The John Project

John chapter 20 opens with Mary Magdalene going to Jesus’ tomb in the predawn hours on the Sunday following his crucifixion. We know from the other gospels that she’d gone there to complete the burial process that had been interrupted by the Sabbath. But when she arrived, she discovered the stone that had been used to cover the entrance had been rolled away and the body was gone.

From that point through the next 9 verses, the narrative almost sounds like coverage of a track meet. Mary took off running to find Peter and John. Then, the two of them ran to the tomb to check it out for themselves with John arriving first because he’d outrun Peter. And it’s implied that Mary chased after them back to the tomb because verse 11 says she remained there when

Peter and John returned home. And that undoubtedly involved even more running as they rushed to share with others what they’d seen.

But this passage isn’t about a frantic foot race. It’s about a journey to faith in the risen Christ. And that’s not always an easy road to navigate. The resurrection can be a significant intellectual obstacle for many. But everything about God’s plan to redeem humanity rests on this truth. In fact, I Corinthians 15:17 puts it this way, “If Christ is not risen, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins!”

So, John, who once again referred to himself simply as a 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘑𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, used his own testimony to illustrate the path forward. In verses 5-8, he employed three different Greek words, each translated into the English text as 𝘴𝘢𝘸, to mark the three distinct stages in a progression of perception that enabled him to cross the threshold into belief and can help us to do the same.

He was the first of the two disciples to arrive at the tomb. Although he didn’t initially go inside, we’re told he 𝘴𝘢𝘸 the grave clothes. And in this instance, he used a word that means to behold or become aware of something. It describes the kind of casual seeing that happens whenever we open our eyes. But he used another word to express the way Peter 𝘴𝘢𝘸 the scene after arriving and choosing to enter the tomb. It’s a word that emphasizes a more purposeful, observant way of seeing. Then, when describing what happened after he chose to join Peter inside and view the evidence from that angle, John used a different word altogether. This one characterizes the kind of seeing that leads to comprehension. And that’s what was happening when we’re told he 𝘴𝘢𝘸 and believed.

Like John, we begin this journey when we’re willing to stop and consider the evidence for the resurrection. We take the next step when we carefully weigh that evidence and its profound implications. And things really pick up speed when we allow all of that to shape our understandings about ourselves, God, and eternity. But even then, we’re just getting started.

It's obvious that John’s faith was still a work in progress. He candidly admitted in verse 9 that the disciples hadn’t yet understood Scripture’s resurrection prophecies, and it’s clear they had a way to go before comprehending and assimilating all that Jesus had taught them about God’s redemption plan. But significant strides were taken that day.

A life of faith in the living Jesus doesn’t just erupt fully formed out of unbelief. Neither does it arrive at the end of a short sprint. It’s gained through a process that nearly always involves something more like a cross-country race where the distance between where you start and finish is only closed by carefully navigating the terrain you encounter along the way.

So, like it says in Hebrew 12:1-2, “Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith.”

When I was a young man, I toured with a Christian rock band, and in 1977, we recorded a live concert for television to promote the release of an album. The show was captured from different angles by a variety of cameras, and their individual feeds were edited together to create the version for broadcast.

But immediately after the performance, our band had to get back out on the road. So, we didn’t get to see the finished version when it aired. But nearly a decade later, while visiting a distribution warehouse, I was shocked and thrilled to find an original video tape from that concert in a random box just sitting on one of the shelves. It was the feed from only one of the cameras and doesn’t capture everything. But because of its distinct vantage point, it preserves aspects of the performance that likely didn’t appear in the televised version. So, I’ve come to appreciate the value of that camera’s point of view.

A point of view is the perspective from which something is observed or experienced. And the accounts of the resurrection of Jesus contained in the New Testament vary a bit from each other because of that. Each person who lived through that event experienced it from within the context of their individual perspective. It’s one story with the same start and finish, but it’s wrapped around an assortment of other stories taking place inside it because of the witnesses’ different frames of reference. And the gospel writers had their OWN points of view. Under the direction of the Holy Spirit, each of them had a distinct purpose for their writing and a different audience in mind when they made the choices about which of the stories within the story to include. Taken together, though, it’s like having the opportunity to view the same scene through the lenses of different cameras. And that provides us with a fuller, richer picture of what happened.

But there’s also value in tightening the focus and zeroing in on a single vantage point to savor the unique details it captures. And that’s the choice John made for his account of the discovery of the empty grave and revelation of the risen Savior. The first verse of chapter 20 sets those events within the frame of a single point of view. According to the other gospels, there were several women who came to Jesus’ tomb early on the first Easter morning. But John only mentions one of them, Mary Magdalene.

Magdalene was not her last name. It’s a reference to where she came from, the city of Magdala. And maybe where she came from is part of the reason why her viewpoint was important to John. I’m not referring to the geographical location of her past but to what she experienced there. According to Luke (8:2), she had lived under the horrors inflicted on her soul by seven demonic spirits until she encountered Jesus and was set from that bondage. As a result, the intensity of her devotion to him was on full display as she moved from grief over his death through confusion at the disappearance of his body to the joy of his resurrection appearance. It was as if nothing and no one else mattered. And maybe her point of view reveals something about God’s.

Isn’t that the way he loves us, as though nothing and no one else matters? Yes, the Bible says he loves the whole world (John 3:16), but it also describes him as a shepherd who’s willing to leave the ninety-nine to rescue the one lost lamb (Matthew 18:11-13). And once when Jesus was pressing through the push and shove of a sizeable crowd, he still knew when one specific woman reached out and touched the hem of his garment. We’re told he sought her, made eye contact with her, spoke to her, and ministered healing to her as if she was the only person there (Luke 8:43-48).

God’s love is intently focused on each of us individually. And in those times when we’re tempted to believe otherwise, may the Holy Spirit remind us that we are his point of view.

John 19:38-42 supplies details regarding Jesus’ burial. But it also records a remarkable account of bold, risky, and unexpected faith exercised by two members of the Jewish elite. Both were part of the Sanhedrin – the religious leadership council – and both, until this point, had been timid Christ-followers.

One of them, Joseph from the city of Arimathea, is mentioned in all four of the canonical gospels. Although the other three describe various additional aspects of Joseph’s identity and character, in his account, John focused on the fact that he was someone who kept his belief in Jesus a secret for fear of how his fellow religious leaders might react if they found out.

The other man was named Nicodemus. He only appears in the Gospel of John but is mentioned on three occasions. The first occurred early in the Lord’s ministry (John 3:1-21) when Nicodemus’ spiritual hunger compelled him to seek answers. But we’re told he approached Jesus at night under cover of darkness to avoid being seen associating with him.

Both men clearly tried to keep their faith a private affair. So, it’s truly shocking when even while adrift in the high tide of heartache, confusion, and disillusionment they must have been experiencing in the aftermath of the crucifixion, they steeled themselves to take a very public and dangerous stand of solidarity with Jesus by assuming responsibility for his burial.

The Lord’s closest followers had all gone into hiding. But instead of running away, Joseph shoved his secret faith out into the open and courageously approached Pilate for permission to take possession of the body. Then, Nicodemus escorted his own belief out of the shadows and brought 100 pounds of spices, likely purchased at his own expense, to join Joseph in preparing the corpse according to Jewish custom. And finally, together, they placed Christ’s remains in a new tomb owned by Joseph (Matthew 27:60) and conveniently located in a garden nearby.

After this, both men exit the pages of Scripture and into legend. So, even though we may desperately desire to hear the rest of the story, we simply can’t know what happened next. Our questions regarding the impact of the resurrection on their lives, how the rest of the religious elite reacted to their stand, and how their expressions of faith in that darkest of times directed their futures must remain unanswered.

But this is certain. There was no turning back. They were now on record as being among those who followed the Nazarene. To the extent they’d previously been able to keep that fact hidden, it would no longer be possible. Their commitment to Jesus, once private and theoretical, was now public and material.

But true faith can only reveal itself when challenged. Like the strength of a muscle that can’t be fully assessed unless exercised against resistance, belief in Jesus is merely philosophical until acted on in the face of circumstances that push against it. That’s what makes the story of Joseph and Nicodemus so powerful and why we should all pray to be more like them.

If you’ve been someone who’s tried to play your faith close to the vest but are finding it increasingly difficult to do so while being squeezed between the rocks and hard places of life or when under direct satanic assault, I encourage you to remember Joe and Nick. It’s time to make the choice they made.

My wife and I have had parents pass into eternity in recent years, and we’ve learned firsthand that among the many unexpected decisions confronting surviving loved ones is determining how much and what aspects of the deceased’s history to preserve. Wading through all their photos, slides, videos, digital files, journals, papers, and keepsakes – not to mention financial records, clothing, home décor, and other possessions – can feel overwhelming. So, I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for John to be summoned by the Holy Spirit into the process of curating a record of the life of Jesus for his gospel.

He described the challenge as staggering in chapter 21 verse 25. But in chapter 20 verse 31, he explained the approach the Spirit led him to adopt for making the difficult editing decisions when he said, “These are written that you may BELIEVE that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that BELIEVING you may have life in his name.”

With that statement, the apostle made clear that of all the details he could have included, his account was fine-tuned to inspire faith. And one of the ways he accomplished that was by quoting Old Testament, messianic prophecies and noting the ways God fulfilled them through and within the Savior’s ministry. Chapter 19 verses 31-37 contain two examples of this. Both involve events that occurred after the Lord’s death making their fulfillment even more belief-producing.

Jesus was crucified on the Day of Preparation for the first Sabbath of the week-long Feast of Unleavened Bread, the most sacred season on the Jewish calendar. For that reason and because of a command in the Mosaic law (Deuteronomy 21:22-23) requiring that the body of anyone hung on a tree be buried on the same day, the Jewish leaders pressed Pilate to hasten the deaths of Jesus and the thieves. The religious clock was ticking, and they were anxious to get the corpses buried.

So, soldiers were dispatched to break the legs of the dying men and make it harder for them to push themselves up to breathe. The text describes that they brutalized the thieves in this way but not Jesus because he’d already died. And John carefully noted that this was the fulfillment of a prophecy made by King David 1,000 years earlier and recorded in Psalm 34:20 where it says, “Not one of his bones shall be broken.”

Then, just to be certain Jesus was dead, one of the soldiers pierced the side of his lifeless body with a spear causing a mix of blood and water to flow from the wound. Many Bible commentators believe the specific description of the blood and water hold symbolic spiritual significance; many physicians believe it provides medical clues for the cause of death; and many Christian apologists believe it counters the argument of resurrection deniers that Jesus didn’t really die. And all of that may be true. But what is certain is that this piercing was not a random act. It was foretold. It was the realization of a prophecy made 500 years previous and recorded in Zechariah 12:10: “They shall look on him whom they pierced.”

John considered this pair of proofs for the Lord’s messiahship so powerful that in verse 35 he paused the narrative to insert a claim for the trustworthiness of his account. Referring to himself, he said, “He who has SEEN has testified, and his testimony is TRUE…so that you may BELIEVE.”

It would be easy to undervalue this part of the crucifixion record. None of the other gospel writers included these details. But John’s unique purpose compelled him to tell this part of Christ’s story and emphasize its importance. So, let’s tread reverently here and be willing to linger in the presence of the Holy Spirit who inspired these words, allowing him to use them to strengthen our faith.

Decades ago, I took part in a study designed to help teams and their leaders understand each other better and work together more effectively. At its conclusion, each participant received a report describing their personality type and the work environment they would most likely thrive in. And I still vividly recall my reaction to a couple of sentences in the summary I was given. They read, “Randy is a 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳. He is at his best and most productive when given an assignment that allows him to fully own the details of a project and see it through from inception to completion.”

The observation that I’m a 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳 captivated me. For the first time, I had language to describe this aspect of my makeup. It was an illuminating discovery, but it also exposed a significant problem because almost nothing in life is ever really finished. There’s nearly always more that could be done if additional energy, passion, time, creativity, or skill were applied. And suddenly, I understood the source of the low-grade frustration that seemed to perpetually pursue me.

But the Holy Spirit used that revelation to get my attention about a critical issue in my Christian life. I’d become subconsciously skeptical regarding anything ever really being fully accomplished, and it was keeping me from embracing the unfathomable depths of grace contained in the dying words of Jesus.

John 19:28-30 records that in the final moments of his crucifixion, fully aware the plan of redemption had reached its climax, Jesus first ensured that an additional item could be checked off the list of messianic prophecies. When he said, “I thirst,” and was offered a sponge dipped in vinegar, he was fulfilling a prophetic description of the suffering Christ from Psalm 22:15. But immediately after that and just before bowing his head to surrender his spirit, he uttered the most profound claim ever voiced: “It…is…finished.”

That short English sentence translates a Greek word that is less about the conclusion of something and more about that thing being completed in full. Referring to the plan of salvation, Jesus was not saying, “Close enough, let’s call it good.” He was declaring that in exhaustive detail he’d fully accomplished EVERYTHING required to pay the penalty for humanity’s rebellion against God, open the pathway for us to enjoy a restored relationship of seamless love with our maker, and redeem all creation from the corrosive effects of sin.

Jesus left no aspect of his mission undone. Unlike human endeavors, his work was finished in the absolute sense. There’s nothing that can be added to make it more complete. The salvation his sufferings purchased is paid for in full. And although they are appropriate responses to the grace he secured for us, no act of obedience, devotion, or repentance on our part can increase its availability to us. Its benefits are ours to access by simple faith.

But accepting, trusting, and resting in the conclusive work of the cross can be a challenge for us. It was for me. In fact, it’s so unlike our lived experience it requires a form of faith God himself must provide. That’s why Ephesians 2:8 says, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God.” But it literally changes our eternity when we choose to receive that gift and finally settle into the realization that the one who fully performed ALL that was required to rescue us from sin and its curse is also the one who enables us to enjoy the new life he made possible for us as the divine 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳.

I was twenty-one when I pulled my car to the entrance of Little Company of Mary hospital in Torrance, CA to pick up my wife and our first child from the maternity ward. After Sue was seated and I’d placed our newborn in her lap – child car seats weren’t a thing in those days – I closed the passenger door and began making my way to the driver’s side. But just as I was rounding the trunk, the Lord spoke to me.

I don’t say that casually. Please believe me that claiming to have received a message directly from the Sovereign of the Universe is NOT something I do lightly. But I’m convinced I heard from God in that moment. It came as a distinct, unbidden impression to my thoughts. And that impression was so strong, I would have sworn it was an audible voice. As I was about to get behind the wheel to drive my little family home and embark on the fatherhood journey that would define the rest of my days, I heard, “Your life is over.”

Now, that may seem like an unartful way for the Maker and Master of All Things to communicate, but I knew EXACTLY what he meant. He was emphatically marking the boundary where my self-centered life was to end and where a lifetime of caring for others precious to HIM would begin. And as I consider the moving story accounted in John 19:25-27, I think it describes a similar commissioning that took place in the gospel writer’s own life.

Among the women specifically identified in the text as positioned near the cross and present with the Lord in his agony, was his mother. She was most likely a widow at that point in her life, and the realities of the time made it nearly impossible for a woman to provide for herself alone. As the oldest son in His family, Jesus had a cultural obligation to care for His mom. So, even in the throes of his unimaginable suffering, this tender passage describes how Jesus ensured her needs would be met in the aftermath of his passing.

Why the Lord didn’t leave this responsibility to his half-brothers or other relatives can’t be known. But it may have been due in part to the fact that they didn’t yet believe in him as Messiah according to John 7:5. Regardless, Jesus chose for this role one of his closest friends, the one who described himself humbly and without presumption as, “the disciple whom he loved.”

With his physical life draining away and in what must have been a weak and labored voice, Jesus first spoke to his mother. He addressed her with a tender word of endearment and respect translated into English as 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯, and referring to john he said, “Behold your son.” Then, Jesus locked eyes with his disciple and spoke three simple words that changed his life: “Behold your mother.”

I think John knew EXACTLY what Jesus meant. Of course, it included taking immediate action to provide Mary with a roof over her head. And the original language makes clear John began caring for her in every way as if she were his own mother. But much more than that, I believe John understood this marked the boundary where his self-centered life would end and where a lifetime of caring for others precious to the Savior would begin. It set him on the path to becoming one of the “pillars” of the church according to Galatians 2:9 and to authoring five of the books of the New Testament.

Do I believe a few words from Jesus could have that kind of impact on the course of someone’s life? Yes, absolutely. And as you consider this part of the crucifixion account, I feel compelled to ask you to listen for any boundary-marking words the Lord may want to speak to you through it. They may be simple, but I bet you’ll know EXACTLY what he means.

In the fall of 2008, my wife was away on a personal retreat seeking the Lord in prayer regarding his plans for the next season of her life, and she felt her heart drawn to Isaiah chapter 41. Several parts of that passage spoke to her deeply, especially the phrases, “Fear not, for I am with you,” and “Those who war against you shall be as nothing.” While meditating on those prophetic promises, she sensed the Lord was comforting her in advance of a challenging trial.

Two weeks later, she was rushed into the operating room at our local hospital for emergency abdominal surgery that revealed a bleeding, ruptured lesion the size of a football and a diagnosis of stage-four, untreatable, incurable, terminal, adrenal cancer. And although I’m thrilled to be able to jump to the conclusion of that story and tell you she experienced a miraculous healing in the end, that wouldn’t happen until after a five-year period of holding tightly to those promises the Lord had highlighted for her in Isaiah. They would anchor both of us through the toughest season of our lives.

But it was a tiny detail from that passage that would ultimately affect me the most. Referring to God’s triumph over Israel’s adversaries, the first part of Isaiah 41:12 says, "You shall seek them and not find them." So, you can imagine the explosion of joy I experienced when during Sue’s final surgery – after having seen with my own eyes the results of two different types of medical imaging that revealed the return of this aggressive disease – her surgeon left the operating room to tell me that although he could offer no logical explanation, he hadn’t been able to locate the cancer anywhere.

Since then, I read John 19:23-24 differently.

It describes how the soldiers tasked with Christ’s crucifixion went about dividing up his clothing among themselves and determining which of them would get to keep his seamless tunic. At first glance, this sad bit of subplot doesn’t seem to have any bearing on the redemption narrative. But in verse 24 when John quotes from the book of Psalms (22:18) to remind his readers that these details had been specifically foretold 600 years earlier, suddenly, the impact and importance of this seemingly insignificant part of the story become clear and demand attention.

In Ezekiel 12:25, the Lord says, “I speak, and the word which I speak will come to pass." This is true not only in generalities. It’s also true in specifics. Matthew 5:18 quotes Jesus saying, “Till heaven and earth pass away, one jot or one tittle will by no means pass from the law till all is fulfilled.” The word translated into English as 𝘫𝘰𝘵 refers to the smallest letter in the Hebrew alphabet, and the word 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 refers to a small stroke that distinguishes one Hebrew letter from another. In other words, Jesus meant that even the tiniest details of God’s promises will be fully realized.

As someone who has experienced the glory that can be packed into those tiny details, I bear witness that our God is extremely careful with his words. In the best sense of this colloquialism, “he sweats the small stuff.” The jots and tittles matter to him.

I’ll be forever grateful they do.

In just two days, I’ll celebrate the glories of Easter with exultant believers around the globe. But today, I join the family of the redeemed in remembering the price of our salvation and the love that paid it. It’s Good Friday. And this year, I’m determined not to just give token consideration to the crucifixion while on my way to basking in the glow of Christ’s resurrection. The measure of our Savior’s suffering and sacrifice deserves more than that. So, I invite you to join me in taking a fresh look at John 19:17-22.

It tells us that the blameless Son of God, having already been unjustly and severely tortured, was forced to shoulder a heavy chunk of rough-hewn timber and carry it outside Jerusalem to an infamous site known as 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘚𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭. And there, he bore a far greater weight, the totality of humanity’s sin. John spares us the gruesome details, but we know what he meant by using the word 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘥. Nails were driven into the Lord’s hands and feet to secure him to the cross he’d carried. And then, it was raised upright so crowds could gawk at his naked, bleeding body as he hung there with his precious life draining away.

As I ponder that horrible scene, I’m finding myself drawn to the juxtaposition of a couple of details I really haven’t explored before. They involve those crucified alongside Jesus that day and the sign attached to his cross. Any historical record is the product of choices made concerning what details are reported and why. So, I’m intrigued to consider the Holy Spirit’s purposes in leading John to include these.

Verse 18 says there were two others executed with Jesus. The Gospels of Matthew (27:38, 44) and Mark (15:27) describe them with a Greek word translated as 𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴. But according to 𝘝𝘪𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘋𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺, the original word refers to someone “who plunders openly and by violence.” They weren’t just petty thieves. And the fact we’re told the cross of Jesus was specifically placed in the 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 between theirs seems to indicate something the Spirit meant to be noted.

After that, four full verses of precious textual real estate are devoted to describing the sign affixed to Jesus’ cross. It was common practice in crucifixions for a placard to be made stating the criminal’s offence and attached as a warning to observers about what happens to lawbreakers. But in this case, Pilate had repeatedly declared Jesus to be innocent. And since no crime had officially been committed, it made the composition of the sign a bit of a challenge. Regardless, the passage states that the wording was ultimately dictated by the governor himself and that he vigorously defended it against the objections of the chief priests. They wanted it to sound like an accusation not an announcement. But Pilate was adamant that it read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.”

Throughout my life I’ve seen depictions of the three crosses raised on that dark day illustrated with Christ’s in the middle. But an awareness of the symbolism of that motif has never captured me as it has this Good Friday. The Father’s plan of redemption could not be accomplished from a safe distance. It required that Jesus physically step into the midst of our corruption so he could pay its penalty and deliver us from its grasp. So, it’s no surprise that 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘸𝘴 gave his life on a cross that was literally in the center of a group of sinners.

On this day of reflection, my heart swells with fresh perspective on and gratitude for the truth expressed in Philippians 2:7-8 that says Jesus "made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross."

I was fourteen years old when I first lied to my parents. It was actually the only time I was ever untruthful with them. I’d just come home from a party at a friend’s house that I hadn’t told them about, and I made up a story to cover my tracks. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I definitely and sadly remember the moment. It may sound like trivial teenage stuff, but the truth is I’d crossed a line I should have never even approached. And just like every other major event in my life, good or bad, I can recall in vivid detail when and where I was when it happened. The specifics that mark those crucial intersections in our lives get indelibly written on our souls like signposts that either point to mistakes we’ve made that need to be revisited in repentance and avoided going forward or to milestones of achievement we can build on as we advance into the future.

And I think my story may help illustrate one of the lessons to be found in John 19:12-16. Rendered speechless and unnerved by the authority-filled words his bruised, bleeding, but unbroken prisoner uttered in the previous verse, it describes the resulting, desperate determination of Pilate to find a way to release Jesus. But in the end, it also records how the governor surrendered to the forceful, full-throated demands for crucifixion from the Jewish leaders and their inflamed mob.

Even though Pilate attempted to dissuade them by revisiting the possibility Jesus might be some kind of Jewish king after all, the crowd rejected his proposal and turned it against him with a veiled threat to report him if he didn’t comply with their demands. The Jews reminded him that his job required an unwavering loyalty to Caesar. And ultimately, blinded by their feverish bloodlust, they prevailed against Pilate by emphatically declaring their own allegiance to the Roman empire.

It’s shocking to consider how the near-blasphemous statement, “We have no king but Caesar,” could have ever passed the lips of the chief priests. They were the spiritual leaders of a nation chafing under Roman rule. And they were also the ones who presided over a system of worship focused with expectancy on the coming of Messiah, the one Isaiah prophesied (9:7) would sit “upon the throne of David and over his kingdom.”

So how could they do this? Sadly, I don’t think we need to look any further than our own track record for the answer. How many times have we rejected the rule of King Jesus to give ourselves permission to say or do whatever satisfied our desires in the moment? The ability to self-authorize sinful behavior is a well-developed human skill.

And I believe that’s why the passage provides such a surprising number of precise details about this infamous moment. It says that Pilate was sitting on the judgment seat at a specific time on a specific day at a specific location. And just to make sure there could be no confusion regarding where it took place, it even gives us its Hebrew name.

Information in the Biblical record is never superfluous. And I think John supplied these particulars to forever document this as a tragic turning point. It should serve to caution all of us regarding how easy it is to ignore the conviction of the Spirit, how deceived we can become when we do, and how far we can fall as a result. So, let’s determine to allow this signpost to lead us away from that trap and toward a deeper fidelity to Jesus instead.

As Jesus stood on display before them with the blood from his wounds seeping through the purple robe Pilate’s troops had draped over him in mockery, the religious elite pressed Pilate to finish him off by nailing him to a cross. The torture already inflicted had been at the procurator’s command in a failed attempt to appease them, but he resisted their demands for crucifixion stating, for the third time, “I find no fault in him.” Then, the balance of John 19:6-11 records a tug-of-war that followed between the governor and Christ’s accusers over the subject of authority, who possessed it and on what basis.

Although the words 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 and 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺 are often used synonymously, they’re not the same thing. Power is the capability to do or accomplish something, but authority is the right to control, command, or determine it. For example, a police officer may have a gun on his belt that gives him power, but the badge on his chest is what gives him authority. In the confrontation between the Jews and the governor, there was no question who had the power to crucify Jesus. The argument was over who had the authority.

The religious leaders claimed they did and that it was based on the Mosaic law contained in Scripture. They knew that Pilate was under orders from Rome to try and keep the peace among the subjugated people of Israel by respecting their laws as much as possible. So, although misapplying it, they made the case for their authority to have Jesus crucified based on Leviticus 24:16 which says, “Whoever blasphemes the name of the Lord shall surely be put to death.” They insisted that by asserting he was the Son of God, Jesus was guilty of a capital crime.

This troubled Pilate. In fact, we’re told it seriously frightened him. After conducting his initial interrogation, he’d dismissed the Jewish leaders’ original accusation that Jesus claimed to be 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘑𝘦𝘸𝘴. In fact, he’d begun referring to him in derision using that phrase. But it’s clear that as both an employee of Caesar and a polytheist, he now found himself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. If his inaction unleashed religious unrest among the people, he would lose his job or worse. And on top of that, as someone who likely believed that offspring of the Roman gods were known to make appearances among men on occasion, he would have been terrified of the possibility he might have just signed off on having one of them whipped and beaten.

So, he retreated once again with Jesus into the Praetorium out of public view and asked him to confirm where he’d come from. And he wasn’t referring to his Israeli hometown. He certainly already had that information. He wanted assurance that this enigmatic prisoner was not from among the pantheon.

When Jesus refused to answer him, an indignant Pilate claimed to have the power to crucify or release him. But the word translated as 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 three times in verses 10 and 11 might be better rendered as 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺. And when the Lord finally responded to Pilate, it was to address that issue. Jesus made it clear he was not intimidated by the governor’s implied threat and set him straight regarding who held the authority in their relationship. Our Lord told the procurator that any authority he held was merely a grant 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦, which can also be translated as 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦. In other words, Pilate had no authority over Jesus that wasn’t explicitly given to service the will of the one who holds all authority.

You and I could benefit from gaining greater clarity about the fact that God’s authority is absolute. Jesus said, “All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18). So, whenever we find ourselves being spiritually threatened by demonic bullies or in troubling circumstances that tempt us to fear, let’s remember that we belong to the one who loves us more than we can know and has the final say over all things.