When we think of sermons, we imagine extended discourses—carefully crafted messages delivered from pulpits, filled with exposition, application, and invitation. But the most powerful sermon ever preached consisted of just seven brief phrases, spoken not from a place of comfort but from the instrument of execution itself.
As Jesus hung upon the cross—experiencing physical agony, bearing the weight of all human sin, and enduring separation from His Father—He spoke seven times (that were recorded). These utterances, preserved across the four Gospel accounts, constitute what tradition calls the “Seven Last Words” or the “Seven Words from the Cross.” Together, they form a sermon of profound depth: a message about forgiveness, salvation, relationship, suffering, trust, and triumph.
But there is something even more remarkable about these seven phrases: many of them are direct quotations from the Psalms. In Jewish culture, to quote the opening line of a psalm was to invoke the entire text—its full message, its emotional arc, its ultimate resolution. Jesus wasn’t merely crying out in agony or offering final instructions. He was preaching sermons within His sermon, calling to mind entire passages of Scripture that His followers would have known by heart. With each phrase from the Psalms, He was summoning a complete theological discourse, anchoring His suffering in the larger story of God’s faithfulness to His people.
The Seven Words
1. “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do”
Luke 23:34
The first word from the cross is a prayer of intercession. Even as the soldiers drove nails through His hands and feet, even as the religious leaders mocked Him, even as the crowd called for His blood, Jesus prayed for their forgiveness.
“They know not what they do” acknowledges the spiritual blindness that leads to sin. The Roman soldiers understood they were executing a man; they did not comprehend they were crucifying the Son of God. The religious leaders thought they were protecting orthodoxy; they failed to recognize they were rejecting their Messiah. The crowd believed they were choosing a zealot over a failed prophet; they could not see they were demanding death for the Author of Life.
This first word establishes the purpose of the cross: forgiveness. Before anything else—before promises of paradise, before provision for loved ones, before the cry of dereliction—Jesus models and offers forgiveness. The cross is not primarily about judgment but about mercy extended to those who “know not what they do.”
It is truly astounding to witness the Savior’s boundless generosity and compassion as He pleaded for mercy on behalf of those who were actively piercing nails through His body. In this moment, Jesus exemplified the teachings He shared during the Sermon on the Mount, where He encouraged us to love our enemies and pray for those who mistreat and persecute us (Matthew 5:44). Christ’s profound act serves as a powerful lesson for us all, demonstrating the importance of extending forgiveness and mercy, even when it is undeserved, unrequested, or unrecognized.
The Word: aphiemi - “Forgive”
The Greek word Jesus used carries layers of meaning:
- To send away
- To let go, release
- To forsake, leave behind
- To remit a debt
- To permit, allow, not hinder
This same word appears elsewhere in Scripture in ways that illuminate forgiveness:
- Matthew 4:20 - “And they straightway left their nets, and followed him.”
- Matthew 5:24 - “Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother.”
- Matthew 6:12 - “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”
Consider: How can the examples of leaving nets behind and leaving gifts before the altar help us understand the nature of forgiveness? When we truly forgive, what are we leaving behind? What are we releasing?
The first principles of the Gospel begin with Faith and Repentance. Repentance and Forgiveness go hand in hand. These are foundational steps on the path to exaltation because they acknowledge our dependence on God’s mercy and our obligation to extend that same mercy to others.
For us: We learn that forgiveness precedes understanding. We are called to forgive even when others don’t comprehend the harm they’ve caused, even when they persist in inflicting it. Christ’s example shows us that the deepest love forgives in the very act of being wounded.
2. “Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise”
Luke 23:43
The Savior’s second statement also displays tender compassion for others even while He himself suffers. Two criminals were crucified alongside Jesus. One mocked Him, saying, “If thou be Christ, save thyself and us” (Luke 23:39). But the other man rebuked him, acknowledging that they were both receiving justice for their deeds, but Jesus was innocent (Luke 23:41).
At this point, this penitent thief then pleaded with the Savior, “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom” (Luke 23:42). These words, spoken by a convicted criminal, are the final recorded words addressed to the Savior before His death. His sincere plea captures a special intimacy—he is the only person recorded in the Gospels as asking Christ to remember him.
Jesus’ response exceeded the request: not someday, but “today.” Not mere remembrance, but companionship: “with me.” Not mere survival, but paradise.
This second word reveals the immediacy and accessibility of salvation. No probationary period. No complex ritual. No impossible prerequisite. Just recognition of who Jesus is, genuine turning toward Him, and the promise: today, paradise, with me.
The thief had no opportunity for baptism, no chance to make restitution, no time to prove his reformation. He had only his recognition of Christ and his faith in Christ’s mercy. It was enough.
The Word: paradeisos - “Paradise”
This word appears only three times in the New Testament, each illuminating a different aspect of God’s glory:
- Here at the cross - Jesus promises the thief immediate entry into paradise
- Paul’s vision (2 Corinthians 12:4) - Paul describes being “caught up into paradise” and hearing “unspeakable words” in the “third heaven,” describing the glory of God (2 Cor. 12:1-6; cf. 1 Cor. 15:40-41)
- John’s vision (Revelation 2:7) - “To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the midst of the paradise of God”
Consider the profound event that occurred once the Savior died: The veil of the temple was rent in twain (Matthew 27:51; Luke 23:45). Why was this significant? What principles of the Gospel was the Savior teaching through this encounter with the thief?
The tearing of the veil symbolized that Christ’s sacrifice opened the way for all to enter God’s presence. What had been accessible only to the High Priest once a year was now opened to all who come through Christ. This thief, condemned and dying, became the first to receive that promise: “Today thou shalt be with me in paradise.”
For us: It is never too late to turn to Christ. Salvation is not earned through years of service but received through faith in His grace. The ground is level at the foot of the cross—whether we’ve served faithfully for decades or cry out in our last moments, Christ’s mercy extends to all who call upon Him.
And perhaps there is something more here. The word “paradise” (paradeisos) comes from the Hebrew/Persian pardes, meaning “orchard” or “garden.” In Jewish tradition, this word became an acronym—PaRDeS—for the four levels of scriptural interpretation: Peshat (plain meaning), Remez (hints), Darash (moral teaching), and Sod (mystery). To enter the “orchard” of Scripture is to move through layers of meaning, from surface to depth, from literal to mystical, until we encounter God Himself.
The thief on the cross had no time for formal study, no opportunity to master interpretive methods. Yet in one moment of recognition—“Lord, remember me”—he entered paradise. Not someday. Today. This teaches us that while deep study enriches our understanding, the essence of paradise is recognizing Christ and being with Him. Every time we open Scripture and meet Him there—whether through plain reading or deeper insight—we taste paradise today. The orchard is not just a future promise; it is a present gift, available to all who call upon His name and seek him in faith.
3. “Woman, behold thy son! … Behold thy mother!”
John 19:26-27
In His agony, Jesus noticed His mother standing near the cross. He saw John, the beloved disciple, standing with her. And in those moments of excruciating pain, He thought of their future welfare.
“Woman, behold thy son”—entrusting Mary to John’s care. “Behold thy mother”—establishing a new filial relationship. From that hour, John took her into his own home.
This third word reveals Christ’s concern for practical, earthly relationships even as He accomplished eternal redemption. He did not become so heavenly minded that He neglected earthly responsibility. The Son of God dying to save the world still ensured His mother would be cared for.
The form of address—“Woman” rather than “Mother”—has been understood in multiple ways. Some see it as maintaining the boundary between His divine mission and human relationships. Others note it echoes His words at Cana: “Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come” (John 2:4). At Cana, His hour had not yet come; now, on the cross, His hour had fully arrived.
The Word: idou - “Behold”
This word (Hebrew: hinneh) means far more than casual observation. From the root eido, it carries profound implications:
- To perceive by any of the senses
- To notice, discern, discover
- To turn the eyes, the mind, the attention to anything
- To pay attention, observe
- To inspect, examine carefully
- To know
- To have regard for one, cherish, pay attention to
Principles of Unity
Many assume that Jesus is simply asking John to take care of His mother, Mary. However, this admonition goes much deeper than only assuming responsibility for the welfare of another, especially when we look at the Greek root eido. Christ is admonishing men and women, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters to work together in harmony, as co-partners and allies. This was a major theme during the Last Supper, and it continues here at the cross.
Consider: On the morning of the Resurrection, who did Christ appear to first? Why is this significant? (Matthew 28:1-10; Mark 16:9-11; Luke 24:9-11; John 20:18)
For us: Sacred duties don’t exempt us from mundane responsibilities. The most spiritual acts we perform should not neglect the practical needs of those around us. True religion cares for widows in their affliction (James 1:27). Love expresses itself in provision, not just proclamation. And we are called to work together—men and women, brothers and sisters—as co-partners in building the kingdom of God.
4. “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”
Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34
This is the cry that echoes through eternity—the moment when the Son experienced what He had never known: separation from the Father. “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” Some in the crowd misunderstood, thinking He called for Elijah. But those who knew Scripture recognized the opening words of Psalm 22.
This fourth word stands at the center of the seven, both numerically and theologically. It is the hinge upon which everything turns. Here, in this moment of profound dereliction, Jesus bore the full weight of sin and its consequence: separation from God.
As we discussed in our Purim investigation, these same words had been spoken centuries earlier by Queen Esther as she approached the king’s throne to plead for her people. According to the Talmud (Megillah 15b), when Esther passed through the chamber of idols, the Divine Presence departed from her, and she cried: “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”
The parallels run even deeper than the shared words. According to rabbinic tradition (Talmud Megillah 15a), Esther’s three-day fast occurred during Passover itself—the 14th, 15th, and 16th of Nisan. She approached the king on the third day, during the Passover season. Shortly after, Haman—the enemy who plotted the destruction of the Jewish people—was executed. During Passover.
Centuries later, during another Passover, Jesus would quote the same psalm from the cross. Both Esther and Jesus spoke Psalm 22:2 at moments of ultimate sacrifice for their people. Both moments occurred at Passover. One led to the execution of the enemy of God’s covenant people. The other accomplished the sacrifice that would redeem all people.
But while Esther felt forsaken, Jesus was forsaken. The Father, who cannot look upon sin with the least degree of allowance, turned away as His Son became sin for us. This was not abandonment in the sense of permanent rejection—the Father had not ceased to love the Son. Rather, it was the necessary consequence of the Son taking upon Himself the sins of the world.
But we must ask: Why did Jesus speak these words? Some hear only despair, and perhaps complaint. Yet that understanding sits uneasily with everything we know of Christ’s character—His perfect submission to the Father, His concern for others even in His own suffering, His habit of teaching through every moment.
Consider another possibility, one that resonates with maternal love and pedagogical wisdom. Mary stood near the cross, watching her son die (John 19:25). As a Jewish mother, she would have taught Jesus the psalms from childhood. She likely sang to Him, as Jewish mothers do, the songs of their people—including Psalm 22. She may have taught Him about Queen Esther, about the tradition connecting her to this psalm, about courage and faith in the face of death.
By quoting the opening line, Jesus invokes the entire psalm—not just the lament but the deliverance. This is how Scripture was taught and remembered in Jewish culture: to speak the first words was to call forth the whole. Anyone familiar with Psalm 22 would have heard not just verse 1, but the entire arc of the psalm in their minds.
Psalm 22 begins with forsakenness but moves through suffering to ultimate vindication:
- “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” (v. 1)
- “All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads” (v. 7)
- “They pierce my hands and my feet… they divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing” (vv. 16, 18)
- “I will declare Your name to my brothers; in the congregation I will praise You” (v. 22)
- “All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him” (v. 27)
- “A seed shall serve him; it shall be accounted to the Lord for a generation. They shall come, and shall declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born, that he hath done this” (vv. 30-31)
The psalm Jesus quoted is itself a complete sermon—from abandonment to worship, from mockery to proclamation, from death to resurrection, from one sufferer to “all the ends of the earth.” By speaking the first line, Jesus preached the entire message.
Perhaps Jesus, in His agony, was reminding Mary of the psalm she taught Him. Reminding her that the story doesn’t end at abandonment but moves to vindication. Reminding the disciples that darkness gives way to light, that Friday leads to Sunday, that what seems like defeat is actually victory. The very psalm that begins “Why have You forsaken me?” ends with “He has done it!"—words that echo His sixth declaration: “It is finished.”
Perhaps He was even humming it. Modern research confirms ancient intuition: music inhibits pain, provides cognitive anchoring during trauma, helps the soul endure what seems unendurable. We teach children to think of Primary songs during trials. Could Jesus have been using this same gift—the psalm His mother sang to Him, the melody that reminded Him of deliverance promised?
This interpretation doesn’t diminish His suffering. Jesus truly experienced separation from the Father as He bore our sins. The cry is genuine. The desolation is real. But even in that moment, He teaches. Even in darkness, He points to light. Even while feeling forsaken, He testifies through Scripture that forsakenness is not the final word.
The Word: shevaq - “Forsaken”
The Aramaic word “sabachthani” holds profound significance. Its root, shevaq, appears only a few times in the scriptures, most notably in the description of the scattering of Israel and Nebuchadnezzar’s vision of cutting down a tree in Daniel 4:4-27. In this vision, Nebuchadnezzar witnesses a majestic tree teeming with life, only to be instructed to chop it down, reducing it to a mere stump (shebuqu).
If we envision the Tree of Life as a menorah and strip away its branches, what remains is a cross—a symbol of death, pain, suffering, and the knowledge of good and evil. In the pursuit of this knowledge, one may become akin to the gods, as they learn to discern between good and evil. However, this understanding comes at an immense cost, one that Christ willingly paid on the tree at Calvary.
But here is the profound connection: In Daniel’s vision, though the tree is cut down to a stump, the stump remains—and from a stump, new life can spring. The word shevaq (forsaken, left) carries this dual meaning: abandoned yet remaining, cut down yet not destroyed. And this is exactly what Psalm 22 declares in its conclusion: “A seed shall serve him” (v. 30).
From the cross—the stripped tree, the apparent death, the moment of ultimate forsakenness—comes the seed. Not just survival, but fruitfulness. Not just endurance, but multiplication. The tree cut down produces seed that will serve Him for generations. Isaiah prophesied this pattern: “And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots” (Isaiah 11:1). What appears dead—a stump, a stem, dry ground—brings forth life.
This is the mystery hidden in Christ’s cry. The word that means “forsaken” is the same word used for the tree reduced to a stump. And from that stump, that cross, that moment of apparent defeat, springs forth the seed: resurrection life, covenant children, future generations who will “declare his righteousness unto a people that shall be born” (Psalm 22:31). The tree becomes a cross. The cross produces the seed. The seed becomes an eternal harvest.
Two Trees, One Cross
In this imagery we can see a profound parable—the contrast between the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and how the cross embodies both.
The cross represents the suffering and death of the Lord—the full knowledge of good and evil, the consequences of the Fall, the pain and separation that sin brings. When Christ hung on that tree, He experienced the full weight of mortality, the depths of suffering, the reality of death. He came to know, “according to the flesh,” every sorrow, every pain, every grief (Alma 7:11-12). This is the Tree of Knowledge in its fullest expression: the experiential understanding of all that is broken in the world.
But the cross is also the Tree of Life. For the purpose of that suffering, the meaning behind that death, was love—the pure love of God that Nephi saw in vision. When Nephi’s father Lehi beheld the Tree of Life and tasted its fruit, he described it as “most sweet, above all that I ever before tasted… and it filled my soul with exceedingly great joy” (1 Nephi 8:11). When Nephi sought to understand what the tree meant, the angel showed him the mother of the Son of God, and declared: “Behold, the virgin whom thou seest is the mother of the Son of God, after the manner of the flesh… And the angel said unto me: Behold the Lamb of God, yea, even the Son of the Eternal Father!” (1 Nephi 11:18, 21).
Then came the interpretation: “And the angel spake unto me, saying: Behold the love of God, which sheddeth itself abroad in the hearts of the children of men; wherefore, it is the most desirable above all things… Yea, and the most joyous to the soul” (1 Nephi 11:22-23).
The Tree of Life is the love of God. And that love was most fully manifest at the cross. Jesus didn’t just endure suffering—He endured it for us, because of His love for the Father and for us. The cross, which represents death and the knowledge of evil, simultaneously represents life and the love of God. Both trees converge in one place: Calvary.
From the Tree of Knowledge comes understanding—we learn what sin costs, what justice demands, what separation means. From the Tree of Life comes healing—we receive mercy, taste divine love, find the path back to the Father’s presence. And both are found in Christ crucified. He bore the knowledge of our evil that we might partake of the fruit of His love. He died on the tree that we might eat from the Tree of Life forever.
This is why the seed springs from the cross. What looks like death is actually the source of eternal life. What appears to be the ultimate curse—crucifixion on a tree (Deuteronomy 21:23; Galatians 3:13)—becomes the ultimate blessing. The stripped branches become the cross; the cross produces the seed; the seed grows into an eternal harvest of life. The knowledge of evil, fully borne by Christ, gives way to the love of God, freely offered to all.
“None Were With Him”
It is valuable to acknowledge that while Esther had to act on her own, she was never alone. Esther received guidance and encouragement from her cousin Mordecai, who urged her to take action at various points along her journey. Additionally, as Esther prepared to approach Ahasuerus and Haman, she enlisted the support of her community, calling upon them to fast and pray on her behalf. It is only after three days of collective fasting and prayer that she finally dons her royal attire and entered the palace.
The significance of the third day is notable, drawing a remarkable parallel to Christ’s resurrection from the tomb on the third day, signifying the fulfillment of His mission. Likewise the Savior was not alone. President Jeffrey R. Holland reminded us of this in his address, “None Were With Him”:
Had He not said to His disciples, “Behold, the hour … is now come, that ye shall be scattered, every man to his own, and shall leave me alone: and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me” and “The Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him”?
With all the conviction of my soul I testify that He did please His Father perfectly and that a perfect Father did not forsake His Son in that hour. Indeed, it is my personal belief that in all of Christ’s mortal ministry the Father may never have been closer to His Son than in these agonizing final moments of suffering. Nevertheless, that the supreme sacrifice of His Son might be as complete as it was voluntary and solitary, the Father briefly withdrew from Jesus the comfort of His Spirit, the support of His personal presence. It was required, indeed it was central to the significance of the Atonement, that this perfect Son who had never spoken ill nor done wrong nor touched an unclean thing had to know how the rest of humankind—us, all of us—would feel when we did commit such sins. For His Atonement to be infinite and eternal, He had to feel what it was like to die not only physically but spiritually, to sense what it was like to have the divine Spirit withdraw, leaving one feeling totally, abjectly, hopelessly alone.
Also, in a similar vein to Esther, Psalm 22 portrays a vibrant community dynamic, encompassing the remembrance of the past community (verses 4-5), highlighting the present community (verses 23-25), and anticipating the continuity of the future community (verses 30-31). Just as Esther’s people were relying on her for their temporal salvation, all mankind was relying on Jesus for our temporal and eternal salvation. While Christ had to experience the feeling of being alone, countless angels must have been in attendance, including John and the women that were there at the foot of the Cross to support Jesus in his final moments.
For us: We learn that even Christ experienced the feeling of God’s absence. When we face our own dark nights of the soul, when prayers seem to vanish into silence, when we feel utterly alone—we follow in the footsteps of our Savior. He has been there. He knows. But we also learn to do what He did: anchor ourselves in Scripture that reminds us of deliverance, sing the songs that point beyond present darkness, invoke the promises that sustain us through suffering. And His resurrection promises that forsakenness is not the final word.
5. “I thirst”
John 19:28
The shortest of the seven words. Two syllables in Greek: dipso. Two words in English: “I thirst.”
After hours on the cross, with blood loss and exposure taking their toll, Jesus acknowledged His physical agony. The one who declared “I am the living water” experienced thirst. The one who promised that whoever drinks of the water He gives “shall never thirst” (John 4:14) knew the parched desperation of complete dehydration.
John notes that Jesus said this “knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled” (John 19:28). With these two words—“I thirst”—Jesus invoked not one but two psalms.
First, Psalm 22:15, the same psalm He had quoted earlier: “My strength is dried up like a potsherd; and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws; and thou hast brought me into the dust of death.” The physical reality of crucifixion—the dehydration, the parched mouth, the body shutting down.
Second, Psalm 69:21: “They gave me also gall for my meat; and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.” This psalm, like Psalm 22, describes righteous suffering and includes remarkable prophetic detail: “Reproach hath broken my heart… I looked for some to take pity, but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none” (Psalm 69:20).
Someone lifted a sponge soaked in sour wine on a branch of hyssop to His lips—fulfilling the very words of Psalm 69:21. And hyssop—the same plant used to apply the Passover blood to the doorposts in Egypt (Exodus 12:22). Even in this small detail, layers of Scripture converge: Jesus is the true Passover Lamb, the righteous sufferer of the Psalms, the one who thirsts that we might drink living water.
The Word: dipsao - “Thirst” (Hebrew: tsame)
This profound statement echoes through multiple psalms of righteous suffering:
- Psalm 42:1-3 - “As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God? My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?”
- Psalm 63:1 - “O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is”
- Psalm 143:6 - “I stretch forth my hands unto thee: my soul thirsteth after thee, as a thirsty land”
The same word appears in Jesus’ own teaching:
- Matthew 5:6 - “Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled”
- Matthew 25:35 - “For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink”
- John 4:14 - “But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst”
- John 7:37 - “If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink”
Consider: What do these passages teach us about where we can go in our periods of adversity, when we thirst, when we are at a loss, when we are suffering, when we are faced with the “bitter cup” of affliction and despair?
For us: Christ’s humanity was real. He truly suffered. The Atonement was not a divine performance but genuine agony—physical, emotional, and spiritual. When we suffer, we do not suffer alone. The Son of God has felt our pains, borne our sorrows, experienced our afflictions (Isaiah 53:4; Alma 7:11-12). His thirst validates our hardships and assures us of His empathy. And His invitation remains: “If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink.”
6. “It is finished”
John 19:30
One word in Greek: tetelestai. Rendered in English as “It is finished.”
This is not the cry of a victim succumbing to execution. It is the shout of victory. It is the declaration of completion. It is the announcement that the work is done.
During the early stages of His ministry, Jesus imparted the profound truth that His mission was to faithfully follow the will of the One who sent Him and to fulfill the task entrusted to Him (John 4:34; John 6:38-39). Despite facing opposition from both earthly forces and the powers of hell, Christ, even in a state of thirst, abandonment, and excruciating suffering, undeniably accomplished the work assigned to Him by His Father. In moments when our own lives seem to spiral out of control, we can take solace in the assurance that Christ remains completely sovereign. He is always at the helm, maintaining full authority over every aspect of our existence.
“It is finished” means:
- The Law has been fulfilled
- The prophecies have been completed
- The price has been paid
- The sacrifice has been accepted
- The breach has been healed
- The way has been opened
In Greek commercial language, tetelestai was stamped on receipts when debts were paid in full. “Paid in full.” “The account is settled.” “Nothing more is owed.”
Jesus did not say, “I am finished”—as though He were merely dying. He said, “It is finished”—the work of redemption, planned before the foundation of the world, executed in time and space, accomplished once for all.
The Word: Tetelestai from teleo and telos
This rich word family encompasses:
- To bring to a close, to finish, to end
- To perform, execute, complete, fulfill
- To carry out the contents of a command
- To perform the last act which completes a process
- To pay (a tribute, debt, tax, toll, that which is owed)
Jesus references this completion in Luke 24:44: “These are the words which I spake unto you while I was yet with you, that all things must be fulfilled which were written in the Law of Moses and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms concerning me.”
This same root gives us teleios, translated as “perfect”:
- Brought to its end, finished
- To make perfect, complete, whole
- Wanting nothing necessary to completeness
- Consummate human integrity and virtue
- Full grown, adult, of full age, mature
- Moral, intellectual, spiritual intelligence
- End, result, product, purpose
Key scriptures on becoming perfect/complete:
- Matthew 5:48 - “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect”
- 3 Nephi 12:48 - “Therefore I would that ye should be perfect even as I, or your Father who is in heaven, is perfect”
Note the difference: Matthew says “as your Father,” while 3 Nephi adds “as I, or your Father.” Christ includes Himself as the pattern we follow toward perfection.
After this word, John records, Jesus “bowed his head” (John 19:30). A deliberate, controlled action. No one took His life from Him; He laid it down of His own accord (John 10:18). Even in death, He remained sovereign.
For us: We cannot add to what Christ has done. The work of atonement is complete. We do not save ourselves; we receive the salvation He accomplished. We do not finish what Christ left incomplete; we accept what He declared finished. All our striving, all our service, all our obedience flows from gratitude for a work already complete, not from anxiety about a work still pending. Yet through Him, we too can become “finished”—complete, whole, perfect in Christ.
7. “Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit”
Luke 23:46
The seventh and final word brings the sermon full circle. Jesus began by addressing the Father in intercession (“Father, forgive them”). He ends by addressing the Father in trust (“Father, into thy hands”).
These words quote Psalm 31:5: “Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O LORD God of truth.” But again, quoting the verse invokes the entire psalm—a psalm of trust in the midst of distress:
Psalm 31 moves from anguish to confidence:
- “In thee, O LORD, do I put my trust; let me never be ashamed” (v. 1)
- “Pull me out of the net that they have laid privily for me: for thou art my strength” (v. 4)
- “Into thine hand I commit my spirit: thou hast redeemed me, O LORD God of truth” (v. 5)
- “I will be glad and rejoice in thy mercy: for thou hast considered my trouble; thou hast known my soul in adversities” (v. 7)
- “But I trusted in thee, O LORD: I said, Thou art my God. My times are in thy hand” (vv. 14-15)
This was a prayer Jewish children were taught to say before sleep—a child’s bedtime prayer of trust that the morning will come. Jesus, dying, prays the prayer He likely learned as a child from Mary and Joseph. But He also invokes a psalm that speaks of enemies laying nets, of being delivered from adversaries, of God knowing the soul in adversity—and ultimately, of trust vindicated.
The cry of dereliction (“My God, why hast thou forsaken me?”) has given way to the prayer of confidence (“Father, into thy hands”). The sense of abandonment has been replaced by the assurance of return. What was broken has been restored. The Father who could not look upon His Son bearing sin now receives His Son in perfect righteousness. And the psalm Jesus quoted promises: “Thou hast redeemed me.”
And then: “And having said thus, he gave up the ghost” (Luke 23:46). Not “died”—gave up. Voluntarily. Deliberately. Sovereignly.
The Opening of the Veil
Christ offered Himself completely to God. He consecrated His life and will to the Father for the building up of Zion, so that all might be able to enter back into the presence of the Father. As soon as Christ willingly yielded up His Spirit, an earthquake rent the veil of the Temple in twain. This opened the Gates of Heaven, allowing for all who followed Him to enter back into the presence of the Father.
Prior to this time, only the High Priest, acting as a proxy for Jehovah Himself, was allowed to pass through the veil and enter into the Holy of Holies, which was symbolic of the Celestial Kingdom. Today, all who receive their endowment are able to pass through the veil into the Celestial Room. The promise Jesus made to the thief—“Today thou shalt be with me in Paradise”—was made possible by this very moment: the tearing of the veil that separated humanity from God.
For us: We learn the ultimate act of trust: to place ourselves entirely in God’s hands, especially when we cannot see the outcome. “Nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (Luke 22:42). Even when the path leads through darkness, even when we experience our own deaths—physical or metaphorical—we can trust that the Father who received Christ’s spirit will not abandon ours. Because Christ commended His spirit to the Father and the veil was torn, we too can approach the throne of grace with confidence.
The Eighth Word: Silence
Between the seventh word and the resurrection morning stretched silence. Three days of waiting. Three days when the disciples hid in fear. Three days when the enemy seemed victorious. Three days when hope appeared crushed beneath a sealed stone.
But silence is not absence. Stillness is not defeat. While the body rested in the tomb, the spirit descended to the spirit world, proclaiming liberty to the captives (1 Peter 3:19; D&C 138). While the Sabbath passed, divine purposes continued to unfold. While earth held its breath, heaven prepared for triumph.
The silence of Holy Saturday reminds us that God’s work continues even when we cannot perceive it. Between the cry “It is finished” and the announcement “He is risen,” mystery reigned. We live much of our lives in that space—between promise and fulfillment, between planting and harvest, between prayer and answer.
A Sermon for All Time
The seven words from the cross form a complete message:
- Forgiveness for those who inflict the wound
- Salvation offered to the repentant
- Care for practical human needs
- Lament in the midst of suffering (Psalm 22 invoked)
- Humanity acknowledged and embraced (Psalms 22 and 69 invoked)
- Victory declared and accomplished
- Trust maintained to the end (Psalm 31 invoked)
Together, they show us how to live and how to die. How to suffer and how to triumph. How to forgive and how to trust. How to acknowledge pain and how to declare victory.
But notice what Jesus did: He preached sermons within His sermon. By quoting the Psalms—Psalm 22 with “My God, My God,” Psalm 22 and 69 with “I thirst,” Psalm 31 with “Into thy hands”—He wasn’t merely expressing personal anguish or offering brief prayers. He was summoning entire biblical texts that His Jewish listeners would have known by heart. Each psalm He quoted told a complete story: from suffering to deliverance, from abandonment to vindication, from death to life.
Psalm 22 ends with all nations turning to the Lord and declaring “He has done it!” Psalm 69 ends with “God will save Zion” and the afflicted praising His name. Psalm 31 ends with “Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD.”
The cross was not a pulpit in the conventional sense. But from that instrument of torture, Jesus preached the greatest sermon ever delivered—not in lengthy exposition but in seven brief phrases, three of which invoked entire psalms. He anchored His suffering in Scripture, showing that what was happening had been foretold, that the pattern was known, and that the ending—though hidden in Friday’s darkness—was already written in ancient songs of deliverance.
He who had spoken the cosmos into existence, who had taught multitudes from mountainsides and boats, who had confounded the learned and delighted children, now spoke His final words from the cross. And in those seven brief utterances, He said everything that needed to be said.
The sermon is finished. But its effects echo through eternity.
As we reflect on Esther’s courage in quoting Psalm 22 as she approached the throne, and Jesus’ fulfillment of that same psalm as He hung on the cross, we see the grand arc of Scripture. From Esther’s “My God, why have You forsaken me?” to Jesus’ “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?"—from the queen who risked death to save her people to the King who embraced death to save the world—the message remains constant:
True love sacrifices. True intercession costs. True deliverance requires that someone stand in the gap, approach the throne, bear the consequence, and cry out even when the divine presence seems to withdraw.
Esther’s cry echoed forward to the cross. And from the cross, Jesus’ cry echoes backward through all of Scripture and forward through all of history, assuring every soul who feels forsaken: You are not alone. I have been there. I have borne it. And because I live, you shall live also.
Sources and Further Reading
Primary Scripture References:
- Matthew 27:33-56
- Mark 15:22-41
- Luke 23:33-49
- John 19:16-37
Old Testament Connections:
- Psalm 22 (quoted by Jesus in the fourth word; echoed in the fifth word)
- Psalm 31 (quoted by Jesus in the seventh word)
- Psalm 69 (fulfilled in the fifth word)
- Isaiah 53 (prophetic description of Christ’s suffering)
Book of Mormon Witnesses:
- 3 Nephi 8:5-23, 3 Nephi 11:10-11
- Mosiah 3:7, Alma 7:11-13
Esther-Psalm 22 Connection:
- Talmud Bavli Megillah 15b
- Book of Esther 4-5