Good Friday — The Crucifixion

From the garden of Gethsemane, soldiers brought Jesus first to Annas, the former high priest. Though he had been deposed by Rome in 15 AD, Annas remained the power behind the throne — his son-in-law Caiaphas was the current high priest, and five of Annas’s own sons would eventually hold that office.

From Annas, Jesus was sent to Caiaphas for a formal hearing before the Sanhedrin. The council had assembled in the middle of the night — a proceeding that violated Jewish law on multiple counts. Trials were not supposed to occur at night, during festivals, or in the high priest’s house.

False witnesses came forward, but their testimony contradicted. Finally, Caiaphas demanded directly: “I adjure thee by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of the Blessed.”

Jesus answered: “I am: and ye shall see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven.”

It was an unmistakable claim. “I AM” — the divine name. Caiaphas tore his robes: “What need we any further witnesses? Ye have heard the blasphemy.”

“He is guilty of death.”

They spat in His face. They blindfolded Him and struck Him, taunting: “Prophesy unto us, thou Christ, Who is he that smote thee?”

Meanwhile, in the courtyard below, Peter waited by a charcoal fire. He had followed at a distance.

A servant girl peered at him in the firelight: “Thou also wast with Jesus of Galilee.” Peter denied it: “I know not what thou sayest.”

Another girl recognized him. He denied again, with an oath: “I do not know the man.”

About an hour later, bystanders approached: “Surely thou also art one of them; for thy speech betrayeth thee.” (Peter’s Galilean accent gave him away.)

Peter began to curse and swear: “I know not the man!”

Immediately, the rooster crowed.

At that moment — Luke alone records this detail — Jesus, being led through the courtyard, turned and looked at Peter.

Just hours earlier, Peter had boasted that he would never forsake Jesus. Now it had happened. He went out and “wept bitterly.”

At dawn, the Sanhedrin brought Jesus to Pontius Pilate. The Jewish leaders faced a problem: only Rome could execute. And the charge of blasphemy meant nothing to Romans. So they changed the accusation:

“We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar, saying that he himself is Christ, a King.”

Pilate asked: “Art thou the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered: “My kingdom is not of this world.”

Pilate found no fault worthy of death. He offered a choice: Jesus, or Barabbas — an insurrectionist and murderer. The crowd, stirred up by the chief priests, shouted for Barabbas.

“What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?”

“Let him be crucified!”

Pilate took water and washed his hands: “I am innocent of the blood of this just person.”

The crowd answered: “His blood be on us, and on our children.”

Learning Jesus was Galilean, Pilate sent Him to Herod Antipas, who happened to be in Jerusalem for the feast.

Herod was delighted to see Jesus — he had heard about the miracles and hoped to see one performed. He questioned Jesus at length.

Jesus answered nothing.

Herod and his soldiers mocked Jesus, dressed Him in a gorgeous robe (as if to say, “Here’s your ‘king’”), and sent Him back to Pilate.

Luke notes something strange: “The same day Pilate and Herod were made friends together: for before they were at enmity between themselves.” Jesus’ silence reconciled former enemies — an ironic preview of how His death would reconcile humanity to God.

When Judas saw that Jesus was condemned, he was seized with remorse. He brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders.

“I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood.”

They replied coldly: “What is that to us? see thou to that.”

Judas threw the silver pieces into the temple and went out and hanged himself.

The chief priests took the money and bought the potter’s field as a burial place for foreigners — fulfilling Zechariah’s prophecy in precise detail. The field became known as “the Field of Blood.”

Before crucifixion came scourging — the Roman flagellum. This was not a simple whipping. The flagellum was a multi-thonged whip embedded with pieces of bone, metal, and glass. Victims were stripped and tied to a post. The lashes tore skin from muscle, sometimes exposing bone. Many prisoners died from scourging alone.

After the scourging, soldiers wove a crown from thorns — likely from the ziziphus plant, with spines an inch long — and pressed it onto Jesus’ head. They clothed Him in a purple robe (mocking His kingship), placed a reed in His hand (a mock scepter), and knelt before Him in mockery: “Hail, King of the Jews!”

They spat on Him. They struck Him in the face. They beat Him on the head with the reed, driving the thorns deeper.

Pilate brought Jesus out before the crowd: “Behold the man!” — Ecce homo. Perhaps he hoped the sight of Jesus, beaten beyond recognition, would satisfy them.

It did not. “Crucify him, crucify him!”

At about nine in the morning — the third hour by Jewish reckoning — the crucifixion procession began.

Condemned prisoners carried the crossbeam (patibulum) to the execution site, often through crowded streets. Jesus carried His until He could not — the scourging had taken too much. The soldiers pressed Simon of Cyrene, a visitor from North Africa, into service.

Women of Jerusalem followed, weeping. Jesus turned to them with words of warning: “Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves, and for your children.” He foresaw the destruction of 70 AD.

At Golgotha (Aramaic for “place of the skull” — Latin Calvaria, from which we get “Calvary”), they offered Him wine mixed with gall — a narcotic to dull the pain. He tasted it but refused to drink. He would face death fully conscious.

They nailed Him to the cross — spikes through the wrists and feet. Crucifixion killed slowly, through exhaustion, shock, dehydration, and eventually asphyxiation as the victim could no longer push up to breathe.

Above His head, Pilate posted the official charge in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin: JESUS OF NAZARETH, THE KING OF THE JEWS

The chief priests objected: “Write not, The King of the Jews; but that he said, I am King of the Jews.” Pilate refused: “What I have written I have written.”

They crucified two thieves with Him, one on each side. Scripture was fulfilled: “He was numbered with the transgressors.”

From the cross, Jesus spoke seven final statements that fulfilled Messianic prophecies. See the detailed analysis with Psalm connections in “The Seven Last Sermons of Christ” section below.

At noon, darkness fell over the entire land — supernatural darkness that lasted three hours.

This was not an eclipse (Passover always falls at full moon, when solar eclipses are impossible). It was a sign. Creation itself responded to the death of its Creator.

The darkness echoed the ninth plague of Egypt. As God’s people were being freed from bondage, darkness covered the land. Now, as God’s Son freed all humanity from the bondage of sin, darkness covered the land again.

At about three in the afternoon — the ninth hour, the very moment when Passover lambs were being slaughtered in the Temple below — Jesus cried out with a loud voice and yielded up His spirit.

“It is finished.” The Greek word is tetelestai — a commercial term meaning “paid in full.” The debt was settled. The work was complete.

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit.” Quoting Psalm 31:5, Jesus chose to lay down His life. No one took it from Him.

The timing was not coincidental. As the priests killed the sacrificial lambs, the true Lamb of God was dying on the hill above.

At the moment of Jesus’ death, the Temple veil — the massive curtain separating the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies — tore from top to bottom.

This veil was approximately 60 feet high, 30 feet wide, and several inches thick. Jewish tradition says it took 300 priests to handle. It could not be torn by human hands — and it tore from the top, not the bottom.

The Holy of Holies had been the dwelling place of God’s presence, accessible only to the high priest, only once a year, only with sacrificial blood. When Jesus died, that barrier was torn away. The way into God’s presence was now open to all.

An earthquake shook the city. Rocks split. Tombs opened. Matthew records that many saints who had died rose from their graves and appeared in Jerusalem after Jesus’ resurrection.

A Roman centurion, who had overseen countless crucifixions, watched Jesus die. He declared: “Truly this man was the Son of God.”

Evening approached. The Sabbath would begin at sunset, and Jewish law forbade leaving bodies on crosses overnight during a festival.

Joseph of Arimathea — a wealthy member of the Sanhedrin who had not consented to the verdict against Jesus — went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body. This took courage; requesting the body of an executed criminal could mark him as a sympathizer.

Nicodemus — the Pharisee who had come to Jesus by night in John 3 — joined him, bringing about a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes. This was a massive amount, fit for a king’s burial.

They wrapped Jesus’ body in linen cloths with the spices and laid Him in Joseph’s own new tomb, hewn from rock in a garden near Golgotha. A great stone was rolled across the entrance.

Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses watched where He was laid.

The sun was setting. The Sabbath was beginning. The women would have to wait until Sunday morning to properly anoint the body.

The Passover Lamb had been sacrificed. Now came the silence of the tomb.

The chief priests and Pharisees remembered Jesus’ prediction that He would rise after three days. They feared the disciples might steal the body.

They went to Pilate: “Command therefore that the sepulchre be made sure until the third day, lest his disciples come by night, and steal him away.”

Pilate granted them a guard. They sealed the stone and posted Roman soldiers. The seal was an official Roman mark; breaking it was a capital offense.

The irony was profound: every precaution they took to prevent a false resurrection claim would only make the real resurrection more undeniable.

While His body lay in the tomb, Jesus Himself was not idle.

Peter would later write: “For Christ also hath once suffered for sins, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us to God, being put to death in the flesh, but quickened by the Spirit: By which also he went and preached unto the spirits in prison.”

He descended to the spirit world and preached to the dead. The silence in Jerusalem was not silence in the spirit world.

In 1918, President Joseph F. Smith received a vision expanding Peter’s teaching, now recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 138.

“I perceived that the Lord went not in person among the wicked and the disobedient… but behold, from among the righteous, he organized his forces and appointed messengers, clothed with power and authority, and commissioned them to go forth and carry the light of the gospel to them that were in darkness.” — D&C 138:29–30

While the disciples despaired, Christ was opening the doors of salvation to countless souls who had died without hearing the gospel.