Finish Line

John 19:28-37

April 3, 2026 (Good Friday) • Mount Pleasant UMC

If you come with me to Israel sometime (I’m just getting the shameless plug out of the way early tonight), one of the places we will for sure visit is the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. The church itself dates back to the fourth century and is owned or supervised by six different Christian traditions: Greek Orthodox, Roman Catholic, Armenian, Coptic, Syriac and Ethiopian Orthodox. These six traditions, however don’t get along, so much so that the actual key to the building that unlocks and locks the huge front doors is held by a Muslim family who has had it for almost 1300 years. One physical proof of their refusal to cooperate is a ladder that was placed on a ledge outside a window sometime in the first part of the 18th century. Because of a “Status Quo” agreement that says all six have to agree before moving anything in or around the church, the ladder is still there today and has been given the name the “immovable ladder.” And every time I see it I think of Jesus’ unanswered prayer, “That they may be one” (John 17:21).

But, if you come with me to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, we would go in the front doors and immediately turn to the right where we would go up a set of steep stairs that would take us up to several smaller chapels. And further back and further in you will find an altar with a space underneath for people to crawl into. If you put your hand down into the hole under the altar, you will touch rock and that rock is said to be all that is left of one of the most important mountains in history: Mount Calvary. This mountain, buried under an ancient church, is the place where Jesus died.

Throughout Lent, we have been walking through valleys and over mountains in the Holy Land, places where significant Biblical events took place. These mountains and valleys have things to teach us through the events they witnessed. Most of them you can still go to, and so to me it’s a little sad that centuries ago most of the traditional Mount Calvary was cleared out to build this massive monumental church. Because here, on top of this hill, Jesus ended his earthly life.

It was and is the most unjust execution in human history. Jesus had done nothing to deserve the violent and cruel death he was given. He taught about loving your enemies and praying for those who persecute you (Matthew 5:44). He healed and welcomed people who were outcasts. But it was in part because he claimed to be “the way and the truth and the life” and said things like, “No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6) that he angered the religious leaders. He was no threat to Rome, the only authority who could execute someone, so the Jewish leadership designed and developed charges against him that would force Rome’s hand.

So, as we will heard in a few moments when we read the story, Jesus is arrested under the cover of night, taken secretly to the religious leaders and put through an illegal trial where he is convicted of being exactly who he claimed to be—and who he actually was, for that matter. But, again, because they could not execute him, they have to send him to Pilate, the Roman governor, and get him to agree with them, cooperate with them. It is Passover, a high and holy time of celebration, and John tells us the religious leaders wanted this done before the holiday. However, if they entered Pilate’s residence they wouldn’t be able to participate in Passover; they would be ritually unclean, so they stay outside and only talk to him there (18:28). Once the crucifixions take place, they demand the bodies be removed before sundown. I mean, crucified men really ruin a celebration. They are scrupulous about not being contaminated and yet they are wiling to participate and even instigate mob violence against an innocent man.

Then there’s the issue of authority, of who is king. On any other day, the religious leaders would reject Roman authority. Rome was the oppressor, the conqueror, the enemy. But today they claim that they have no king but Caesar (19:15). I imagine that made Pilate smile just a bit. And then the charge they level against Jesus is that he claimed to be the Messiah who is a king. Rome couldn’t care less about their religious practices and squabbles, but they will take seriously someone claiming to be a threat to Caesar. Jesus claims to be king, they say, and he needs to be killed—all to protect their religion (cf. Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 200). All to protect themselves and their perceived power. And yet—and yet, what Jesus does on the cross is for them, too. This is his time. This is his moment. This is why he came.

But that’s just it. The religious leaders don’t really have power here. In every moment, in every event, through the whole story, Jesus is in full control (McKnight, John, pg. 305). The religious leaders think they are running the narrative. Pilate is sure he is. But they all couldn’t be more wrong. Jesus is running a race they have no clue about and he is in control of it all. For all of the narrative that leads up to the crucifixion itself, the text gives us very little detail about the single most important moment in history. We do know that Jesus timed everything perfectly. He knew when the moment arrived that everything had been finished, when the race was nearing its end. According to John, there was one more Scripture Jesus needed to fulfill, and so he said, “I am thirsty” (19:28). And after the soldiers give him a drink of wine vinegar from a hyssop plant (out of compassion or cruelty is up for debate in John’s Gospel and modern scholarship), Jesus said, “It is finished” (19:30). And at that moment, not one chosen by the Romans or the religious leaders, but at the moment Jesus chose, “he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (19:30). “His life was not taken from him. He gave his life” (McKnight 306). To paraphrase Paul’s letter to Timothy, Jesus fought the good fight and finished the race (cf. 2 Timothy 4:7). The cross is the finish line.

On the mountain, Jesus spoke the words, “It is finished” (19:30). But what is “it”? His life? Yes, it was finished in the earthly sense but we will know on Sunday that what we thought was an end was anything but. So, no, that’s not what he meant. His life was not finished. His ministry? Again, no. He would spend 40 days after the resurrection continuing to teach and lead his disciples (a period which we have frustratingly few details from). What was finished? When Jesus crossed the finish line, what ended? The New Testament writers, with one voice, declare that what ended on that mountain was the power and the reign of sin over the human race. When Jesus said, “It is finished,” it was as if he was shouting, “You don’t have to live like that anymore!” Or, as Paul would later put it, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). Jesus crossed the finish line on Calvary and put an end to the power of sin once and for all (cf. Walt, Behold, The Man, pgs. 298-301). 

According to John, the last word Jesus uttered was tetelestai, a single word that is translated, “It is finished” (19:30). Tetelestai—it means that the debt is paid, the taxes are filed, the work is done, or the servant has completed his or her work (Our Daily Bread, Messiah’s Last Words, Day 6). It’s a word Jesus would have known well from his work as a carpenter. Tetelestai—the job is done, everything he came to do was completed, finished. And that means more than we think.

Sometimes, I think, we have a far too narrow view of what Jesus is doing there on the cross. We view it as a transaction. We’ve sinned, we deserve death, we owe God a debt and so Jesus paid our way. He took the punishment we deserved therefore we can go to heaven when we die. Done. Over with. And there’s nothing wrong with that idea—it’s true, wonderfully true—but that’s not all there is to Jesus’ death. There’s more happening on that mountain than just a transaction. James Bryan Smith says that when we reduce Jesus’ work on the cross to a simple transaction, we’re practicing “Vampire Christianity.” I just want a little of Jesus’ blood to make me feel better, just don’t ask for anything from me (“The Gospel is Bigger,” Things Above podcast 3/11/2026).

But the Gospel is bigger than that. It’s larger than a transaction like we might make at Walmart. Jesus himself told us that. The night before the cross, he said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). The word there is, as you might guess, “agape,” no-strings-attached love, the kind of love God has for us. The greatest demonstration of love is to give your life for someone else, and God is that kind of love. He doesn’t have that kind of love; he is that kind of love. The cross is the greatest demonstration of love in the history of the world because Jesus willingly gave his life for you and for me. The cross shows us what love looks like. And because he gave himself, we are challenged to give ourselves for the sake of others. We do what he did. We follow his example. Remember what Jesus had said when he was asked about the greatest commandment? “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength…Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these” (Mark 12:30-31). Love God, love people—because of the example Jesus set on the cross (cf. Hamilton, Why Did Jesus Have to Die?). Jesus went to the cross not just to save us in some way but to transform us. “For us and for our salvation” he died, the creed says, but salvation is about more than living in heaven when we die, as great as that will be. Jesus came and gave his life so that we could be made like him.

And he did it even though we didn’t ask him to. He did it even though we really didn’t want him to. We thought we were fine on our own; we’ve believed that since the beginning, and we still do. Politicians, celebrities and business leaders say things like, “I don’t need anyone to die for me.” But they are wrong. We do what we do because we can’t get away from this sin problem on our own so we need someone to do what we couldn’t do, to offer his life in our place and to show us what love is really all about, what it truly looks like. Paul put it this way: “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). He gave his life so we wouldn’t have to. The cross is the finish line—not just for Jesus, but for the world. This is what it’s all about. Your life of sin and mine—it is finished because of what Jesus did on the cross. Thanks be to God!