Volume 9: The Seven Last Sayings of Christ

DISCLAIMER: I write this devotional to the bride of Christ. As we approach Resurrection Weekend annually, reject cheap grace theology. It is not about comfort, but transformation. The cross calls us into both obedience and relationship, not one without the other. When Jesus said, “It is finished,” He completed the work of reconciliation, not excused a reckless life. What He bore did not break the Trinity, but revealed the weight of sin carried in His humanity. This is the fulfillment of Old and New Testament truth, not just theology to understand, but a reality to live. I write this devotional in love; it is not just academic, because the cross was never meant to be studied alone, but embodied.

There are moments in life when words carry weight. And then there are moments when words become eternal.

The cross was a place where every breath Jesus took was labored. Every word cost Him something. And yet, He chose to speak anyway. Because He knew the weight of His words.

Who Stood Close Enough to Listen To What He Said

While the other Gospel accounts, such as Matthew, Mark, and Luke, draw from eyewitness testimony and carefully preserved accounts of Jesus’ last words, the Gospel of John uniquely captures a perspective from one who stood at the cross himself.

At the foot of the cross, within earshot of His final words, stood Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Clopas, Salome, and John the Apostle—a small but faithful circle who chose to stay close enough to see, hear, smell, and be touched by His suffering and seven last sayings.

These were not random or wasted words; they were sacred. They were words that would echo through every generation. Even now. Even here. Even within you and me.

First, Jesus Says…

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).

According to Jewish time, Jesus is crucified around the third hour, which was around 9:00 a.m.

Before He addresses His pain, He addresses their pardon. How often do you put how someone else feels over the weight of pain, hurt, and disappointment that you are experiencing?

Even while they are mocking Him. Beating Him. Crucifying Him. He responds with forgiveness amid the very process.

Not because they asked. Not because they deserved it. But because that is who He is. This is love at its rawest form—forgiveness without waiting for apology or permission.

Luke Records His Second Saying

“Verily I say unto thee, Today shalt thou be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43).

Next to Jesus hung a criminal. Guilty. Broken. At the end of his life. And yet, one moment of belief, one honest cry, and Jesus responds with immediate mercy. No delay. No probation period. Just a promise to blot out his transgressions. This is proof of grace that outruns your past, regardless of what you’ve done.

John’s Record of Jesus’ Third Saying

“Woman, behold thy son… Behold thy mother” (John 19:26–27).

In the middle of agony, He builds a new kind of family. Jesus once asked, “Who is my mother?” (Matthew 12:48–50) and then, from the cross, entrusted His mother into the care of His “beloved disciple.”

This is actually a powerful picture of divine alignment. Because afterward He said, “Whosoever shall do the will of my Father… the same is my brother, and sister, and mother.” He redefined family through obedience to God. Yet at the cross in John 19:26–27, He tenderly said, “Woman, behold thy son… Behold thy mother!” In that moment, we see the fullness of who He is.

His mother is watching Him die. Even while saving the world, He cares for one woman’s heart. He wasn’t just solving a practical problem. He was creating a new kind of family.

And the one He chose was not just the disciple who understood His heart, but the one who was actively walking in it—the one who did the will of the Father. And maybe that’s the real point. The greatest identity you can carry is not found in what you merely say or feel about Christ, but in a life that reflects obedience to Him, rooted in the unshakable truth that you are deeply loved by Him.

After Three Hours of Anguish He Uttered His Fourth Saying

“My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).

This is the cry we often struggle to sit with—the moment where the weight of the world’s sin rested fully upon Him. Scripture reminds us that sin creates separation: “But your iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins have hid his face from you…” (Isaiah 59:2).

Having taken on what separates humanity from God, Jesus felt the depth of that separation in His humanity. Heaven did not change, but in His humanity, He carried what we could not, stepping into the fullness of human anguish; feeling the distance that sin creates, so that we would never have to remain in it.

Jesus’ Fifth Saying Is Human

“I thirst” (John 19:28).

Now this: Not poetic or theological, just human. Dry lips. Cracked throat. Body shutting down. Jesus in flesh feeling physical need while bearing the weight of sin.

He did not bypass humanity. He embraced it fully as He bore the sins of the world.

The Sixth Saying Leaves Nothing Undone

“It is finished” (John 19:30).

What did Jesus mean by this? The phrase comes from the Greek word tetelestai—meaning: paid in full, accomplished, completed, fulfilled. Nothing left outstanding. Nothing left undone.

God had already spoken of a suffering Savior long before the cross was ever seen.

“He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities…” (Isaiah 53:5).

In another place, David prophetically describes the suffering of crucifixion—pierced hands and feet, public shame, and divided garments—centuries before it existed (Psalm 22).

“As many were astonied at thee; his visage was so marred more than any man, and his form more than the sons of men:” (Isaiah 52:14).

Jesus fulfilled and finished what had been written. So when He said “It is finished,” He was saying: Every word spoken about Me has now come to pass.

It was the completion of the sacrificial system. Sin required constant sacrifice. Animals were offered daily. Blood was shed repeatedly. But atonement was always temporary.

Hebrews 10:10–12 explains: “We are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all… But this man… offered one sacrifice for sins forever.”

So when Jesus said, “It is finished,” He was also declaring: No more sacrifices are needed. The system is complete.

It also means the payment for sin was fully satisfied. Sin created a debt humanity could never repay. Romans 6:23 says, “The wages of sin is death.” That debt required payment. But on the cross, Jesus took that payment upon Himself.

Paul writes in Colossians 2:14, “Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances that was against us… nailing it to his cross.” So “It is finished” means: The debt has been paid in full. Not partially. Not temporarily. Not conditionally. Completely.

Ultimately, the finished work of the cross defeated sin, death, and the enemy. The cross was not just about forgiveness; it was about victory. Sin lost its power. Death lost its sting. The enemy lost his claim.

“It is finished” is a victory cry. Not quiet. Not passive. But triumphant.

Lastly, before the cross, access to God was limited. Only the high priest could go behind a veil once a year (Leviticus 16:1–34). But when Jesus died, something supernatural happened: The veil in the temple was torn (Matthew 27:51). This granted access to God for all without limitation.

When we speak of the “finished work of the cross,” we mean that nothing needs to be added, nothing can be earned, and nothing needs to be repeated. Christ’s sacrifice was sufficient—once and for all. Because of Jesus, we are not only saved from the penalty of sin, but also from its power, so that we can live in restored relationship with God. This access is not a license for recklessness, but an invitation into righteousness—received by grace through faith and revealed through a life of obedience.

Jesus’ Seventh and Final Saying: A Beginning Disguised as an Ending

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit” (Luke 23:46).

He ends where He began, with the Father. Not in defeat, but in devotion.

After everything, He still entrusts Himself completely. This is not resignation. This is reconciliation fulfilled.

The Living Word, having accomplished the work, now returns back into the hands of the Father.

“So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:11)

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us…” (John 1:1, 14)

This is surrender at its highest form—not forced, but chosen. Not weak, but willing. And in that moment, He shows us something eternal: true trust is not proven when life is easy, but when obedience costs everything.

These were never just sayings. Each word Jesus whispered as He gasped for air during His breaths were revelations.

Forgiveness in pain. Salvation in a moment. Care in the middle of chaos. Honesty in suffering. Humanity in weakness. Victory in completion. And trust at the very end.

Together, they form a complete picture of Christ. This is what it means to embody Him. Not perfection. But surrender. Not control. But trust. Not performance. But obedience rooted in love.

You are not just reading His last words. You are being invited into His way of living:

• To forgive when it hurts.
• To believe when it feels too late.
• To care about the family of faith when you’re exhausted.
• To be honest when the weight is heavy.
• To empathize with humanity.
• To trust—even when God feels silent.
• And to accept the great commission of making disciples by proclaiming the good news of the finished work of the cross.

Because what Jesus released in His final breath was not just His spirit—it was access. And what looked like the end of His life became the beginning of yours, opening the way for restored relationship with God and the promise of being filled with His Spirit.