John 19 - Cornerstone Biblical Commentary

19:1 had Jesus flogged. At first glance, this seems to contradict Mark and Matthew, which say Jesus was scourged after the sentencing (Matt 27:26; Mark 15:15); however, this is answered by recognizing two different beatings—the first a less severe one at this point of the trial (cf. Luke 23:16) and the second a severe scourging just before they took Jesus away to be crucified.

19:5 here is the man! There are several options for the connotation of “the man”: the emphasis could be on the Son of Man, as in 8:28—“When you have lifted up the Son of Man on the cross, then you will understand that I AM he”—or perhaps it is on Jesus as the last Adam, as in Rom 5:12-21; 1 Cor 15:45. Probably it is best to see Jesus in his true humanity as the God-man, the Word become flesh (cf. Brown, Whitacre).

19:7 he called himself the Son of God. Brown (1995:534-544) notes five possibilities behind the Jewish charge of blasphemy: (1) He called himself Messiah, but there were many messianic aspirants in the first century. (2) He called himself Son of God; Brown doubts Jesus used the title, but it is certainly part of the solution. (3) He claimed to be Son of Man and to come on the clouds of heaven (Mark 14:62), but this is not enough to constitute blasphemy in and of itself. (4) Some claimed he said he’d destroy the Temple, but this was not linked with a charge of blasphemy. (5) He was a false prophet and as such deceived the people, but this was not centrally addressed in the trial. Bock (2000:234-236) moves toward a solution: (1) Blasphemy per se was an inappropriate use of the divine name, but there were also acts of blasphemy, such as idolatry or disrespect toward God. (2) Only a few were allowed to approach the Holy God; even the archangel Michael is never depicted as seated before God; so for Jesus to claim to be “seated in the place of power at God’s right hand” (Mark 14:62) would have been blasphemous. (3) This was not a capital trial but a hearing before the Sanhedrin in order to gain material to use before Pilate. (4) Sources for information regarding this trial were plentiful: Joseph of Arimathea, Nicodemus. (5) There were two levels of blasphemy: Jesus’ claim to possess comprehensive authority from God (the “Son of God” title would function here), and his claim to be the future judge of the Jewish leaders themselves (a violation of Exod 22:28 on not cursing God’s leaders). This latter would also be used as a sociopolitical challenge to Rome’s authority.

For Pilate, there would be two, perhaps three connotations: (1) The emperor was also called “son of God,” and so this continued their charge of sedition. (2) In a Greco-Roman context, this could also place Jesus in the category of “divine man”—a term used of people so filled with virtue and wisdom that they were seen to be virtually “divine.” (3) For centuries nations had deified their emperors (e.g., Egypt, Cyrus in Persia), and in Rome, Julius Caesar and Augustus were deified after their deaths (it became “the imperial cult” by the time Revelation was written). Tiberias allowed a temple to be built in his name in 25 AD but said to the Senate, “I am a mere mortal, and divine honors belong only to Augustus, the real savior of mankind” (Tacitus, Annals 4.37-38). It is conceivable that Pilate saw an implicit claim to deity, but the most likely option is the second, based on Jesus’ role in society.

19:13 Pilate sat down. There has long been a debate regarding whether the verb is intransitive (“Pilate sat down”) or transitive (“Pilate sat Jesus down on the judge’s seat”). Some scholars (Lightfoot, Haenchen, Meeks, Barrett) have argued that the verb could be transitive and that Pilate placed Jesus on his tribunal (probably on another chair beside himself). If so, he would be making another contemptuous reference (to the Jews) regarding Jesus’ kingship. If this were so, it would also hint that as the Jewish people cried for his crucifixion, Jesus faced them as their judge. Most recent scholars (Brown, Beasley-Murray, Carson, Ridderbos, Burge, Köstenberger) find this interesting but not likely, for here the bēma [TG968, ZG1037] was certainly the judgment seat itself. While Jesus was certainly seen (and mocked) as King throughout the arrest and trial, he was not considered as judge, and Pilate’s sitting him on a seat beside his bēma would not communicate this strongly enough to make the proposed contemptuous reference. Moreover, the judgment seat was the sign of Pilate’s office, and for Pilate to misuse it in this way was not very likely.

19:14 about noon. Lit., “the sixth hour.” This creates a discrepancy with Mark 15:25 and 15:33, which tell us that Jesus was crucified at the “third hour” (= 9 A.M.) and that darkness started at the sixth hour. Some ancient mss (e.g., the corrector of Sinaiticus) harmonized John with Mark by changing the time to the third hour. Some scholars (e.g., Westcott) think John was using the Roman method of marking time (which began with midnight), thus making this 6 A.M. Neither is likely. The answer is probably to be seen in the way the ancients told time. Rather than hours and minutes, they thought in terms of “watches,” with the nighttime and daytime consisting of four three-hour watches. Most likely the verdict and placing of Jesus on the cross occurred at some time between 9 A.M. and noon, and so in noting the “hour” of an event, one writer (e.g., John) could easily have rounded the time up to “about noon”, while another (e.g., Mark) rounded it down to 9 A.M. (so Morris, Carson, Burge, Blomberg).

In John, this trial scene is handled in a way opposite that of the previous “trial.” John shortened the Sanhedrin trial (18:19-24) by omitting the scene before Caiaphas, but he expanded the trial before Pilate (18:28–19:16a) with a great deal of material not found in the Synoptics. As such, this text presents a dramatic seven-scene masterpiece. It is common to think of this as chiastic, with 19:1-3 being the central scene (so Brown, Whitacre, Burge, Blomberg, Keener).

The Jewish contingent stopped at the door of the palace lest they become ritually impure and be unable to take part in the Passover ceremonies (18:28b). The Passover celebration began that evening, and the Jews could not take a chance of being ritually defiled. It is not that Gentiles by nature were unclean but that there were many causes of defilement in a Gentile house, like yeast (Bruce) or road dust from foreign lands or even the presence of Pilate’s wife (Matt 27:19) since Gentile women did not observe levitical rules regarding menstruation. Also, Gentiles were thought to bury the bodies of aborted fetuses in their homes or flush them into their sewers, thereby rendering any Jewish person unclean by being in contact with a corpse (a seven-day defilement, see Brown, Carson). So the Jews stayed outside. Since the Passover meal was eaten the night before, the Jews present were concerned about the hagigah meal celebrated the morning of Passover day (see the note on 13:1), which would have been shortly after this trial. This began the seven-day celebration of the Festival of Unleavened Bread, which started the day after Passover (they were considered a single feast and together called Passover). Each of the festive meals was a “Passover” meal. Any defilement whatsoever, whether one-day or seven-day, would prohibit full participation in the festival.

Throughout the trial, Pilate had to go outside into the courtyard to meet with the Jews. It is this which gives the scene its movement inside and outside. Some scholars (e.g., Haenchen) have thought this historically unlikely since Pilate would never lower himself to go to meet the Jewish authorities, but Brown comments (1966: 859), “How can one be so sure? Were there never moments when Pilate, like other politicians, had to swallow his pride in order to avert worse trouble?” The scene as a whole is very plausible in light of Jewish sensitivities and the type of politics at play during Passover.

Since Roman soldiers had been involved in the arrest, Pilate knew the Jews would be coming and so was prepared. First, he asked a formal question as to their “charge against this man” (18:29). This caused great consternation, and their reply at first glance seems rather insolent: “We wouldn’t have handed him over to you if he weren’t a criminal!” (18:30). Yet remember that Pilate had sent a detachment of soldiers, possibly indicating a preliminary agreement between Pilate and the Sanhedrin, leading the authorities to expect Pilate to rubber-stamp their judgment and order the execution (so Beasley-Murray, Carson). When Pilate began another formal trial, they were nonplussed.

Since they had no formal charge, Pilate sarcastically told them to “judge him by your own law” (18:31). He was certainly aware of the trial that they had just finished but wanted to show his contempt for them and his desire to demonstrate their impotence, thus humiliating them (so Schnackenburg). This forced the Jews to state their true desire to see Jesus killed at the outset, thereby highlighting their guilt: “Only the Romans are permitted to execute someone” (18:31). They wanted Jesus dead (decided long before, Cf. 5:18; 7:19; 8:40, 59; 10:31; 11:50) and wanted it now, irrespective of a fair trial. The Jews could have requested to kill Jesus themselves, probably by stoning or strangling, but they “probably want him crucified (19:6, 15) not only because it was a particularly brutal and painful form of death, but because it would signify that Jesus is accursed by God (Deut 21:23, cf. Gal 3:13)” (Whitacre 1999:439). John saw this as a fulfillment of Jesus’ prophecy that he would be “lifted up from the earth” (12:32; Cf. 3:14; 8:28). God was in sovereign control even over Jesus’ opponents.

In the Synoptic accounts, Jesus responded, “You have said it” (Mark 15:2 and parallels). John records this at 18:37 and inserts a lengthy section in which Jesus clarifies the true meaning of his kingship. Jesus’ response here (18:34) shows his awareness of the political repercussions. If the question came from Pilate himself, then Jesus could probe whether he was perceived as a political threat or whether there might be some interest on Pilate’s part; then Jesus could instruct him more deeply. If the question came from the Jewish leaders (as Jesus suspected), then it was an antagonistic question and stemmed from a deep misunderstanding of the nature of Jesus’ kingship. Pilate’s response shows great irritation: “Am I a Jew?” (it begins with mēti [TG3385, ZG3614] in Greek and can be translated, “I am not a Jew, am I?”) He made it clear that he had no personal interest in the issue. The charge came entirely from the Jewish people and the leading priests. They turned Jesus over to Pilate, and he wanted to find out why: “What have you done?” (18:35). Like all Romans, he was mystified at the whole scenario. Jesus obviously was not a military man, an insurrectionist. How could he have the Jewish authorities so inflamed?

Jesus clarified the nature of his royal office (18:36). He did not directly answer Pilate’s question about what he had done but instead told Pilate in negative fashion who he was. This was a very astute answer. It not only removed the charges that Jesus was a threat to Rome but challenged Pilate (and John’s readers) with the otherworldly character of Jesus’ “kingdom” (this verse is the last time the term appears in John, Cf. 3:3, 5). Earlier, Jesus defined his origin as “from above” rather than from this world (8:23; Cf. 3:31), and in the same way he defined his kingship for Pilate as “not of this world.” “Kingdom” here refers to his kingly reign. While this term rarely occurs in John (contra the Synoptics), Beasley-Murray (1987:330) rightly notes that “the whole Gospel is concerned with the kingship of God in Jesus.” In one sense, Jesus was saying his kingship was no threat to Pilate; in another sense, he was revealing to Pilate a whole other realm of reality he knew nothing about. Jesus also wanted to protect his followers (Cf. 18:8) and added, “If it were, my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over” (18:36). Of course, Peter did just that (18:10-11), but Jesus told him to put away his sword. He wanted Pilate to realize that he led no band of insurrectionists against Rome. Jesus’ rule was at a different level; his Kingdom is not of this world, though it is at work in this world. It functions on the spiritual rather than the political plane.

Pilate recognized that Jesus was nonetheless making some kind of royal claim, so he probed further (18:37): “So you are a king?” Jesus’ answer was somewhat vague and could be translated, “King is your word, not mine” (so Dodd, Bruce, Whitacre). It could also be more positive, basically affirming the reality of it (so Beasley-Murray, Carson). Ambiguity seems more likely in this context. Jesus did not want to play the political game. He had affirmed his kingly role but did not want the label. Instead, he wanted to go more deeply into his true purpose and mission. Then Jesus stated the true purpose of his incarnation: “to testify to [lit., “bear witness to”] the truth.” Jesus’ Kingdom is a kingdom of truth. Here we find another of the major themes of the book, noted first in 1:14 where the incarnate shekinah, the Word made flesh, was (literally) “full of grace and truth,” meaning “full of [God’s] unfailing love and faithfulness.” Jesus is truth (14:6), and his revelation of the Father is truth itself (8:31-32, 40; 17:17), made known to us by the Spirit of truth (14:17; 16:13-14). Burge says it well (2000:501): “It is reality lived out in divine light, which by virtue of its spiritual link with God is thereby genuinely truthful and honest” (italics his).

Finally, Jesus gave Pilate a chance to respond. This is an area that a Hellenist like Pilate could relate to—namely, the issue of “truth.” Jesus said, “All who love the truth [hint—do you love the truth, Pilate?] recognize that what I say is true” (18:37). The positions were reversed; Jesus became the interlocutor, and Pilate was challenged to choose truth over falsehood. Unfortunately, Pilate rejected the invitation. His curt, “What is truth?” was in effect a dismissal of Jesus’ offer. He knew that Jesus posed no threat to Rome and that the charges of the Sanhedrin against Jesus were invalid. At the same time, he wanted no more of Jesus’ message of truth than they did and so sadly joined the legion of unbelievers. His reply is justly famous, for it is the heart-cry of all seekers of truth. With it, John asked his readers to search their hearts for an openness to “truth,” especially the truth of Jesus.

When he asked the people whether he should release Jesus, he could not help but throw out one more barb to the Jewish leaders and say, “Would you like me to release this ‘King of the Jews’?” (18:39). On his part, there is a definite tinge of sarcasm and contempt; he presented it as if he agreed with the title and thought Jesus an apt king of this rabble. At the same time, John and his readers could see another unconscious prophecy similar to Caiaphas in 11:50-52. Jesus was indeed the “King of the Jews,” and his own people were demanding the death of their royal Messiah! Yet Pilate’s plan backfired, for he had underestimated the resolve of Jesus’ enemies. The crowd shouted back, “No! Not this man. We want Barabbas” (18:40). Barabbas was an insurrectionist (lēstēs [TG3027, ZG3334]) who had committed murder—possibly the leader of the two who would be crucified with Jesus. He could have been the leader of the rebellion mentioned in Luke 23:18-19, 25 (so Comfort and Hawley). This may have been another strategic error on Pilate’s part; to the Romans, Barabbas was a murderous terrorist, but to many Jews he may have been a folk hero, an ancient Robin Hood. The irony of the scene is very great, especially if the variant scribal reading in Matthew 27:16 (cf. NLT mg) is correct and Barabbas’s name was “Jesus Barabbas”: the crowd was choosing between two men named “Jesus” (a name meaning “God saves”), with both being “the son of the father” (the meaning of “Bar Abbas”). The types of salvation the two offered were quite different, however: temporal deliverance by the sword versus eternal deliverance by a Savior (so Whitacre).

As was typical in such situations, the prisoner was made the butt of cruel jokes by the soldiers. Since Jesus had been charged as “king of the Jews,” the soldiers gave him mock homage, undoubtedly laughing raucously as they inflicted one painful humiliation after another. They wove thorns together to make a crown, probably imitating the radiant corona worn by rulers, appearing on many coins from that time. The thorns may have come from the type of thornbushes mentioned in Isaiah 34:13 or the date palm, which had much longer thorns, up to 12 inches in length (cf. Hart 1952:70-74). If the latter, there is further irony since the same palm tree yielded the branches used to hail Jesus as king just five days earlier. Then they dressed Jesus in a mock robe of royal purple (probably an officer’s cloak, perhaps a deep red similar to purple [few soldiers could afford purple]), the color worn by emperors. A number of times (imperfect tense) they mimicked the “Ave Caesar” cry (so Brown), but instead of bowing before Jesus in submission, they struck him in the face to show their contempt. Once again, however, they did more than they thought, for they were truly addressing the “King of all kings and Lord of all lords” (Rev 19:16).

The priests and Temple guards, not listening to Pilate, led the cry: “Crucify him! Crucify him!” (19:6). There was to be no mercy for Jesus. Their cry also shows that their charge against Jesus involved sedition against Rome because crucifixion was used primarily for enemies of the state. This angered Pilate, who knew Jesus was not such, so he responded, “Take him yourselves and crucify him.” He knew they could not do so (Cf. 18:31b) but was filled with disgust that they refused to accept his verdict. Since Pilate did not have the courage of his convictions (i.e., to release Jesus), he resorted to legalities, but they were not working. This goaded the Jewish authorities into revealing the true nature of their charges. They realized the political charge would not work, for Pilate had said three times that he rejected their arguments. They turned to the true religious nature of their demand for Jesus’ death: “By our law he ought to die because he called himself the Son of God” (19:7). By Roman law he might be innocent, but by Jewish law he had to die!

This was actually the verdict of the Sanhedrin trial in the Synoptics (Matt 26:62-66 and parallels). The charge was blasphemy against the name of God (Lev 24:16, “Anyone who blasphemes the Name of the LORD must be stoned to death”). Later this was narrowed to uttering the divine name “Yahweh” (m. Sanhedrin 7:5; the tetragrammaton was regarded as too sacred to be pronounced by human beings), but in the first century it was interpreted more broadly. While the title “Son of God” could be used for celestial beings (Gen 6:2; Ps 29:1, NLT mg) or kings (2 Sam 7:14; Ps 2:7) or the Messiah (4Q174 1:10-11), Jesus’ opponents rightly saw that he used it to make himself equal with God (5:17-18; 10:30, 33-37).

Pilate’s response (“more frightened than ever,” 19:8) seems strange in light of his obvious disdain for the Jewish leaders. Part of the explanation is the fact that while Pilate was predominantly interested in Roman issues, he was still obligated by his office to keep the Jewish peace as well, and that involved sensitivity to Jewish religious interests. Pilate had never truly cared for that aspect of his office, but he would be held accountable for it by Rome; that may have frightened him somewhat. Still, while this may be part of it, it is clear in the context that his fear was directed to the title “Son of God” (“When Pilate heard this, he was more frightened”). As a Roman, he may have been startled by the “Son of God” title, thinking that if Jesus was indeed a “divine man” (cf. note on 19:7), he might be a messenger from the gods or even a god come down in human form. Pilate “was superstitious enough to be fearful of getting on the wrong side of the gods” (Witherington 1995:293), especially since he had just had Jesus flogged! Note also that his wife had warned him about Jesus because of a nightmare she’d had (Matt 27:19). This would heighten his fear (so Schnackenburg, Beasley-Murray, Blomberg).

Jesus reminded Pilate of a higher truth: he would have no power “unless it were given to [him] from above” (19:11). This was meant by Jesus as a claim that God was the true source of Pilate’s authority. Jesus is “from above” (3:31; Cf. 3:3), and all authority stems from that realm. There may also be a hint that the Father had given that authority over to Jesus, so Jesus rather than Pilate controlled the outcome here. Pilate, however, undoubtedly interpreted it to mean that Rome had the true power. Jesus added, “The one who handed me over to you has the greater sin” (19:11). Pilate was sinning by not having the courage to release Jesus; God had given him the authority to do the right thing, but he had not done so. Yet there was another who was more guilty. There is some question as to the identity of this individual. Judas seems a good candidate since he did “betray” Jesus or hand him over (6:71; 13:21; 18:2)—but he had disappeared from the scene by this time, and he did not personally hand Jesus over to Pilate. A better option is Caiaphas, the high priest over those who actually “handed over” Jesus (18:30, 35). He presided over the Sanhedrin and its decision.

In what sense was Caiaphas (who probably stands for the Jewish leaders as a whole) more guilty than Pilate? It was in the fact that Jesus came to be the Jewish Messiah spoken of in their own Scriptures, and they rejected him with impunity. Moreover, Caiaphas spearheaded all the events that led to Jesus’ trial before Pilate. At this point, it is critical to understand the exact nature of Jewish guilt because misuse of it has led to tragedy—for example, the erroneous labeling of modern Jews as “Christ-killers,” and other libelous ideas leading to the pogroms and the Holocaust. The book of Acts makes it clear that the recognition of this guilt by the early church did not lead to anti-Semitism even against the Jews of Jesus’ generation but rather to an evangelistic invitation. In the sermons of Acts, the message is, “You put Christ on the cross, and he died for you, so believe in him and find salvation” (Cf. 2:36-39; 3:15-19; 13:27-31, 38-40).

The fact that Jesus posed no threat to Rome no longer mattered. Pilate’s career was at stake, so Jesus had to go. As is so often the case, politics won out over truth. Pilate finally brought Jesus outside to face his accusers as he delivered the verdict (19:13). He sat on the bēma [TG968, ZG1037], or judge’s seat. John emphasizes this scene by telling us the area was called “Stone Pavement,” or in Hebrew, “Gabbatha” (its meaning is disputed but could be “high place” or “hill”; cf. Josephus War 5.2.1). Such a paved area with stones has recently been found in the Tower of Antonia, but it is now recognized to be from the time of Hadrian. Instead, it is likely that John references a raised area at the governor’s residence, Herod the Great’s former palace (the same site for the scene as in the Synoptics; so Keener, Köstenberger). John emphasized this because it is the climactic scene, not just in the trial but in the Passion event as a whole. Here God’s will was accomplished; he had allowed human depravity to come full circle in order to provide the final solution for sin, the atoning sacrifice of his Son. Next, John tells us it was “about noon” (lit., “the sixth hour”) on the “day of preparation” for the Passover events. If this were the day before Passover, it would be the time when the lambs were slaughtered, a powerful symbol for Jesus as the true Paschal Lamb (so Grigsby 1982), but that is unlikely (for the chronological issue, see note on 13:1). Rather, the day is Friday, the time of preparing for the Sabbath of Passover Week (the start of the Festival of Unleavened Bread). John’s purpose is simply to highlight this moment by emphasizing both the place and the date on which it occurred.

Instead of making a formal decision, Pilate, one last time, showed his disdain for the Jewish leaders by proclaiming, “Look, here is your king!” (19:14b). As Hendriksen says (1953:421), “It was born of sullen resentment. Such is your king, O Jews, shackled, weak, defenseless, bloody, sentenced to a horrible death, at your own request!” Yet there is also another unconscious testimony (11:50-52; 18:33, 37, 39; 19:5). They were actually crucifying not just their king but the king of the ages. The response of the crowd was tumultuous: “ ‘Away with him,’ they yelled. ‘Away with him! Crucify him!’ ” (19:15). Pilate said one last time in mockery, “What? Crucify your king?” The final retort by the leading priests is telling: “We have no king but Caesar.” Thus they denied the biblical injunction that God alone is King (cf. Judg 8:23; 1 Sam 8:7; 10:19). In effect, they were denying not just the royal office of the Messiah but God himself; at the same time, they were rejecting the antipathy that much of Judaism harbored toward Roman rule (though the leading priests were already pro-Roman for the most part).

Then in complete capitulation, Pilate handed Jesus over for crucifixion (19:16a). As with the Synoptics, John does not record the actual sentence but implies it. Note that John said he handed Jesus over to “them,” which in the context would be the Jews. While this was not technically correct, it does fit the theme of Jewish guilt (so Brown, Schnackenburg, Comfort, Ridderbos; contra Lindars, Carson, who take it to be the soldiers). Pilate allowed the Jewish authorities to have their way and turned Jesus over to the soldiers to prepare him for crucifixion.

19:17 Carrying the cross by himself. The church fathers saw a connection between Jesus bearing his own cross and Isaac carrying the wood to his own sacrifice (Gen 22:6).

19:25 Standing near the cross. Barrett (1978:551) thinks this story unlikely because the Romans would not have allowed anyone near Jesus due to fear of rebellion. Carson (1991:615-616) points out that the Roman auxiliary would hardly be worried by a few women in deep mourning or by a single disciple without weapons. Also, the sign above the cross was meant to be read, and if people were allowed close enough to read, they would be close enough to converse with Jesus. Another problem is the fact that the women were standing “near the cross,” while in the Synoptics they were some distance away (Mark 15:40 and parallels). It is not difficult, however, to imagine them standing at a distance as they saw Jesus suffering and then drawing nearer as the end drew near (so Beasley-Murray, Carson).

19:26 the disciple he loved. As already stated (cf. note on 13:23), this was most likely John, who celebrated with a sense of awe the intimate relationship he had with Jesus. The possibility that he was also Jesus’ cousin is based on the identification of Salome, the mother of James and John in Matt 27:56, with “his mother’s sister” here (cf. Bruce, Morris, Comfort and Hawley, Burge).

19:29 a hyssop branch. Since the hyssop stalk was fairly short, some (e.g., Bultmann, Tasker, NEB) have conjectured that the original term was “javelin” (hussō [[TG53001, ZG5726]) rather than “hyssop” (hussōpō [TG5301, ZG5727]). This would certainly fit the fact that it was a soldier sharing his wine with Jesus, but there is very little support (two very late cursive mss, 476 and 1242), and there is not much of a possibility that all the earlier mss had the wrong term. Moreover, these were auxiliary troops, and they would not have been issued javelins (so Bruce), leading to the conclusion that this is an interesting but unlikely conjecture. Moreover, the cross was only 7–8 feet tall, and they would not have needed a javelin to reach Jesus’ lips.

19:31-37 Many scholars (Westcott, Brown, Bruce, Whitacre) place 19:31-37 with 19:38-42 on the grounds that both passages involve requests and discuss what happened to Jesus’ body. John 19:31-37 is more closely related to Jesus’ death (19:28-30), however; his body was still on the cross. Here it is the final episode of the Crucifixion narrative. At feast times, measures would have always been taken to ensure that the bodies of the crucified could be removed before sunset (cf. Brown).

19:34 blood and water flowed out. Many physicians and others throughout history have speculated on what caused both “blood and water” to flow: (1) The traditional view was that Jesus’ heart burst (therefore he died of a broken heart), but that is not likely medically. (2) The lance pierced Jesus’ heart, with the blood flowing from the heart and the water from the pericardial sac, along with ascitic fluid from the abdomen accumulated during the process of crucifixion (Edwards et al. 1986:1455-1463). (3) Pleural fluid (that appears like water) would not flow out but rather gather around the lung, so the blood and water had accumulated just inside the rib cage (the effects of the scourging, accumulating while he hung on the cross) between the chest lining and the lung (Sava 1960). Whatever the medical reasons, John was stressing the reality of Jesus’ death as well as the horrific nature of it. For water to accumulate in the pericardium, pleural space, or abdomen implies an immense stress on the body far out of the range of any ordinary death (so Dr. John Dunlop, a medical practitioner).

Scholars have long speculated on the symbolic overtones of the blood and water: (1) Historically, it has been common to see a sacramental thrust, with the water symbolizing baptism and the blood the Eucharist (Chrysostom, Augustine, Brown), but this certainly does not fit Johannine themes. (2) In keeping with the use of the symbols in John, the blood could refer to Jesus’ sacrificial death as the basis of eternal life, and the water to the cleansing work of the Spirit within (Dodd, Schnackenburg, Morris, Carson, Keener). (3) This is Passover symbolism, in which the legs of the sacrifice are not to be broken (Cf. 19:36 below), and the fact that the lamb was a living sacrifice was shown by the flow of blood when the throat was cut (Ford 1969; Grigsby 1982). It is difficult to know if John had intended any special symbolic thrust. If so, either of the last two are good possibilities.

19:35 He speaks the truth. There is debate over the referent of the pronoun “he” (ekeinos [TG1565, ZG1697], “that one”). The options are as follows: (1) The author referred to himself, the beloved disciple who wrote the fourth Gospel (Westcott, Morris, Carson, Köstenberger). (2) The ekeinos refers to Christ, who provides valid testimony to himself (8:14) (Hoskyns). (3) The later church is attesting to the truth of the witness (John) in a manner similar to 21:24 (Michaels, Whitacre). Of these, the first is the most likely. There is nothing in the context to suggest Christ as the witness, and the details of this verse differ enough from 21:24 to make the third option unlikely.

John presents a very dramatic, tightly controlled, and unique portrait of Jesus’ crucifixion, emphasizing that the central moment in human history had arrived. Its connection with the Synoptic portrait is obvious. John’s Gospel parallels them in terms of Jesus bearing his cross, the two criminals crucified with him, the inscription, the dividing of his garments, the women who were witnesses, Jesus’ receiving sour wine to drink, and Jesus’ death. Yet a great deal is omitted as well—Simon of Cyrene carrying the cross, Jesus refusing the wine at the start, the taunts, the darkness, the cry of dereliction, the earthquake, the tearing of the Temple veil, and the centurion’s cry. Moreover, even as John generally followed the synoptic events, he provided new material: the universal witness of the inscription and the consternation it caused, the details in the dividing of the garments, the Scripture-fulfillment quotations, Jesus’ giving of his mother to John, the last cry, and the piercing of Jesus’ side. John provides his own very stylized portrait, and the theological emphases are central: the sovereign control of Jesus; the Cross as his throne, anointing him as royal Messiah; and the Cross as his exaltation, lifting him up to glory. Culpepper (1997:34-36) believes that the four scenes of the Crucifixion were chosen by John also to illuminate the ecclesiological results: the church originates at the Cross and finds both its meaning and destiny in it.

The poles for the crucifixions may have stayed upright at the site since it was apparently a regular place for crucifixions. (Some, however argue that it was not the regular site for executions since a Jewish tomb was nearby (19:41) and a tomb would not be placed near an execution site; so Brown). If that was the case, it would have been erected just for this execution. Usually the pole was not more than seven feet high or so—just enough to get the feet off the ground. When they wanted the person to die more quickly (as on this day because the prisoners had to be dead before dusk due to Passover), they would nail the wrists (not the hands) to the crossbeam, hoist it up to the pole, and then nail the feet with one six-inch spike through the ankles to the pole. It is difficult to imagine the pain—Jesus’ back was ripped right to the bone by the scourging, and he had nails through his wrists and ankles. The Romans would also place a sedecula or seat (a small block of wood placed just above the buttocks) on the cross so the condemned man could rest occasionally and prolong the agony. Death would come by asphyxiation and could take several days if the person was only tied up on the cross. The hands would slowly turn to gangrene since the circulation was cut off, and the agony would be beyond imagination until the victim finally died. Crucifixion is commonly thought to be the worst torture ever devised. Roman citizens could not be crucified except by direct edict of Caesar, and to the Jews it connoted being cut off from the covenant people since it was “hanging from the tree” (Deut 21:23; cf. Gal 3:13).

It is difficult to know why the site was named the “Place of the Skull” (Aramaic, Golgotha). It may have had the appearance of a skull, or it could have been named as such because it was a place of execution (though if it was not the regular site [see above], that would not be true). Most agree that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (inside the walls of the Old City of Jerusalem today) is more likely than Gordon’s Calvary (outside the walls of the Old City today) as the locale for it (so Brown, Carson, Blomberg, Keener). The walls of Jerusalem in Jesus’ day were in completely different spots than they are today.

Two other criminals were crucified with Jesus, one on each side, fulfilling Isaiah 53:12, “he was counted among the rebels.” Mark 15:27 tells us that they, like Barabbas, were insurrectionists or terrorists. John omitted their taunts and the conversion of the one (cf. Luke 23:39-43), again probably in order to center on Jesus.

It was also common to state the crime in several languages because the Romans wanted to make this a warning to the populace as a deterrent to crime. Hebrew/Aramaic was the language of the populace, Latin the official language of Rome and the military, and Greek the common language of the empire. When the leading priests objected, wanting it to say “He said, I am King of the Jews,” Pilate contemptuously dismissed them with “What I have written, I have written” (19:21-22). They wanted to make this no more than Jesus’ self-claim, but Pilate wished to humiliate them. In doing so, however, he turned it into a virtually worldwide proclamation of Jesus’ kingship. “So here we have another irony: the man who does not have a clue about the truth (18:38) proclaims, unwittingly, the truth about Jesus. And we have the tragedy of the representatives of the one true God, who should have recognized the truth, continuing to reject it” (Whitacre 1999:459).

The purpose of the scene is to emphasize how it fulfilled Scripture, specifically Psalm 22:18, “They divide my garments among themselves and throw dice for my clothing” (19:24). This begins a major element of the Crucifixion scene, with four fulfillment passages (19:24, 28, 36, 37). Fulfillment of Scripture is not emphasized in John as much as in Matthew or Luke, so this is unusual. It may be that “in a missionary document addressed to Jews as well as Gentiles a defense of the close of Jesus’ life was felt to be necessary. It had to be shown that what happened to Jesus was in accord with a divine plan, as revealed in Holy Writ” (Witherington 1995:308). John, in fact, described the event on the basis of the quote from Psalm 22, with the division of the garments described in 19:23a and the gambling over the tunic described in 19:23b-24a. Moreover, we have here a progressive surrender of Jesus’ earthly attachments—first his clothes, then his family (particularly his mother), and finally his life itself (so Michaels).

As Jesus was near death, he looked down and saw his mother standing near the beloved disciple and decided to forge a new family relationship so as to ensure the security of his mother. The language he used (“Dear woman, here is your son . . . Here is your mother”) is found in Jewish family law when a person is legally entrusted to another (Stauffer 1960a:113). Needless to say, this is a beautiful scene and demonstrates the incredible love of Jesus for his own, even during the agony of his death. (Family responsibilities in Judaism were taken very seriously.) Mary was being told she had a new son to take care of her. More importantly, they were also related by faith. Roman Catholic exegetes have seen this more as the naming of Mary as the mother of John and therefore of the church (so Brown, Schnackenburg); however, the atmosphere of the passage makes it more likely that Jesus’ mother was placed into the care of John, who took her “into his home” rather than vice versa (so Beasley-Murray). With Dodd (1953a:423), it is best to say that all attempts at symbolism (e.g., John and Mary form a new Adam and Eve [Witherington] or portray Jewish and Gentile Christianity [Bultmann]) are “singularly unconvincing.” If there is a theological thrust, it is best to say they represent the family relationship that is to typify the new community of the church (so Kysar, Ridderbos, Whitacre).

Only John tells us that the soldiers placed the sponge on a hyssop plant in order to give it to Jesus. Matthew 27:48 and Mark 15:36 say they gave it to Jesus on a “stick” or branch. Probably it was a stalk of hyssop, for a mere sprig of hyssop would not hold the weight of the sponge or allow them to lift it up to Jesus’ lips. The stalks did not grow very long, but they would not have to lift it too high since Jesus’ feet were only slightly above the ground. A soldier could reach Jesus’ mouth easily. Beetham and Beetham (1993:164-167) say the hyssop was placed on a “sprinkle reed,” which is linked with purification rites in the Old Testament. Hyssop had important implications at Passover because it was used to put the blood of the lamb on the doorframe and sides of the posts (Exod 12:22). The fact that Jesus died on the first day of Passover is significant, and thus many believe the hyssop symbolized Jesus’ death as the paschal sacrifice (so Brown, Grigsby 1982, Bruce, Whitacre, Burge, Köstenberger contra Beasley-Murray, Carson; see also on 1:29).

After he tasted the drink (19:30), Jesus cried out one final time (cf. the “loud cry” in Mark 15:37), “It is finished!” He had completed his mission (finishing the work God gave him; 4:34; 17:4) and fulfilled his destiny. There is both a temporal (“It is ended”) and a theological (“It is accomplished”) aspect to his words (so Beasley-Murray). If the Passover implications are correct, they emphasize that he had carried out his atoning work on the cross (a major emphasis in John, Cf. 1:29; 10:11, 15; 11:50, 52; 18:14). He had become the sacrifice for sin and had procured eternal life for mankind—the age of salvation could begin. Still in sovereign control, even at the last moment, Jesus “bowed his head” and “gave up his spirit” to the Father (cf. “breathed his last,” Mark 15:37 = Luke 23:46). Jesus had earlier said, “No one can take my life from me. I sacrifice it voluntarily” (10:18). That is precisely the case here. Obedient to the Father to the very end, he relinquished his life to him.

The soldiers worked from the two sides, breaking the legs of the two criminals first (19:32-33). On the basis of Mark 15:33-34, this was probably shortly after 3 P.M., which would make sense because this would have allowed for the death and removal of the victims before sundown. When they reached Jesus, they undoubtedly said, “He’s dead; no need for this here” (so Bruce). Just to make sure, one of the soldiers reached up and thrust his spear into Jesus’ side. This was not just a gentle jab but a violent thrust deep within, for “immediately blood and water flowed out” (on the medical and symbolic possibilities, see the note on 19:34). John’s primary purpose was certainly to prove the reality of Jesus’ death. It is possible that the same docetic heresy confronted in 1 John is answered here. These false teachers denied that the Messiah could be human and asserted that he only appeared to be so (cf. 1 John 2:22-23; 4:2-4; 5:5-6; cf. especially 5:6, “by water and blood”). Such a Messiah could not truly die but only appear to die. John wanted his readers to understand that the royal Messiah had truly died (so Beasley-Murray, Carson, Köstenberger).

John anchors the reality of Jesus’ death (and the blood and water flowing out) by telling us that this came from accurate eyewitness testimony (namely his own, 19:35). He wanted his readers to realize the absolute reliability of his account of the Crucifixion. This is important evidence that the early church believed the details to be historically accurate. In John, this is paralleled by 21:24 (“his account of these things is accurate”), which refers more generally to the Gospel as a whole. Other important witnesses are Luke 1:1-4 (where Luke claims to follow eyewitness testimony with historical accuracy) and 2 Peter 1:16 (where Peter says he did not invent “clever stories” when telling the story of Jesus). It is clear that the early church claimed authenticity for the Gospels.

John concluded his Crucifixion narrative with two more fulfillment quotations (19:36-37). The fact that Jesus’ legs were not broken fulfills the statement “not one of his bones will be broken” (19:36), which is found in various forms three times in the Old Testament (Exod 12:46 and Num 9:12, both stating that no bone of the Passover lamb is to be broken; Ps 34:20, which states that God protects his righteous people). It is possible that both allusions are intended (so Lindars, Beasley-Murray), but it is difficult to see why the idea of protection would be part of the meaning here, and the first meaning has priority in light of the Passover setting with Jesus as the Paschal lamb (Keener). Second, John notes that the piercing of Jesus’ side fulfilled Zechariah 12:10, “They will look on the one they pierced” (19:37). The Zechariah passage talks about Israel looking upon God’s representative (the prophet or the Messiah) and mourning for her unbelief. John hoped that Israel would once more repent of her apostasy.

19:41 new tomb. Burge (2000:536) describes the typical Jewish tomb: (1) A heavy wheel-shaped stone, 4–6 feet in diameter, was rolled into a shallow trough and kept in place by a short wall on both sides of the opening. (2) A burial chamber with a preparation room was encircled with a stone bench on which the body was readied. (3) Burial niches (6 feet long and 2 feet high) were cut into the wall either above the bench or in a separate chamber. (4) A decorated limestone “bone box” was placed on the floor to gather the bones after the body had decomposed. The one detail that is problematic here is the burial niche cut into the wall. Since two angels would sit at each end of the spot where Jesus’ body lay, this makes it difficult to conceive of a niche in the wall. More likely it was a trough-arcosolium, a sarcophagus placed under a recessed arch (Carson 1991:640). Also, we must note that the actual grave opening would be only about 3 feet high.

Since the Cross was the enthronement of the royal Messiah, it was only fitting that Jesus be given a royal burial. Leading the way was Joseph of Arimathea, a wealthy man (Matt 27:57) and member of the Sanhedrin (Mark 15:43 and parallels). He was also a follower of Jesus (Matt 27:57), who anxiously awaited the Kingdom of God and who had opposed the Sanhedrin’s decision (Luke 23:51). John added that he “had been a secret disciple of Jesus (because he feared the Jewish leaders),” a recapitulation of 12:42-43, but not as negative here as in chapter 12. In fact, it may well be that John emphasized this in order to draw out (Cf. 12:32) other closet Christians who were still in the synagogues and give them the courage to make a public declaration for Jesus (so Brown). Joseph took a step of enormous courage. The Romans usually allowed the crucified to rot, but the Jews had received permission to take them down and place them in a common grave outside the city. Probably so moved by Jesus’ solemn death, Joseph traded on his membership in the Sanhedrin and went to Pilate to ask permission “to take down Jesus’ body,” undoubtedly including permission for burial. It is highly unusual that Pilate acquiesced, but he had been convinced of Jesus’ innocence and was disgusted that the Jewish leaders had made him give Jesus up to be crucified. So he gave Joseph permission.

Only John tells us that Nicodemus, “who had come to Jesus at night” (19:39; Cf. 3:1ff) and was another secret believer, assisted Joseph (who could hardly have taken the body away himself). It is also possible that they used the service of slaves, since handling the body themselves would have rendered them unclean for seven days, thereby removing them from participation in the Passover (so Brown). Nicodemus brought 100 litras [TG3046, ZG3354] or “about seventy-five pounds” (actually 65.45 pounds, so Beasley-Murray) of “perfumed ointment made from myrrh and aloes”—an extraordinary amount. Myrrh was a fragrant resin used by the Egyptians in embalming, and the Jews used it in powder form, mixing it with the aloes, a powder of aromatic sandalwood (Carson). The purpose was to counteract the odor caused by the decaying body, but this amount was very unusual and exceedingly expensive. As such, it parallels the expensive perfume used to anoint Jesus for burial in 12:1-8. There is also a royal motif, for such exorbitant amounts were used to bury kings. For example, there were 500 slaves carrying burial spices at the funeral of Herod the Great (Josephus Antiquities 17.199), certainly beyond what even royal burials required. More apropos is the story of Onkelos, who burned 80 litrai of spices at the burial of the great rabbi Gamaliel, saying, “Is not Rabbi Gamaliel better than a hundred kings?”

Witherington hypothesizes (1995:312) that “these ‘secret disciples’ were trying to make up in death for their neglect of Jesus or their lack of courage to support his cause when he was alive.” Perhaps this could be called another “unconscious testimony” (as Caiaphas’s was in 11:50-52)—this time an unknowing homage to Jesus’ genuine royalty by two bashful disciples. The spices were packed in the “long sheets of linen cloth” (othoniois [TG3608, ZG3856]) used to wrap Jesus’ body (19:40). Some translations (e.g., NIV) have “strips of linen,” and at first glance, this seems to contradict the “long sheet of linen cloth” in Mark 15:46, which seems to imply a single sheet. However, it is very possible that this is a generalizing plural for a single sheet (Brown, Keener) or that by “long sheets” or pieces, John includes the face cloth (cf. John 11:44, so Blomberg). Probably they packed the spices in with the cloth and also placed some under and around the body.

The fact that the site of the tomb was “near” the place of execution (19:41-42; most likely both Golgotha and the tomb are covered by the Church of the Holy Sepulchre) was a real boon for Joseph and Nicodemus, since they had only a short time for readying Jesus’ body for burial (washing the corpse and wrapping it in the spices and linen) before sunset. Even the description of the site God chose for the tomb would support a royal motif. It was a “new tomb, never used before” (undoubtedly dug into the hillside as was the common Jewish practice), and it was set in a garden, probably some type of olive grove (the same term is used in 18:1 for the grove of Jesus’ arrest). Later, Mary Magdalene would wrongly think Jesus was a gardener (20:15). There are Old Testament references to the burial of kings in a garden (2 Kgs 21:18, 26; Neh 3:15-16 of David’s tomb), further evidence that the imagery here portrays a royal burial.