his Master. His presence at the cross testifies to his courage; though most disciples fled, John remained near his Lord. Later, he would testify: “And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe” (John 19:35).
From the cross, Jesus demonstrated His unchanging concern for others. “Woman, behold your son!” He addressed Mary not as “Mother” but as “Woman.” This was not disrespectful but respectful, as “Woman” was a formal address in that culture, much like “Madam” in English. Jesus’ choice of words may also have shielded Mary from greater pain, since hearing “Mother” from her dying Son would have pierced her even more deeply. Jesus shifted Mary’s focus from her dying Son to the living disciple beside her.
Turning to John, He said, “Behold your mother!” With these words, Jesus established a new family bond. Even in His agony, He cared for Mary’s future. Though Mary had other children (Matthew 13:55-56), Jesus entrusted her to John. This may have been because His brothers did not yet believe in Him (John 7:5), because John was the only disciple at the cross, or because John was destined to outlive the others and would thus be able to care for Mary the longest. Whatever the reason, Jesus showed His wisdom, love, and foresight.
Theologically, this moment demonstrates that spiritual relationships in Christ surpass even blood ties. Jesus once declared, “For whoever does the will of My Father in heaven is My brother and sister and mother” (Matthew 12:50). Here, He applied that truth in practice. Mary was given not to her other sons, but to a disciple who believed. The Church becomes the true family of God, united not by bloodlines but by faith in Christ.
John responded with immediate obedience: “And from that hour that disciple took her to his own home.” No elaborate instruction was required; the word of Jesus was enough. Spurgeon beautifully noted that Christ did not need to command, “Take care of My mother.” The relationship itself carried the command, and John acted upon it without hesitation. This simple obedience illustrates that when Christ reorders our relationships, duty naturally flows from love.
At Calvary, Jesus was not only accomplishing redemption; He was also tending to the needs of His people. Even while bearing the sins of the world, He remembered His mother, cared for His disciple, and demonstrated that His kingdom is built upon love, responsibility, and obedience.
5. (John 19:28-30) Jesus’ great proclamation and death.
“After this, Jesus, knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, said, ‘I thirst!’ Now a vessel full of sour wine was sitting there; and they filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth. So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, ‘It is finished!’ And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.”
John emphasizes that Jesus approached His death with full knowledge and divine intention. “Knowing that all things were now accomplished” points us to the completed work of redemption. The life of obedience, the bearing of wrath, the satisfaction of divine justice—all had been fulfilled. Earlier in His ministry Jesus spoke of this moment: “But I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how distressed I am till it is accomplished!” (Luke 12:50). That baptism was now complete. At the cross, the One who knew no sin became sin for us, that in Him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). The wrath of God was fully poured out, and the Son bore it without reserve.
Then Jesus said, “I thirst!” This was the only expression of physical suffering recorded by John. Earlier, Jesus refused a pain-deadening mixture (Mark 15:23), but now He accepted a drink of sour wine, not to dull His senses, but to moisten His lips and throat so He could declare His final words clearly and loudly. Spurgeon noted the wonder of this statement: thirst is the most common of human miseries, shared by beggars and kings alike. In thirst, Christ revealed His full identification with humanity, even in the most ordinary pangs of suffering. Beyond this, thirst recalls the curse of Eden: appetite was the door through which sin entered, and here the Second Adam bore its consequences.
The vessel of sour wine nearby was likely the common ration of the soldiers. John adds a striking detail: “they filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on hyssop, and put it to His mouth.” Hyssop carried deep symbolism for the Jews. It was with hyssop that the blood of the Passover lamb was applied to the doorposts in Egypt (Exodus 12:22). That same plant was now lifted to the lips of the true Passover Lamb, whose blood would secure eternal deliverance. Even in this small act, Scripture was fulfilled, reminding us that every detail of Christ’s suffering was according to God’s sovereign plan.
Having received the sour wine, Jesus cried out: “It is finished!” In Greek, the single word tetelestai thundered from His lips with victorious finality. This was not the cry of defeat, resignation, or despair, but the triumphant proclamation of a Conqueror. Spurgeon rightly said, “It was a Conqueror’s cry; it was uttered with a loud voice. There is nothing of anguish about it, there is no wailing in it. It is the cry of One who has completed a tremendous labor.” The term was often used in commercial contexts to signify “paid in full.” The debt of sin was canceled; the work of atonement was accomplished; the justice of God was satisfied.
With this cry, all the types, promises, and sacrifices of the Old Covenant found their fulfillment. The entire sacrificial system, stretching back to Abel’s offering, pointed to this moment. No more lambs needed to be slain, for the true Lamb had come. The law’s demands were met, the prophecies fulfilled, Satan’s power defeated, sin atoned for, and death disarmed. As Paul declared: “Having wiped out the handwriting of requirements that was against us, which was contrary to us. And He has taken it out of the way, having nailed it to the cross. Having disarmed principalities and powers, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them in it” (Colossians 2:14-15).
John then writes, “And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit.” This was no ordinary death. Crucifixion victims usually died with heads rigidly upright, collapsing only at the final breath. But Jesus bowed His head in peace, like one laying it down upon a pillow to sleep. The phrase recalls His earlier words: “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head” (Matthew 8:20). At last, on the cross, He laid His head to rest.
Finally, “He gave up His spirit.” Death did not overpower Him; He willingly surrendered His life. As He had already declared, “Therefore My Father loves Me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again. No one takes it from Me, but I lay it down of Myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. This command I have received from My Father” (John 10:17-18). The sinless Son could not die unless He chose to yield His spirit. His life was not taken but given, an act of sovereign authority and loving obedience. Even pagan historians of the first centuries noticed this uniqueness, recording His crucifixion as the defining mark of His life. His death, voluntary and victorious, was the most important act of the most important life ever lived.
C. Immediately after the death of Jesus by crucifixion
1. (John 19:31-32) The need to remove the bodies from their crosses.
“Therefore, because it was the Preparation Day, that the bodies should not remain on the cross on the Sabbath (for that Sabbath was a high day), the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who was crucified with Him.”
John again highlights the context of timing: “because it was the Preparation Day.” This refers to the day before the Sabbath, when the Jews made necessary arrangements so they could cease from work and observe God’s command. Here, however, John emphasizes that it was not an ordinary Sabbath but a “high day,” being associated with Passover week. This reminder also recalls the earlier chronological questions noted in John 18:28 and John 19:14. Whatever exact reckoning one adopts, John’s theological point is unmistakable: the true Passover Lamb had been slain at the appointed time.
The Jewish leaders were deeply concerned that “the bodies should not remain on the cross on the Sabbath.” Ordinarily, crucified men were left hanging for days, their decaying bodies serving as a grotesque warning of Rome’s power. Yet Jewish law considered it a defilement to leave a body exposed overnight. Moses had commanded: “If a man has committed a sin deserving of death, and he is put to death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain overnight on the tree, but you shall surely bury him that day, so that you do not defile the land which the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance; for he who is hanged is accursed of God” (Deuteronomy 21:22-23). The irony is glaring. These leaders had no qualms about murdering the sinless Son of God, but their consciences were “greatly moved” by the possibility of ceremonial pollution before the Sabbath. Spurgeon observed well, “Religious scruples may live in a dead conscience.”
Therefore, “the Jews asked Pilate that their legs might be broken.” This request was not born of mercy but expedience. Breaking the legs (crurifragium) hastened death by suffocation. A crucified man relied on the strength of his legs to push upward, relieving pressure on his chest and enabling him to breathe. Once the legs were broken, he could no longer draw sufficient breath, and death quickly followed. Tenney explains: “If the legs were broken, he could not possibly do so; and death would follow shortly because of lack of oxygen.” Thus, the religious leaders sought to combine their Sabbath sensitivities with the brutal efficiency of Rome.
John then records: “Then the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first and of the other who was crucified with Him.” These hardened men carried out the task without hesitation, likely using a heavy club or iron bar to shatter the bones. Dods notes: “To secure speedy death the crucifragium, breaking of the legs with a heavy mallet or bar, was sometimes resorted to: as without such means the crucified might in some cases linger for thirty-six hours.” The procedure was horrific—an additional act of cruelty inflicted on men already suffering beyond endurance. Yet even in this brutality, prophecy was moving toward fulfillment, for the Lamb of God was to remain unbroken, in accordance with the law of Passover sacrifice (Exodus 12:46).
The archaeological record confirms this gruesome practice. The skeletal remains of a crucified man discovered in Jerusalem in 1968 bore evidence of such a procedure: one leg showed a clean fracture, likely from a single crushing blow. This corroborates the Gospel accounts, grounding them in historical fact.
Spurgeon insightfully reflected on the penitent thief who was promised paradise by Christ: “The penitent thief entered into Paradise that very day, but it was not without suffering; say, rather, that the terrible stroke was the actual means of the prompt fulfillment of his Lord’s promise to him.” That final blow of Roman cruelty sent the believing thief more swiftly into the eternal presence of the Savior who hung beside him.
2. (John 19:33-34) The confirmation of the death of Jesus of Nazareth.
“But when they came to Jesus and saw that He was already dead, they did not break His legs. But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and immediately blood and water came out.”
When the soldiers came to Jesus, “they saw that He was already dead.” These were men trained and experienced in executions. Roman soldiers had no margin for error in their duties, for to fail in execution could mean their own lives. They knew how to recognize death upon the cross. Their professional judgment confirmed what John witnessed: Jesus was already dead. This fact silences those who claim that Jesus merely swooned or fainted on the cross. Mark adds further testimony: “Pilate marveled that He was already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him if He had been dead for some time. So when he found out from the centurion, he granted the body to Joseph” (Mark 15:44-45). The centurion’s confirmation gave legal authority to the burial, and more importantly, added weight to the truth that Christ truly died.
Instead of breaking His legs, as was done to the others, “one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear.” This soldier acted to ensure death, thrusting his spear upward into Jesus’ side. Dods observed that the wound was so large Thomas later said, “Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). The soldier’s thrust was likely meant as a final, fatal blow. Yet in doing so, he unknowingly fulfilled multiple prophecies. The Passover lamb was not to have its bones broken (Exodus 12:46; Psalm 34:20), and the piercing of Messiah was foretold: “They will look on Me whom they pierced” (Zechariah 12:10). What was ordinary military procedure became divine fulfillment.
John adds: “Immediately blood and water came out.” This striking detail confirmed beyond doubt that Jesus was dead. Physicians have suggested that this points to a ruptured heart or pericardial sac, in which blood and a watery fluid collect. When pierced, these separate substances would flow out distinctly, resembling “blood and water.” Whether explained naturally or supernaturally, the eyewitness testimony stands sure. John later stressed: “And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe” (John 19:35).
This flow of blood and water carried theological significance. Hymn writer Augustus Toplady captured it in Rock of Ages:
“Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Cleanse me from its guilt and power.”
Blood and water are frequently paired in Scripture as symbols of atonement and cleansing. Under the Old Covenant, both were used in purification rituals—the blood for forgiveness, the water for cleansing. Spurgeon observed, “Take all the types of the Old Testament together, and you will gather this, that the purification of sin was typically set forth by blood and water. Blood was conspicuous always, you have no remission of sin without it: but water was exceedingly prominent also.” At the cross, both elements flowed from Christ Himself, the fulfillment of every type and shadow.
Spurgeon also drew a parallel to Adam. When Adam slept, God opened his side and brought forth Eve, the bride who became his companion. In the same way, Christ “slept” in death, and from His pierced side came forth His bride, the Church, purchased by His blood and cleansed by His Spirit. Thus, the blood and water not only testified to His physical death, but also to the birth of His spiritual people.
3. (John 19:35-37) John’s solemn assurance; the fulfillment of Scripture.
“And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe. For these things were done that the Scripture should be fulfilled, ‘Not one of His bones shall be broken.’ And again another Scripture says, ‘They shall look on Him whom they pierced.’”
John pauses in the narrative to emphasize the certainty of what he has reported: “And he who has seen has testified, and his testimony is true; and he knows that he is telling the truth, so that you may believe.” As an eyewitness, John personally observed the events of Christ’s crucifixion, including the piercing of His side and the flow of blood and water. He knew his testimony was true, and he affirmed it with solemnity, not to magnify himself, but “so that you may believe.” The goal of the Gospel, and particularly of John’s eyewitness account, is faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing we may have life in His name (John 20:31).
The mention of blood and water (John 19:34) profoundly impacted John. Later in his first epistle he wrote: “This is He who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not only by water, but by water and blood. And it is the Spirit who bears witness, because the Spirit is truth” (1 John 5:6). While commentators debate whether John was referring to Jesus’ baptism and crucifixion, or specifically to the blood and water that flowed from His side, the connection is clear: John regarded these details as vital to the testimony of Christ’s person and work. They bore witness to His true humanity, His true death, and His provision for both cleansing (water) and atonement (blood).
John reminds us that belief is anchored in the details of Christ’s death. Each part of the crucifixion account directs us to faith:
The innocence of Jesus, repeatedly affirmed by Pilate.
His dignity and silence under suffering.
The manner of His death by crucifixion, fulfilling prophecy.
The inscription above His cross declaring Him “King of the Jews.”
The soldiers casting lots for His garment.
His tender provision for His mother.
His victorious cry, “It is finished!”
His peaceful yielding up of His spirit.
The certainty of His death, confirmed by soldiers.
Each element compels us to believe not in myth or legend, but in the real and finished work of the Son of God.
John then declares, “For these things were done that the Scripture should be fulfilled, ‘Not one of His bones shall be broken.’” This prophecy finds its roots in the Passover law: “In one house it shall be eaten; you shall not carry any of the flesh outside the house, nor shall you break one of its bones” (Exodus 12:46). The Passover lamb, God’s appointed symbol of deliverance, was to be kept whole. This was reiterated in the law of sacrifices (Numbers 9:12) and in David’s psalm: “He guards all his bones; not one of them is broken” (Psalm 34:20). Though Roman soldiers had every intention of breaking Jesus’ legs, they found Him already dead. Thus, the Lamb of God was preserved intact, a perfect and complete sacrifice. What appeared to be an arbitrary decision by soldiers was in reality the sovereign hand of God guiding history to fulfill His Word.
John continues: “And again another Scripture says, ‘They shall look on Him whom they pierced.’” This refers to Zechariah 12:10, which looks forward to Israel’s future repentance: “And I will pour on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem the Spirit of grace and supplication; then they will look on Me whom they pierced. Yes, they will mourn for Him as one mourns for his only son, and grieve for Him as one grieves for a firstborn.” At Calvary, the piercing was fulfilled historically by the soldier’s spear. Yet the prophecy stretches forward to the day when Israel as a nation will behold the risen Christ and repent in mourning and faith at His return. As Trench observed, the piercing has already occurred, but the looking with mourning and supplication lies yet in the future.
Thus, John presents the crucifixion not merely as history but as prophecy fulfilled. The cross was the intersection of human wickedness and divine sovereignty. The soldiers acted freely, yet every detail unfolded according to God’s eternal plan. The unbroken bones and the pierced side stand as unchangeable witnesses that Jesus is the true Passover Lamb, slain for our salvation.
4. (John 19:38-42) Jesus is lovingly buried by two hesitant disciples.
“After this, Joseph of Arimathea, being a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews, asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus; and Pilate gave him permission. So he came and took the body of Jesus. And Nicodemus, who at first came to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds. Then they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in strips of linen with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury. Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So there they laid Jesus, because of the Jews’ Preparation Day, for the tomb was nearby.”
John introduces Joseph of Arimathea, describing him as “a disciple of Jesus, but secretly, for fear of the Jews.” Up to this moment, Joseph’s discipleship had been hidden, constrained by his fear of the Sanhedrin and the threat of excommunication. Yet at the cross, God stirred his heart to boldness. In one of the darkest hours of history, Joseph stepped forward to claim the body of Jesus. This highlights an important truth: when the eleven apostles fled and public faith seemed lost, God raised up unlikely disciples to perform this final act of devotion. Luke notes that Joseph was “a good and just man” (Luke 23:50) who had not consented to the council’s decision. His courage at this moment reveals that God’s purposes will never fail, even when human faith falters.
Joseph “asked Pilate that he might take away the body of Jesus; and Pilate gave him permission.” This request was extraordinary. Typically, crucified criminals were left on their crosses to decay or to be eaten by scavengers, a final disgrace meant to terrorize the living. Dods notes: “The Roman custom was to leave the body to birds and beasts of prey.” But Pilate, perhaps moved by his own uneasy conscience and the brevity of Jesus’ suffering, granted the request. What was intended as humiliation became an opportunity for honor. God overruled man’s cruelty to preserve the body of His Son.
John then introduces a second figure: Nicodemus, who at first came to Jesus by night. Once timid, Nicodemus now emerged into the light, carrying “a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about a hundred pounds.” Such a lavish amount was fit for royalty. Indeed, Jesus was buried like a king, though crucified as a criminal. The two wealthy rulers—Joseph providing the tomb, Nicodemus providing the spices—fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy: “And they made His grave with the wicked—But with the rich at His death” (Isaiah 53:9). God orchestrated even the details of His Son’s burial so that no Scripture remained unfulfilled.
John says: “Then they took the body of Jesus, and bound it in strips of linen with the spices, as the custom of the Jews is to bury.” Remarkably, Joseph and Nicodemus appear to have done the work themselves. Wealthy men would normally delegate such grim tasks to servants, yet these rulers of the Jews personally handled the broken body of their Lord. Imagine the scene: they carefully removed the thorns from His head, cleansed the wounds from scourging, examined the marks of nails, and saw the gaping wound in His side. Every detail etched into their memory testified that He was truly dead. The fragrance of those burial spices would forever remind them of this solemn moment.
This burial was crucial in the plan of God. Paul included it as an essential component of the gospel: “For I delivered to you first of all that which I also received: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4). The burial fulfilled prophecy, demonstrated the reality of His death, and prepared the stage for the triumph of resurrection. It also preserved His body from decay in fulfillment of Psalm 16:10: “For You will not leave my soul in Sheol, nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption.”
John concludes: “Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid. So there they laid Jesus, because of the Jews’ Preparation Day, for the tomb was nearby.” Matthew tells us this was Joseph’s own tomb (Matthew 27:60), carved into solid rock, sealed with a heavy stone. The fact that “no one had yet been laid” in it eliminated any doubt that another body could be confused with Jesus’. Spurgeon observed, “If they buried him in an old tomb, the Jews would say that he had touched the bones of some prophet or other holy man, and so came to life.” God ensured that Christ’s resurrection would be unmistakable.
There is also a profound theological contrast in John’s detail that the tomb was in a garden. Humanity’s ruin began in a garden, where Adam disobeyed and fell. Redemption was secured in another garden, where the second Adam was buried in death so that He might rise in victory. What Adam lost, Christ restored.
