This is another in a series of excerpts from What Every Christian Should Know About the Return of Jesus, released by High Street Press and available at Amazon. 

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No one is better prepared to die than Jesus. As the Lamb of God slain from the foundation of the world (Rev. 13:8), the eternal Son of God collaborates with the Father and the Holy Spirit before creation to plan their joint redemptive work. The incarnate Christ declares that he has come to seek and save the lost, a mission requiring his death (Matt. 16:21; Luke 19:10). After Peter’s remarkable declaration of Jesus as Messiah, Son of the living God, Jesus tells his disciples he must go to Jerusalem, where he is to suffer, die, and rise again – over Peter’s objection, which Christ condemns as Satanic (Matt. 16:16-23). 

Jesus’ willingness to lay down his life reveals a divine sense of purpose, humility,  submission to the Father’s will, and keen insight into what his death is accomplishing. There’s even a sense of anticipatory mirth. As the writer of Hebrews notes, “For the joy that lay before him, he endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2).

Despite his followers’ best efforts to keep Jesus out of harm’s way, the Lamb of God walks deliberately into the slaughterhouse. In the Garden of Gethsemane, a mob with swords and clubs sets upon Jesus. Peter rushes to Jesus’ defense, lopping off the ear of the high priest’s servant with a sword. 

Rather than thank Peter, Jesus rebukes him: “Put your sword back in its place …. Do you think that I cannot call on my Father, and he will provide me here and now with more than twelve legions of angels? How, then, would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen this way?” (Matt. 26:52-54).

The rapid-fire events that follow showcase Jesus’ economy of words and laser-sharp focus. To the observer, Jesus is at the mercy of his captors. Yet, he’s completely in control, as he signaled the questioning crowds some time earlier: “I lay down my life so that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have the right to lay it down, and I have the right to take it up again. I have received this command from my Father” (John 10:17-18). 

Jesus allows himself to be arrested, bound, and led to Annas, the father-in-law of Caiaphas the high priest. He allows himself to be sent to Caiaphas, questioned by Pilate, shuttled to Herod, mocked by Roman soldiers, summoned before the Sanhedrin, brutally beaten, stripped naked, led to Golgotha, and hoisted on a cross between two criminals. 

He allows the soldiers tending his death to cast lots for his clothing. He allows the Jewish religious leaders gathered around his quivering body to taunt him to rescue himself, if he can. He allows the skies to darken and the rocks to rend as he bears the sins of humanity on his bloody back. He tends to business while struggling against asphyxiation – caring for his grieving mother, crying out in abandonment, declaring his work finished, and surrendering his spirit. 

It all seems perfectly calculated. And it is. Caiaphas and the religious leaders get what they want: the death of Jesus. Pilate gets what he wants: an escape from a Jewish insurrection. Herod gets what he wants: a few moments of entertainment at Jesus’ expense. Satan gets what he wants: a humiliating end to his creator. 

But they all figured wrongly. Yes, Pilate killed Jesus. The Sanhedrin killed Jesus. Satan killed Jesus. Sinful people killed Jesus. But ultimately, God the Father killed Jesus. And Jesus died willingly. And just three days later – on a quiet Sunday morning in spring – there is a stunning reversal of fortune. The stone of Jesus’ tomb is rolled away, and the Son of Man emerges victoriously to conquer Satan, sin, and death. 

The perfect plan

It is the perfect plan. It requires the death of Jesus. And no one is better prepared for his own death than the Son of Man. Consider just a few of Jesus’ actions and statements in the hours leading up to his death.

First, Jesus teaches openly. 

Jesus never turns anyone away who has an interest in his message – not tax collectors, prostitutes, Pharisees, Roman autocrats, or would-be disciples. “I have spoken openly to the world,” Jesus tells Annas. “I have always taught in the synagogue and in the temple, where all the Jews gather, and I haven’t spoken anything in secret” (John 18:20-21). 

If ever there was a time to soften his message or change his tune in order to save his skin, Jesus could have seized the opportunity now, standing before the religious leaders who are seeking his head. But, as always, he rejects the path of least resistance.

Not long before this scene, Jesus confronts a mob armed with swords and clubs in the darkness of Gethsemane: “Have you come out with swords and clubs, as if I were a criminal, to capture me?” he asks. “Every day I used to sit, teaching in the temple, and you didn’t arrest me. But all this has happened so that the writings of the prophets would be fulfilled” (Matt. 26:55-56).

Second, Jesus offers a kingdom perspective. 

The events surrounding Jesus’ crucifixion are more than religious chicanery or political theater. Jesus knows it and isn’t afraid to school Pilate on the particulars. “My kingdom is not of this world,” he tells the Roman governor. “If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would fight, so I wouldn’t be handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36).

“You are a king then?” Pilate asks.

“You say that I’m a king,” Jesus replies. “I was born for this, and I have come into the world for this: to testify to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice” (v. 37). 

Jesus is no threat to Pilate, the Romans, or the Jews. Quite the contrary, he is King of kings, the Savior of the world. Pilate doesn’t get the big picture, but he’s convinced Jesus does not deserve death. Yet, being a politician in an earthly kingdom, he understands the value of preventing a Jewish uprising and holding his office a little while longer.

Third, Jesus is silent when words do nothing to advance his mission. 

When the men holding Jesus start mocking and beating him, he says nothing. When they blindfold him and demand of him, “Prophesy! Who was it that hit you?” he says nothing (Luke 22:63-65). When Pilate sends Jesus to Herod, who makes sport of the Jewish prophet, Jesus says nothing (Luke 23:6-12). When Caiaphas receives false accusations against Jesus, he presses the Messiah: “Don’t you have an answer to what these men are testifying about you?” Jesus says nothing (Mark 14:55-61). When the chief priests and elders bellow accusations before Pilate, Jesus says nothing in his own defense, leading Pilate to marvel: “Don’t you hear how much they are testifying against you?” The governor is “quite amazed” (Matt. 27:12-14). 

When Roman soldiers strip Jesus, dress him in a scarlet robe, press a crown of thorns on his head, place a staff in his right hand, kneel down and mock Jesus – “Hail, king of the Jews!” – he says nothing in his own defense (Matt. 27:27-31). It is as Isaiah prophesied, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth. Like a lamb led to the slaughter and like a sheep silent before her shearers, he did not open his mouth” (Isa. 53:7).

Fourth, Jesus speaks truth to power to make his mission clear. 

Caiaphas puts the matter plainly to Jesus: “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?” (Mark 14:61). Here is a chance for Jesus to recant, to plead for mercy, to save his skin. But without skipping a beat, Jesus replies, “I am … and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven” (v. 62). 

This is more than a claim to being the Messiah, which is not necessarily blasphemous. But claiming to be the Son of Man who will sit at the right hand of Yahweh is a self-condemning statement – unless it’s true. Jesus ties himself to the Son of Man who approaches the Ancient of Days in Daniel 7:13. This is an unambiguous claim of deity – a claim so ostentatious that Caiaphas nearly strokes out when he hears it. 

The high priest tears his robes and shouts, “Why do we still need witnesses? You have heard the blasphemy. What is your decision?” Then, they all condemn him as deserving of death (Mark 14:63-64).

Before Pilate, Jesus barely speaks – until the right moment. Pilate presses Jesus, “Do you refuse to speak to me?” he asks. “Don’t you know that I have the authority to release you and the authority to crucify you?” (John 19:10).

Jesus replies, “You would have no authority over me at all if it hadn’t been given you from above” (v. 11). 

While Jesus’ claims of deity and divine power enrage the chief priest and Sanhedrin, they frighten Pilate, who seeks vainly to release Jesus (v. 12).

Fifth, Jesus focuses on the people for whom he is about to die. 

On the way to Golgotha, in such wretched physical condition that the Romans compel a bystander to carry his cross, Jesus musters enough breath to speak to women lamenting his verdict: 

“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children. Look, the days are coming when they will say, ‘Blessed are the women without children, the wombs that never bore, and the breasts that never nursed!’ Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’ For if they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?” (Luke 23:28-30).

Jesus warns these women of dark days ahead, when the nation is punished for its rejection of Messiah. This occurs in A.D. 70 at the hands of Roman commander Titus, and it is utter ruin. A siege of Jerusalem leads to infighting, starvation, and suffering long before Titus breaches the city walls. The massive invasion seeks to extinguish any and all forms of resistance. The Romans are thorough and ruthless. The temple is destroyed. The city is conquered. More than one million Jews lose their lives. If the mocking religious leaders staring up at Jesus on the cross think the Father has abandoned him, they will see true abandonment forty years later. 

But Jesus’ focus now is not to drink in the women’s pity, but to warn them as his followers to prepare for the days when Israel’s wickedness comes home to roost. It is a stern warning, and a compassionate one.

At Golgotha, Jesus is crucified between two criminals. As he surveys the scene – the spikes being driven through his wrists, the hoisting of three condemned people into the air, the crowds pressing in around him – Jesus prays simply, “Father, forgive them, because they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). His attention is outward, toward those who have beaten him severely, or petitioned the governor for his death, or scuttled to the hill to witness a gruesome scene. Jesus asks the Father to forgive them, and pleads their ignorance as a just reason.

Matthew records that those who pass by hurl insults at Jesus, shaking their heads and saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross” (Matt. 27:40).

The chief priest, along with the scribes and elders, mock Jesus as well, saying, “He saved others, but he cannot save himself! He is the King of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God rescue him now – if he takes pleasure in him! For he said, ‘I am the Son of God’” (Matt. 27:41-43). 

Even the two criminals who share Jesus’ fate join the jeering crowd. “Aren’t you the Messiah?” asks one. “Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:39). 

But Luke records that one of the thieves has a change of heart. Seeing the manner in which Jesus suffers, forgives, and cares for others while in excruciating pain, he rebukes his fellow criminal: “Don’t you even fear God, since you are undergoing the same punishment? We are punished justly, because we’re getting back what we deserve for the things we did, but this man has done nothing wrong” (Luke 23:40-41). Then, he turns to Jesus, straining against gravity to fill his lungs for one more statement, and says, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom” (v. 42).

Jesus tells the believing criminal, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (v. 43). 

That simple statement communicates much. Jesus acknowledges the criminal’s faith and rewards him with everlasting life. Jesus has the power to forgive sin (see Mark 2:1-12). His pending death would pay the criminal’s debt owed to God. His resurrection would secure everlasting life. His death would not be the end of Jesus – or the criminal. Jesus would be in paradise⁶ – heaven – that very day, and so would be the spirit of the dying criminal. Finally, all the work necessary for life eternal is accomplished in the sinless life of the Son of Man, who seeks and saves a lost man dying next to him. 

This brings up a key point: On the cross, Jesus doesn’t have to say anything in order to accomplish redemption. In profound physical pain, and deeper inner anguish as he who knew no sin became sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21), Jesus could have turned inward, enduring the pain until he breathed his last. But, instead, he speaks in brief lines that illustrate the truth that no one takes his life from him; he lays it down and will take it up again (John 10:17-18).

What remarkable self-control and sense of purpose. Jesus could come down from the cross. He could call legions of angels to rescue him and destroy those who raise their hands against him. He could vindicate himself through a miracle of self-deliverance. But instead, he perseveres, knowing his death is required to pay our sin debt.

Standing by the cross are Jesus’ mother, accompanied by John, the beloved disciple. Jesus tells Mary, “Woman, here is your son.” And to John, “Here is your mother.” In immediate and enduring obedience, John takes Mary into his home (John 19:25-27).

Next: Ready to Die: The Story of Jesus (Part 2)