Three forms of corporal punishment were employed by the Romans, in increasing degree of severity: (1) fustigatio (beating), (2) flagellatio (flogging), and (3) verberatio (severe flogging, scourging). The first could be on occasion a punishment in itself, but the more severe forms were part of the capital sentence as a prelude to crucifixion. The most severe, verberatio, is what is indicated here by the Greek verb translated flogged severely (μαστιγόω, mastigoō). People died on occasion while being flogged this way; frequently it was severe enough to rip a person’s body open or cut muscle and sinew to the bone. It was carried out with a whip that had fragments of bone or pieces of metal bound into the tips.

The soldiers broke the legs of the living victims to hasten death. The only way a crucified man could obtain a full breath of air was to raise himself by means of his legs to ease the tension on his arms and chest muscles. If the legs were broken, he could not possibly do so; and death would follow shortly because of lack of oxygen.

He connected it with OT prophecy. The bones of the Passover lamb Were left unbroken (Exod 12:46), and the divine protection of a righteous man guarantees that God “protects all his bones, not one of them will be broken” (Ps 34:20. The prophetic significance of the pierced side is referred to in Zechariah 12:10,

Because Jesus cried, “It is finished,” and gave up his spirit, we now shout, “Hallelujah!” and receive his Spirit. Everything promised—everything needful for our redemption and for the coming “new world” (Matt. 19:28), was accomplished. Nothing was left undone.

19:18 crucified Him. Jesus was made to lie on the ground while his arms were stretched out and nailed to the horizontal beam that he carried. The beam was then hoisted up, along with the victim, and fastened to the vertical beam. His feet were nailed to the vertical beam to which sometimes was attached a piece of wood that served as a kind of seat that partially supported the weight of the body. The latter, however, was designed to prolong and increase the agony, not relieve it. Having been stripped naked and beaten, Jesus could hang in the hot sun for hours if not days. To breathe, it was necessary to push with the legs and pull with the arms, creating excruciating pain. Terrible muscle spasms wracked the entire body; but since collapse meant asphyxiation, the struggle for life continued (see note on Matt. 27:31). two others. Matthew (27:38) and Luke (23:33) use the same word for these two as John used for Barabbas, i.e., guerrilla fighters. See note on 18:40.

The delinquent was stripped, bound to a post or a pillar, or sometimes simply thrown on the ground, and beaten by a number of torturers until the latter grew tired and the flesh of the delinquent hung in bleeding shreds. In the provinces this was the task of the soldiers. Three kinds of implements were customary. Rods were used on freemen; military punishments were inflected with sticks, but for slaves scourges or whips were used, the leather thongs of these being often fitted with a spike or with several pieces of bone or lead joined to form a chain. The scourging of Jesus was carried out with these last-named instruments. It is not surprising to hear that delinquents frequently collapsed and died under this procedure which only in exceptional cases was prescribed as a death sentence. Josephus records that he himself had some of his opponents in the Galilean Tarichae scourged until their entrails were visible. The case of Jesus bar Hanan, the prophet of woe, whom the procurator Albinus had scourged until his bones lay bare … also makes one realize what the little word phragellosas [to scourge] in Mark 15:15 means.

While this is a dreadful and chilling description, it correctly portrays the dire condition Jesus is in as he is prepared for his walk to Golgotha (19:17). He is bleeding profusely, his clothes are soaked in blood, his thorn-laced crown now digs deeply and painfully into his head, and he is nearly in shock. Jesus carries the cross himself for a good while (19:17a), but according to the Synoptics, his condition becomes so severe that he cannot carry it all the way to the site. A man named Simon, a visitor from North African Cyrene (in present-day Libya), must carry it for him. Visitors watching on the Via Dolorosa (“The Way of Suffering”) would have seen a stunning spectacle and a roadway running with blood.

Scourging was terrible. Many died from it, and others went mad. Ancient authorities as diverse as Eusebius, Josephus, and Cicero relate that scourging normally meant a flaying to the bone.

Some ribs were exposed. Add to this the prophetic words of Isaiah 52:14: “His appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man and his form marred beyond human likeness.” The soldiers had hit him in the face with the mock scepter until his features were unrecognizable.

the help of the Roman soldiers, took Jesus to be crucified. “It was the most cruel and shameful of all punishments,” said the Roman statesman-philosopher Cicero. “Let it never come near the body of a Roman citizen; nay, not even near his thoughts or eyes or ears.”

Jesus began the mile-long walk carrying His cross, but He was relieved by Simon of Cyrene whom the Roman soldiers “drafted” to do the job.

Jesus began the mile-long walk carrying His cross, but He was relieved by Simon of Cyrene whom the Roman soldiers “drafted” to do the job.

Modern executions are usually carried out in almost clinical privacy, but Jesus was nailed to a cross and hung up for everyone to see. It was Passover season and there were thousands of visitors in the city. The place of execution was outside the city where many people would pass. Jesus was a well-known figure, so His arrest and condemnation would be topics for discussion. It was natural for people to gather and watch the grim scene.

Crucifixion probably had its origin among the Persians and Phoenicians, but it was the Romans who made special use of it. No Roman citizen could be crucified, though there were exceptions. This mode of capital punishment was reserved for the lowest kind of criminals, particularly those who promoted insurrection. Today, we think of the cross as a symbol of glory and victory; but in Pilate’s day, the cross stood for the basest kind of rejection, shame, and suffering. It was Jesus who made the difference

In the provinces, soldiers normally administered this punishment. Free Romans were beaten with rods, soldiers with sticks, but slaves and probably despised non-Romans with whips whose leather thongs enclosed sharp pieces of metal or bone. Jewish law allowed only thirty-nine lashes; Roman law allowed scourging till the soldier grew tired, and texts report that bones or entrails were sometimes bared.

The “purple robe” that the soldiers put on Jesus may have been a faded scarlet lictor’s robe or an old rug.

Condemned criminals normally carried their own cross (the horizontal beam, the patibulum, not the upright stake) to the site of the execution; the victim was usually stripped naked for the procession and execution as well, although this full nakedness must have offended some Jewish sensibilities in Palestine.

it was customary to execute the condemned man naked.

19:31–33. Those bound with ropes often survived on the cross several days. The dying man could rest himself on a wooden seat (Latin sedile) in the middle of the cross. This support allowed him to breathe—and prolonged the agony of his death. When the soldiers needed to hasten death by asphyxiation, they would break the legs of the victims with iron clubs so they could no longer push themselves up; the skeleton of a crucified Jewish man recovered in 1968 confirms this practice attested in ancient literature. Romans would have allowed the bodies to rot on the cross, but Deuteronomy 21:23 and Jewish sensitivities about the sabbath require that these executions be speeded up, and Romans accommodated Jewish wishes particularly during the crowded festivals. (Josephus declares that Jewish people always buried crucifixion victims before sunset.)

Jewish tradition required certification that a person was dead before the person could be treated as dead, but Jewish observers would not treat the body as disrespectfully as this Roman does.

A foot soldier was armed with a short sword and a pilum, or lance; the pilum was of light wood with an iron head, and was about three and a half feet long. Such a lance could easily penetrate the pericardial sac which surrounds and protects the heart and contains watery fluid. A Greek might read this description as referring to a demigod, because Greek gods had ichor (which looked like water) instead of blood. But the person who has read the Gospel from start to finish would see in it a symbol rooted in Old Testament and Jewish hopes; see comment on 7:37–39.

Scourging was a horribly cruel act in which the victim was stripped, tied to a post and beaten by several torturers, i.e., soldiers who alternated when exhausted. For victims who were not Roman citizens, the preferred instrument was a short wooden handle to which several leather thongs were attached. Each leather thong had pieces of bones or metal on the end. The beatings were so savage that sometimes victims died. The body could be torn or lacerated to such an extent that muscles, veins or bones were exposed. Such flogging often preceded execution in order to weaken and dehumanize the victim (Is. 53:5). Apparently, however, Pilate intended this to create sympathy for Jesus.

19:2 crown of thorns. This “crown” was made from the long spikes (up to 12 inches) of a date palm formed into an imitation of the radiating crowns which oriental kings wore. The long thorns would have cut deeply into Jesus’ head, adding to the pain and bleeding. purple robe. The color represented royalty. The robe probably was a military cloak flung around Jesus’ shoulders, intended to mock His claim to be King of the Jews.

in a few strokes would strip the flesh from a man’s back. Frequently death followed immediately so that the victim did not survive for crucifixion. Evidently Pilate intended to make an appeal to the sympathy of the mob, in hope that they would be satisfied with the scourging and would call for Jesus’ release.

To the Jews, Jesus’ claim was the height of sacrilege. For Pilate, however, it had a different meaning. In pagan mythology the Olympian deities frequently consorted with men and women, and their semi-divine offspring, such as Hercules, had appeared on the earth and performed miraculous deeds. Hardened as he was, Pilate feared lest he should offend one of these visitors. His further questioning of Jesus was an attempt to ascertain who Jesus was. If Jesus really was a supernatural being, Pilate did not wish to be responsible for mistreating him. Divine judgment would certainly be the inevitable consequence.

We see the physical courage of Jesus. Pilate had him scourged. When a man was scourged, he was tied to a whipping-post in such a way that his back was fully exposed. The lash was a long leather thong, studded at intervals with pellets of lead and sharpened pieces of bone. It literally tore a man’s back into strips. Few remained conscious throughout the ordeal; some died; and many went raving mad.

Bringing Jesus to Pilate’s praetorium involved problems for ‘the Jews’: to avoid ceremonial uncleanness the Jews did not enter the palace; they wanted to be able to eat the Passover. To enter a Gentile house was believed to cause ritual uncleanness, which would prevent them eating Passover. The Mishnah says, ‘the dwelling places of gentiles are unclean’, a footnote adding ‘because they throw abortions down their drains’ (’Ohalot 18:7). To enter a Gentile house, then, could mean contamination because of a dead body. Contamination of this sort rendered one unclean for seven days, and would prevent ‘the Jews’ participating in Passover that evening. For this reason they did not enter the palace/praetorium. There is a terrible irony here. ‘The Jews’ were being scrupulously careful not to contract ritual uncleanness, while making themselves guilty of a far worse crime: seeking the death of an innocent man.

‘No, not him! Give us Barabbas!’ The evangelist explains, Now Barabbas had taken part in a rebellion. In Matthew 27:16 Barabbas is described as a ‘notorious prisoner’ and in Mark 15:7 as one who ‘was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising’. Pilate probably thought the crowd would choose Jesus over Barabbas, and so he could release Jesus and be finished with the matter. But as Matthew 27:20/Mark 15:11 points out, the chief priests and the elders incited the crowd to ask for Barabbas, not Jesus. This is ironic, for the chief priests and elders had no sympathy for insurrectionists, because they jeopardized the status quo with the Romans; yet still they asked for Barabbas instead of Jesus. Having come off second best in this episode of challenge and riposte with ‘the Jews’, Pilate was left with the problem of Jesus.

The death of Jesus Christ is a major theme in the Gospel of John. It was announced by John the Baptist even before Jesus had officially begun His ministry (John 1:29, 35–36). Our Lord’s first mention is in John 3:14, where the image is certainly that of crucifixion (and see John 8:28; 12:32). Jesus often spoke of “taking up the cross” (Matt. 10:38; 16:24). After Peter’s confession of faith, Jesus clearly announced that He would be killed (Matt. 16:21), and later He told the disciples that He would be crucified (Matt. 20:17–19).

In John’s Gospel, you find a number of pictures of our Lord’s death: the slaying of the lamb (John 1:29); the destroying of the temple (John 2:19); the lifting up of the serpent (John 3:14); the shepherd laying down his life for the sheep (John 10:11–18); and the planting of the seed in the ground (John 12:20–25). These pictures make it clear that Jesus’ death was not an accident; it was a divine appointment. He was not murdered in the strictest sense: He willingly gave His life for us. His death was an atonement, not just an example. He actually accomplished the work of redemption on the cross.

The three stages of the Roman trial were: the first appearance before Pilate (John 18:28–38), the appearance before Herod (Luke 23:6–12), and the second appearance before Pilate (John 18:39–19:16; and see Matt. 27:15–26; Mark 15:6–15; and Luke 23:13–25). As you can see, the Apostle John records only the interrogations by Annas and Pilate, and mentions Caiaphas only in passing. He focuses primarily on the Roman trial. By the time he wrote this Gospel, the Jewish nation had been scattered by Rome, Jerusalem had been destroyed, and Roman power was all that really mattered.

At least three times he announced that Jesus was not guilty of any crime (Luke 23:14; John 19:4; Luke 23:22; John 19:6). Yet he refused to release Him!

An ossuary unearthed near Jerusalem in Giv‘at ha-Mivtar revealed the only known instance of the skeleton of a man who had been crucified. It showed that the feet had been nailed sideways to the cross whereas the body had been facing forward. Such a position would create a twist of about ninety degrees at the waist. The unnatural position, growing thirst, exposure to the weather, some loss of blood, and impaired breathing contributed to bring about a lingering and painful death. The tension on the arms prevented normal breathing, which caused the lungs to slowly fill with moisture. The victim drowned slowly by internal accumulation of fluid. The action of the heart was seriously affected. Frequently a crucified man might live as long as thirty-six hours, or even longer in an increasing agony, unless by exhaustion or dementia he finally lapsed into unconsciousness. Crucifixion was probably the most diabolical form of death ever invented. Paul, in writing of the humiliation of Christ, says, “He humbled himself and became obedient to [the point of] death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:8, italics mine). Paul’s statement reveals the feeling toward death by this method. Death for Jesus was unbelievable, but crucifixion was unthinkable.

In Gethsemane, as he contemplated what he was to undergo, he repeatedly cast himself to the ground in agonizing prayer and suffered the rare but medically documented phenomenon of hematidrosis, or blood sweat. Under great emotional strain, the tiny capillaries in his sweat glands burst, mixing his blood with his sweat.

At the place of execution Christ was laid upon the patibulum. Quickly spikes were driven through his hands or wrists, and then the crossbar was hoisted into place. His legs dangled until they were nailed, leaving only enough flex in the knees so he could begin the horrible up and down motion necessary to keep breathing. (The medical assessments of the rhythmic misery are extremely gruesome, so we will not include them here.)

Scourging was a hideously cruel form of punishment. The victim was stripped, bound to a post, and beaten by several torturers in turn. Jewish law set the maximum number of blows at forty (Deut. 25:3), and in practice the Jews gave a maximum of thirty-nine (to avoid accidently exceeding forty blows; cf. 2 Cor. 11:24). The Romans, however, were not bound by any such restrictions. The punishment would continue until the torturers were exhausted, the commanding officer decided to stop it, or, as was often the case, the victim died. The whip consisted of a short wooden handle to which several leather thongs, each with jagged pieces of bone or metal attached to the end, were fastened. As a result, the body could be so torn and lacerated that the muscles, bones, veins, or even internal organs were exposed. So horrible was this punishment that Roman citizens were exempt from it (cf. Acts 22:25). The scourging He endured left Jesus too weak to carry the crosspiece of His cross all the way to the execution site (Matt. 27:32). Pilate hoped that this brutalizing of Jesus short of death would satisfy the bloodthirsty mob.

Crucifixion was regarded as the most horrible, shameful form of execution, one reserved for slaves, bandits, prisoners of war, and insurrectionists. It was such a terrible punishment that no Roman citizen could be crucified except by authorization of the emperor himself (Andreas J. Köstenberger, John, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament [Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004], 543). Crucifixion originated in Persia, and had come down to the Romans through the Phoenicians and Carthaginians. The Romans had perfected the art of prolonging the victim’s agony as he was slowly tortured to death. Most hung on their crosses for days, before succumbing to exhaustion, dehydration, shock, or suffocation, when the victim could no longer raise himself into a position where he could breathe.

John, however, like the writers of the Synoptic Gospels (Matt. 27:35; Mark 15:24; Luke 23:33), does not dwell on the Lord’s physical suffering. Instead of describing the process of crucifixion in gruesome detail, John simply states, There they crucified Him. The infinitely greater suffering for Jesus lay in His bearing sin and being separated from the Father (Matt. 27:46).

If we want to see how much God loves us, “Behold, the Man!” Observe Christ headed for the cross, and hear him as he bears our sins: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is how we are loved. Only the resolution and control of divinity could have accomplished this.

All Roman provinces were divided into two classes. Those which required troops stationed in them were in the direct control of the emperor and were imperial provinces; those which did not require troops, but were peaceful and trouble-free, were in the direct control of the senate and were senatorial provinces.

Palestine was obviously a troubled land; it needed troops and therefore it was in the control of the emperor. Really great provinces were governed by either a proconsul or a legate; Syria was like that. Smaller provinces of the second class were governed by a procurator. He was in full control of the military and judicial administration of the province. He visited every part of the province at least once a year and heard cases and complaints. He superintended the ingathering of taxes but had no authority to increase them. He was paid a salary from the treasury and was strictly forbidden to accept either presents or bribes; and, if he exceeded his duties, the people of his province had power to report him to the emperor.

It was a procurator that Augustus appointed to control the affairs of Palestine, and the first one took over in AD 6. Pilate took over in AD 26 and remained in office until AD 35. Palestine was a province bristling with problems, one which required a firm and a strong and a wise hand. We do not know Pilate’s previous history, but we do know that he must have had the reputation of being a good administrator or he would never have been given the responsible position of governing Palestine. It had to be kept in order, for, as a glance at the map will show, it was the bridge between Egypt and Syria.

But, as governor, Pilate was a failure. He seemed to begin with a complete contempt and a complete lack of sympathy for the Jews. Three famous, or infamous, incidents marked his career.

The first occurred on his first visit to Jerusalem. Jerusalem was not the capital of the province; its headquarters were at Caesarea. But the procurator paid many visits to Jerusalem, and, when he did, he stayed in the old palace of the Herods in the west part of the city. When he came to Jerusalem, he always came with a detachment of soldiers. The soldiers had their standards; and on the top of the standard there was a little bust in metal of the reigning emperor. The emperor was regarded as a god, and to the Jews that little bust on the standards was a graven image.

All previous Roman governors, in deference to the religious scruples of the Jews, had removed that image before they entered the city. Pilate refused to do so. The Jews appealed to him to do so. Pilate was adamant; he would not pander to the superstitions of the Jews. He went back to Caesarea. The Jews followed him. They dogged his footsteps for five days. They were humble but determined in their requests. Finally he told them to meet him in the amphitheatre. He surrounded them with armed soldiers, and informed them that if they did not stop their requests they would be killed there and then. The Jews bared their necks and told the soldiers to strike. Not even Pilate could massacre defenceless men like that. He was beaten and compelled to agree that the images should thereafter be removed from the standards. That was how Pilate began, and it was a bad beginning.

The second incident was this. The Jerusalem water supply was inadequate. Pilate determined to build a new aqueduct. Where was the money to come from? He raided the Temple treasury, which contained millions. It is very unlikely that Pilate took money that was deposited for the sacrifices and the Temple service. Much more likely, he took money which was called Corban, and which came from sources which made it impossible to use for sacred purposes. His aqueduct was much needed; it was a worthy and a great undertaking; the water supply would even be of great benefit to the Temple, which needed much cleansing with its continual sacrifices. But the people resented it; they rioted and surged through the streets. Pilate mingled his soldiers with them in plain clothes, with concealed weapons. At a given signal, they attacked the mob, and many Jews were clubbed or stabbed to death. Once again Pilate was unpopular—and he was rendered liable to be reported to the emperor.

The third incident turned out even worse for Pilate. As we have seen, when he was in Jerusalem, he stayed in the ancient palace of the Herods. He had certain shields made; and on them he had inscribed the name of Tiberius the emperor. These shields were what is known as votive shields; they were devoted to the honour and the memory of the emperor. Now the emperor was regarded as a god; so here was the name of a strange god inscribed and displayed for reverence in the holy city. The people were enraged; the greatest men, even his closest supporters, pleaded with Pilate to remove them. He refused. The Jews reported the matter to Tiberius the emperor, and he ordered Pilate to remove them.

It is relevant to note how Pilate ended up. This last incident happened after Jesus had been crucified, in the year AD 35. There was a revolt in Samaria. It was not very serious, but Pilate crushed it with sadistic ferocity and a plethora of executions. The Samaritans had always been regarded as loyal citizens of Rome, and the legate of Syria intervened. Tiberius ordered Pilate back to Rome. When he was on the way, Tiberius died; so far as we know, Pilate never came to judgment; and from that moment he vanishes from history.

It is clear why Pilate acted as he did. The Jews blackmailed him into crucifying Jesus. They said: ‘If you let this man go, you are not Caesar’s friend.’ This was, in effect: ‘Your record is not too good; you were reported once before; if you do not give us our way, we will report you again to the emperor, and you will be dismissed.’ On that day in Jerusalem, Pilate’s past rose up and haunted him. He was blackmailed into assenting to the death of Christ, because his previous mistakes had made it impossible for him both to defy the Jews and to keep his post. Somehow one cannot help being sorry for Pilate. He wanted to do the right thing; but he did not have the courage to defy the Jews and do it. He crucified Jesus in order to keep his job.

Jewish and Hellenistic sources tell us a great deal about Pilate, most of which is extremely critical. He was a brutal ruler whose atrocities against the Jews were legendary. As a member of Rome’s lower nobility he was always aware of his vulnerabilities and so controlled Judea harshly, with an eye on the pleasure of his masters in Rome (see below, 19:12).

Seven times in this brief narrative the author says or implies that Pilate “went out” or “went in” (18:29, 33, 38; 19:1, 4, 9, 13). Beneath his arrogant manner, there was an uncertainty that came from the conflict between Pilate the Roman judge and Pilate the politician. He finally succumbed to expediency.

From the standpoint of Jesus, Pilate was a person in need; and Jesus gave him the opportunity of receiving truth if he would have it. Jesus made a greater effort to penetrate Pilate’s mind than to defend himself. When Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (18:38), he was near to the kingdom of God because incarnate truth was standing before him. Pilate sacrificed truth for what he thought was security and lost both.

Pilate is unnerved (19:8). John says that he is more afraid than before, which gives us an insight into his previous state of mind during the morning.

WE have seen Pilate’s history; let us now look at his conduct during his trial of Jesus. He did not wish to condemn Jesus, because he knew that he was innocent; and yet he was caught in the mesh of his own past.

(1) Pilate began by trying to put the responsibility on to someone else. He said to the Jews: ‘You take this man and judge him according to your laws.’ He tried to evade the responsibility of dealing with Jesus; but that is precisely what no one can do. No one can deal with Jesus for us; we must deal with him ourselves.

(2) Pilate went on to try to find a way of escape from the entanglement in which he found himself. He tried to use the custom of releasing a prisoner at the Passover in order to engineer the release of Jesus. He tried to evade dealing directly with Jesus himself; but again that is precisely what no one can do. There is no escape from a personal decision in regard to Jesus; we must ourselves decide what we will do with him—accept him or reject him.

(3) Pilate went on to see what compromise could do. He ordered Jesus to be scourged. It must have been in Pilate’s mind that a scourging might satisfy, or at least blunt the edge of, Jewish hostility. He felt that he might avoid having to give the verdict of the cross by giving the verdict of scourging. Once again, that is what no one can do. No one can compromise with Jesus; no one can serve two masters. We are either for Jesus or against him.

Josephus uses the term for Zealot leaders. Such a person was a guerrilla fighter or, as the Romans would view him, a “terrorist.”

Josephus uses the term for Zealot leaders. Such a person was a guerrilla fighter or, as the Romans would view him, a “terrorist.”

Pilate is trying to avoid responsibility for the death of an innocent man (here Matthew adds that Pilate washes his hands, discharging any responsibility, Matt. 27:24).

Jesus does not answer directly but probes the source of Pilate’s question (18:34). A Roman political query would be: “Are you a claimant-king challenging Rome?” Here the answer would be “No.” But a Jewish question would be: “Are you the messianic king of Israel?” Here the answer would be “Yes.” So what sort of king does Pilate mean? Is this his question—and if so, what does he mean by it? Pilate is already being forced to make a judgment, to evaluate Jesus. But Pilate recoils (18:35a), asking incredulously if Jesus thinks he would have any interest in matters related to Jewish theological squabbles. Nevertheless, if kingship is at issue, Pilate must uncover what sort of kingship it is. In the Synoptics Jesus simply echoes, “You say [that I am],” conceding that this is the label applied to him but not wanting to affirm the political meaning attached to the term (see 18:37).

Pilate’s response was one of fear. As a pagan he had heard stories of humanlike gods who visited men and judged them. Perhaps the solemn majesty of Jesus with His claims of truth began to convict his conscience. Jesus’ refusal to answer Pilate’s question, Where do You come from? fulfilled the words of prophecy in Isaiah 53:7.

The other gospels to some extent fill out John’s brief picture, and when we put all our information together we find that Barabbas was a notable prisoner, a brigand, who had taken part in a certain insurrection in the city and had committed murder (Matthew 27:15–26; Mark 15:6–15; Luke 23:17–25; Acts 3:14).

Hoping to strengthen this suggestion, Pilate offered to bargain with the Jewish leaders. It was a custom at Passover for the governor to release a prisoner and please the Jews; so, why not release Jesus? Or, he could release Barabbas; but why would the Jews want Barabbas set free? After all, he was a robber (John 18:40), a notorious prisoner (Matt. 27:16), an insurrectionist and a murderer (Luke 23:19). Who would want that kind of a prisoner turned loose?

Incredible as it seems, the crowd asked for Barabbas! The people were persuaded by the chief priests and elders (Matt. 27:20) whose religious convictions did not motivate them toward justice and equity. National feelings always increased during Passover, and a vote for Barabbas was a vote against Rome. Even though Jesus had been a popular figure among the people, many of them no doubt were disappointed that He had not led a popular uprising to overthrow Rome. Perhaps they had even hoped that His “triumphal entry” a few days before would be the start of Jewish liberation.

Hoping to strengthen this suggestion, Pilate offered to bargain with the Jewish leaders. It was a custom at Passover for the governor to release a prisoner and please the Jews; so, why not release Jesus? Or, he could release Barabbas; but why would the Jews want Barabbas set free? After all, he was a robber (John 18:40), a notorious prisoner (Matt. 27:16), an insurrectionist and a murderer (Luke 23:19). Who would want that kind of a prisoner turned loose?

Incredible as it seems, the crowd asked for Barabbas! The people were persuaded by the chief priests and elders (Matt. 27:20) whose religious convictions did not motivate them toward justice and equity. National feelings always increased during Passover, and a vote for Barabbas was a vote against Rome. Even though Jesus had been a popular figure among the people, many of them no doubt were disappointed that He had not led a popular uprising to overthrow Rome. Perhaps they had even hoped that His “triumphal entry” a few days before would be the start of Jewish liberation.

If sinners who actually saw Christ in His suffering did not repent, what hope is there for people twenty centuries later who only read about His agonies?

For the third time, Pilate announced, “I find no fault in Him!” The crowd might well have shouted, “Then why did you have Him scourged?” Pilate’s actions belied his words. He was a weak-willed man who, like many politicians, hoped to find a happy compromise that would please everybody. The Chinese teacher Confucius defined “cowardice” as “to know what is right and not do it.”

Bar Rabban, which would mean ‘son of the Rabbi’. It is not impossible that Barabbas was the son of some Rabbi, a scion of some noble family who had gone wrong; and it may well be that, criminal though he was, he was popular with the people as a kind of Robin Hood character.

There is a still more interesting thing about Barabbas. It is a second name and there must have been a first name, just as, for instance, Peter had been Simon bar-Jonah, Simon the son of Jonah. Now there are certain ancient Greek manuscripts, and certain Syrian and Armenian translations of the New Testament, which actually give the name of Barabbas as Jesus. That is by no means impossible, because in those days Jesus was a common name, being the Greek form of Joshua. If so, the choice of the crowd was even more dramatic, for they were shouting: ‘Not Jesus the Nazarene, but Jesus Barabbas.’

Barabbas, as John’s footnote indicates, was a robber. He was no common, petty thief, however. Matthew calls him a “notorious prisoner” (Matt. 27:16), while Mark (15:7) and Luke (23:19) note that he was a murderer (cf. Acts 3:14) and an insurrectionist. The specific insurrection he was involved in is unknown, but such uprisings, precursors of the wholesale revolt of A.D. 66–70, were common at that time. Ironically, the same Jewish leaders who had demanded that Pilate condemn Jesus as an insurrectionist now demanded the release of the notorious insurrectionist Barabbas.

(2) The hatred of the Jews made them lose all sense of proportion. They were so careful of ceremonial and ritual cleanness that they would not enter Pilate’s headquarters, and yet they were busy doing everything possible to crucify the Son of God. To eat the Passover, a Jew had to be absolutely ceremonially clean. Now, if they had gone into Pilate’s headquarters, they would have incurred uncleanness in a double way. First, the scribal law said: ‘The dwelling places of Gentiles are unclean.’ Second, the Passover was the Feast of Unleavened Bread. Part of the preparation for it was a ceremonial search for leaven, and the banishing of every particle of leaven from every house because it was the symbol of evil. To go into Pilate’s headquarters would have been to go into a place where leaven might be found; and to go into such a place when the Passover was being prepared was to render oneself unclean. But even if the Jews had entered a Gentile house which contained leaven, they would have been unclean only until evening. Then they would have had to undergo ceremonial bathing after which they would have been clean.

Now see what the Jews were doing. They were carrying out the details of the ceremonial law with meticulous care; and at the same time they were hounding to the cross the Son of God. That is just the kind of thing that people are always liable to do. Many a church member fusses about the sheerest trifles, and breaks God’s law of love and of forgiveness and of service every day.

But the popular pressure was too strong. The cry “If you let this man go, you are no friend of Caesar” carried the day. The phrase “a friend of Caesar” was more than a casual allusion to Roman patriotism. It usually denoted a supporter or associate of the emperor, a member of the important inner circle. The cry was a veiled threat: if Pilate exonerated Jesus, the high priest would report to Rome that Pilate had refused to bring a rival pretender to justice and was perhaps plotting to establish a new political alliance of his own. Tiberius, the reigning emperor, was notoriously bitter and suspicious of rivals. If such a report were sent to him, he would instantly end Pilate’s political career and probably his life, too.

Pilate resumed his haughty attitude and refused to change the wording. “What I have written, I have written” means essentially, “Take it and like it!”

The use of the perfect tense in “It is finished” (tetelestai) signifies full completion of Jesus’ work and the establishment of a basis for faith. Nothing further needed to be done. Jesus’ act was voluntary and confident, for he had discharged perfectly the Father’s purpose and was leaving the scene of his human struggle. The expression may be interpreted in various ways: as a cry of relief, because suffering is ending; as a cry of anguish, because his ministry has ended in failure; or as a shout of victory, because the purpose of God has triumphed in his death. The last of these seems to be the author’s intent. He makes it the final report of Jesus to the Father, who will now exalt him to glory. The final word says that “he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.” It could also be translated “he laid his head to rest and dismissed his spirit.” Jesus retained consciousness and command of himself till the very end.

‘Shall I crucify your king?’ Pilate asked, presenting Jesus to ‘the Jews’ as their king (cf. 18:39; 19:14). To their everlasting shame the chief priests answered, ‘We have no king but Caesar.’ In the OT the Lord is the true king of Israel:

O LORD, our God, other lords besides you have ruled over us,

but your name alone do we honour. (Isa. 26:13)

Jewish people concluded the great Hallel (the recital of Pss. 113–118) with the prayer ‘From everlasting to everlasting thou art God; beside thee we have no king, redeemer, or saviour; no liberator, deliverer, provider; none who takes pity in every time of distress or trouble. We have no king but thee.’ When God gave the Israelites the kings they wanted, they were seen as exercising kingship in the name of the Lord (see 1 Chr. 29:23). For the chief priests to say ‘We have no king but Caesar’ was both a travesty of the Jewish faith as well as a renunciation of Jesus, their true Messiah. Indeed, ‘He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him’ (1:11).

Why did Jesus not answer Pilate’s question? Because He had already answered it (John 18:36–37). It is a basic spiritual principle that God does not reveal new truth to us if we fail to act on the truth we already know. Furthermore, Pilate had already made it clear that he was not personally interested in spiritual truth. All he was concerned about was maintaining peace in Jerusalem as he tried to expedite the trial of Jesus of Nazareth. Pilate did not deserve an answer!

19:8 even more afraid. Or “more afraid than ever.” Pilate was evidently superstitious (cf. Matt 27:19).

19:8 more afraid. Many Roman officials were deeply superstitious. While Jews interpreted Jesus’ claims as messianic, to the Greco-Roman person, the title “Son of God” would place Jesus in the category of “divine men” who were gifted with supernatural powers. Pilate was afraid because he had just whipped and tortured someone who, in his mind, could bring down a curse or vengeance upon him.

Thus it is possible that Pilate held this honor. Therefore it appears that the Jewish authorities were putting a good deal of psychological pressure on Pilate to convict Jesus. They had, in effect, finally specified the charge against Jesus as treason: “Everyone who makes himself to be king opposes Caesar.” If Pilate now failed to convict Jesus the Jewish authorities could complain to Rome that Pilate had released a traitor. This possibility carried more weight with Pilate than might at first be evident: (1) Pilate’s record as governor was not entirely above reproach; (2) Tiberius, who lived away from Rome as a virtual recluse on the island of Capri, was known for his suspicious nature, especially toward rivals or those who posed a political threat; and (3) worst of all, Pilate’s patron in Rome, Sejanus, had recently come under suspicion of plotting to seize the imperial succession for himself. Sejanus was deposed in October of A.D. 31. It may have been to Sejanus that Pilate owed his appointment in Judea. Pilate was now in a very delicate position. The Jewish authorities may have known something of this and deliberately used it as leverage against him. Whether or not they knew just how potent their veiled threat was, it had the desired effect. Pilate went directly to the judgment seat to pronounce his judgment.

Because Jesus cried, “It is finished,” and gave up his spirit, we now shout, “Hallelujah!” and receive his Spirit. Everything promised—everything needful for our redemption and for the coming “new world” (Matt. 19:28), was accomplished. Nothing was left undone.

But even falsely claiming to be the Messiah was not a capital offense in standard Jewish teaching, as long as one were not a false prophet advocating other gods. On their own terms, Jesus’ accusers are thus mistaken about the law’s teaching about him (10:34–36); but John may intend more irony: he believed the Old Testament predicted that God’s Son would die (cf. Is 53).

On October 18, A.D. 31, Sejanus, Pilate’s political sponsor in Rome, fell from power, and Pilate had much to fear from any bad reports about him. But Jesus’ trial may well have taken place before A.D. 31, and the accusation of 19:12 would be a fearful one even with Sejanus in power: the emperor Tiberius was suspicious of the least talk of treason, and a delegation to Rome providing the slightest evidence that Pilate had supported a self-proclaimed king could lead to Pilate’s beheading. Philo tells us that Pilate also backed down much earlier in his career when the Jewish leaders threatened to petition the emperor against him.

19:14. The “day of Preparation” was the day that the Passover lamb would be slaughtered to be eaten that night (cf. comment on 18:28). (Jewish people reckoned days from sunset to sunset, so what we would call Friday night they considered the beginning of the sabbath, or Saturday.) Later rabbis estimated that offerings began earlier on Passover eve, but the slaughter of Passover lambs probably had to continue all day and was finally completed about the time the evening offering was slaughtered, roughly when Jesus died (about 3 p.m.).

But they knew Pilate feared Tiberius Caesar (the Roman emperor at the time of Jesus’ crucifixion) since he had a highly suspicious personality and exacted ruthless punishment. Pilate had already created upheaval in Palestine by several foolish acts that had infuriated the Jews, and so was under the scrutiny of Rome to see if his ineptness continued. The Jews were intimidating him by threatening another upheaval that could spell the end of his power in Palestine, if he did not execute Jesus.

Fear and anger often go together. When we are afraid we are weak, we go the other extreme and try to appear strong. This is what Pilate did as he reminded Jesus of his Roman authority. But his statement did not demonstrate his power; it demonstrated his weakness. For if he had the authority to release Jesus, why did he not do it? He condemned himself with his own boastful words.

John 19:11 records our Lord’s last words to Pilate, words that reveal His faith in the Father and His surrender to His will (see 1 Peter 2:23; 4:19). All authority comes from God (Rom. 13:1ff). Jesus was able to surrender to Rome and the Jews because He was first of all yielded to God. Pilate was boasting about his authority (John 19:10), but Jesus reminded him that his so-called authority was only delegated to him from God. One day God would call him to account for the way he had used his privileges and responsibilities.

the one who delivered Me to you has the greater sin. This could refer either to Judas or Caiaphas. Since Caiaphas took such an active part in the plot against Jesus (11:49–53) and presided over the Sanhedrin, the reference may center on him (18:30, 35). The critical point is not the identity of the person but guilt because of the deliberate, high-handed, and coldly calculated act of handing Jesus over to Pilate, after having seen and heard the overwhelming evidence that He was Messiah and Son of God. Pilate had not been exposed to that. See notes on 9:41; 15:22–24; Heb. 10:26–31.

Jesus wasn’t just crucified between criminals, but for criminals as a criminal. God “made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).

Because Jesus cried, “It is finished,” and gave up his spirit, we now shout, “Hallelujah!” and receive his Spirit. Everything promised—everything needful for our redemption and for the coming “new world” (Matt. 19:28), was accomplished. Nothing was left undone.

From then on. Or “for this reason.” tried to set Jesus free. Pilate is convinced that Jesus did nothing worthy of death. no friend of Caesar. A shrewd political move (see note on 18:31) with an implied threat: the Jewish leaders will ruin Pilate’s career by reporting him to Caesar if he does not punish Jesus, who “opposes Caesar.” Pilate’s status with Caesar may have been precarious at the time, so this threat would concern him. The Jewish leaders pretend to be more loyal to Caesar than Pilate, but Jesus is far less of a threat to Caesar than the Jews are (about 40 years later the Jews unsuccessfully revolt against Rome).

The words of Jesus to Mary and the beloved disciple were His third saying from the cross (the first one recorded by John). In the other Gospels Jesus had already given a respite to the Roman executioners (Luke 23:34) and a pardon to one thief (Luke 23:42–43).

19:28–29. Jesus’ fourth of seven sayings from the cross, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” is not recorded by John (cf. Matt. 27:46; Mark 15:34). John recorded the fifth saying, I am thirsty. The wording in John 19:28 indicated that Jesus was fully conscious and was aware of fulfilling the details of prophecies (Pss. 42:1–2; 63:1). The paradox of the One who is the Water of life (John 4:14; 7:38–39) dying in thirst is striking.

The sixth word or saying that Jesus spoke from the cross was the single Greek word tetelestai which means It is finished. Papyri receipts for taxes have been recovered with the word tetelestai written across them, meaning “paid in full.” This word on Jesus’ lips was significant. When He said, “It is finished” (not “I am finished”), He meant His redemptive work was completed. He had been made sin for people (2 Cor. 5:21) and had suffered the penalty of God’s justice which sin deserved. Even in the moment of His death, Jesus remained the One who gave up His life (cf. John 10:11, 14, 17–18). He bowed His head (giving His seventh saying, “Father, into Your hands I commit My spirit” [Luke 23:46]) and then dismissed His spirit. This differs from the normal process in death by crucifixion in which the life-spirit would ebb away and then the head would slump forward.

The crowd had the last word: “We have no king but Caesar!” “We will not have this man to reign over us!” (Luke 19:14) Well-meaning preachers have often said that the crowd on Palm Sunday shouted “Hosannah!” turned right around and shouted “Crucify Him!” on Good Friday. However, it was two different crowds. The Palm Sunday crowd came primarily from Galilee where Jesus was very popular. The crowd at Pilate’s hall was from Judea and Jerusalem where the religious leaders were very much in control. If the Galilean disciples had had their way, they would have revolted and delivered Jesus!

Our Lord made seven statements while He was on the cross; they are known as “the seven words from the cross.” First, He thought of others: those who crucified Him (Luke 23:34), the believing thief (Luke 23:39–43), and His mother (John 19:25–27). The central word had to do with His relationship to the Father (Matt. 27:45–49); and the last three statements focused on Himself: His body (John 19:28–29), His soul (John 19:30; and see Isa. 53:10), and His spirit (Luke 23:46).

There was once a rather eccentric evangelist named Alexander Wooten, who was approached by a flippant young man who asked, “What must I do to be saved?”

“It’s too late!” Wooten replied, and went about his work.

The young man became alarmed. “Do you mean that it’s too late for me to be saved?” he asked. “Is there nothing I can do?”

“Too late!” said Wooten. “It’s already been done! The only thing you can do is believe.”

Additional information about Pilate from non-Christian sources supports the picture of Pilate’s character revealed in the NT. Philo reported that Tiberius was infuriated with Pilate for his insensitivity in governing and accused him of taking bribes as well as performing numerous executions without any trials (Embassy to Gaius, 302–4).

Josephus recounted two incidents in which Pilate himself sparked Jewish demonstrations in Jerusalem—one by flaunting Roman images of the emperor on military equipment and the other by attempting to confiscate temple funds for works he wanted done related to the water supply for Jerusalem (Antiquities, 18.55–62).

What was finished? The mission of Jesus, the Son of God, to die a substitutionary death for sinful persons. As a result of His death on our behalf, our sin was atoned for, and eternal life through Jesus became attainable through trusting faith.

In their bitter irony, these words show Pilate’s contempt for the Jews. As the people clamored for Jesus’ crucifixion, Pilate scornfully asked, “Shall I crucify your king?” The reply of the chief priests is astonishing: “We have no king but Caesar.” The official heads of the nation, who would gladly have welcomed independence, put themselves on record as subjects of the pagan emperor. Even allowing for the fact that the Sadducean priesthood was willing to compromise with the Romans for the sake of political advantage, nothing revealed their lack of spiritual principles so vividly as this act of betrayal. It was the final step in the process initially described in the Prologue: “He came to that which was his own, but his own [people] did not receive him” (John 1:11).

‘It is finished.’ Earlier, when Jesus knew his work had been completed, he said, ‘I am thirsty’ (28). Now he said, ‘It is finished.’ To understand the significance of these words we need to remember that in Matthew and Mark the offer of wine vinegar followed Jesus’ cry of dereliction, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Matt. 27:46–49; Mark 15:33–37), which signaled the fact that he was bearing in his own person the awful consequences of human sin. When, in the Fourth Gospel, having received the drink, Jesus said, ‘It is finished,’ he was referring, not only to the work of revelation through word and sign, but also to the great work of redemption. With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. In 10:18 Jesus insisted that no-one would take his life from him and that he would lay it down of his own accord, and here he did just that—bowing his head, he gave up his spirit. He had finished the work he came to do. He had given his flesh for the life of the world (6:51), as the good shepherd he had laid down his life for the sheep (10:11, 14), he became the one man who died for the nation (11:50), he was the seed that had fallen into the ground, and would now produce many seeds (12:24), and he had shown the love greater than any other—he had laid down his life for his friends (15:13).

During his infancy, wise men from the East heralded him as King (Matthew 2:2). At the beginning of the Passion week, the multitudes had cried, “Blessed is the King of Israel!” (John 12:13). Before Pilate, Christ himself bore witness to his “kingdom” (18:36–37). And now his royal title was affixed to his very gibbet. Ultimately he will come back as “King of kings and Lord of lords” (Revelation 19:16).

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ.… [Grace] is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “Ye were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us.

An odd exegetical dispute has followed 19:13 for some time. Most translations today say that Pilate “sat down,” but the verb used here (kathizo) can just as well be transitive, requiring an object. Hence, perhaps “Pilate brought Jesus out and set [him] down on the judge’s seat.” If this interpretation is correct, it would mean that Pilate continues to mock Jesus, sitting him on the bema and announcing his kingship (19:14). But there would also be a double meaning (something John enjoys), since throughout the Gospel Jesus is known as bringing judgment (3:18–21; 5:22–30; 8:26; 9:39; 12:48); indeed, now Jesus sits enthroned as his accusers’ judge. Jesus, already made king (19:1–3), now becomes judge.

Caiaphas and Annas represent men whose devotion to their religious careers and the political status quo exceeded their willingness to see God at work in Jesus. They have become the dangerous shepherds of chapter 10, whose interest in the welfare of the flock has been superseded by their own self-preservation. Now as an interpreter I have to ask a difficult question: In my presentation of this material, do I simply tell the historical story (Jesus died at the hands of Pilate through the manipulations of the Sanhedrin), or do I go beyond the story and see here a paradigm, a model of bad shepherds at work?

The other major theme that threads itself through chapters 18–19 has to do with the kingship of Jesus. From the wounded man in the garden (Malchus, meaning “my king”) to Jesus’ sustained discussion with Pilate, the word “king” occurs over a dozen times. Even on the cross, Pilate insists that Jesus be labeled “King of the Jews” instead of the compromising “This Man Said, I Am King of the Jews” (cf. 19:21). The remarkable thing from John’s perspective is that all of this is going on while the characters on his stage do not know it is going on.

No person is capable of stifling the glory of God if God intends for that glory to be shown. God is in control of history, even this hostile, seemingly darkened chapter of history that offers little hope. If he is sovereign in places like this Passover during this particular year in Jerusalem, if he can manifest glory and accomplish his purposes when to the observer everything seems like defeat and disaster, our history can be no different. If God could transform this “hour” with glory, so too he can transform any hour.

Certainly Jesus’ silence was judgmental, in the sense that Pilate had heard the truth and rejected it, and now would receive no further answer from Him. The Bible teaches that when men persist in rejecting God, He will reject them (cf. Judg. 10:13; 2 Chron. 15:2; 24:20; Ps. 81:11–12; Hos. 4:17; Matt. 15:14).

The question is illuminating. In the last resort it was Pilate alone who could say “Crucify” or “Release,” and this frank recognition of it makes nonsense of all the shifts to which he resorted in the attempt to avoid making a decision. Ultimately he could not avoid responsibility and these words show that deep down he must have realized this. (The Gospel According to John, The New International Commentary on the New Testament [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979], 796–97)

Several of Pilate’s foolish acts had already infuriated the Jews and caused turmoil in Palestine. Rome’s eye was on him, and he dared not risk another upheaval. The emperor at that time, Tiberius, was noted for his suspicious nature and willingness to exact ruthless punishment on his subordinates. Pilate feared for his position, his possessions, even for his life. He felt that he had no choice now but to give in to the Jews’ wishes and pronounce the sentence they demanded.

Pilate said to them, “Shall I crucify your King?” In a chilling act of appalling hypocrisy, the chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” Though said with blatant duplicity, the irony was that there was truth in their statement; having rejected their messianic King, they were left with only Caesar as their king. In yet one more bitter irony, those who had falsely accused Jesus of blasphemy committed an act of blasphemy of their own, since God alone was Israel’s true King (cf. Judg. 8:23; 1 Sam. 8:7; Ps. 149:2; Isa. 33:22).

Pilate’s dilemma, expressed in his question, “Then what shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?” (Matt. 27:22) is the same one facing every person. There are only two alternatives: to stand with His rejecters and crucifiers and face eternal damnation (Heb. 6:6), or to acknowledge Him as Lord and Savior (Rom. 10:9) and be saved. Pilate’s futile attempts to evade the issue reveal clearly that there is no middle ground for, as Jesus declared, “He who is not with Me is against Me; and he who does not gather with Me scatters” (Matt. 12:30). In the end, pride and fear of man led to Pilate’s downfall, and he sided with the crucifiers of Christ to the damnation of his soul. He stands in history as a monumentally tragic figure. Privileged to converse privately with the Savior, he found no value in the opportunity. It was likely the worst experience of his life. He belongs in Judas’s category.

“at the name of Jesus every knee will bow, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and … every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Phil. 2:10–11).

After tenderly establishing His mother’s care, Jesus, knowing that all things had already been accomplished, to fulfill the Scripture, said, “I am thirsty.” In His omniscience, Jesus knew there was only one remaining prophecy to be fulfilled. In Psalm 69:21 David wrote, “They also gave me gall for my food and for my thirst they gave me vinegar (the Septuagint uses the same Greek word translated sour wine in v. 29) to drink.” Jesus knew that by saying “I am thirsty” He would prompt the soldiers to give Him a drink. They, of course, did not consciously do so to fulfill prophecy, still less to show compassion. Their goal was to increase the Lord’s torment by prolonging His life.

Having received the sour wine, Jesus said, “It is finished!” (Gk. tetelestai). Actually, the Lord shouted those words with a loud cry (Matt. 27:50; Mark 15:37). It was a shout of triumph; the proclamation of a victor. The work of redemption that the Father had given Him was accomplished: sin was atoned for (Heb. 9:12; 10:12;), and Satan was defeated and rendered powerless (Heb. 2:14; cf. 1 Peter 1:18–20; 1 John 3:8). Every requirement of God’s righteous law had been satisfied; God’s holy wrath against sin had been appeased (Rom. 3:25; Heb. 2:17; 1 John 2:2; 4:10); every prophecy had been fulfilled. Christ’s completion of the work of redemption means that nothing needs to be nor can be added to it. Salvation is not a joint effort of God and man, but is entirely a work of God’s grace, appropriated solely by faith (Eph. 2:8–9).