Matthew 27:41Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

They intended to convey, If He is the King-Messiah mentioned in the inscription, let Him come down from the cross, and we will accept Him as the Messiah. Regardless, the Sanhedrin aims to convince the public that Jesus is not the awaited Messiah, a stance they cannot honestly uphold. Who among them doesn’t long for the Messiah? The Sanhedrin contemplates Him, ready to acknowledge Him before anyone else. But could Jesus be the Messiah? What evidence does the Sanhedrin present to the crowd to justify claiming Jesus is not the Messiah? The Nazarene Teacher validated His divine mission through miracles, yet the Sanhedrin ridicules these acts. They declare, He saves others. But is derision truly evidence? No; mockery in such a critical context demonstrates disdain, and malicious mockery is even worse. Do they wish to suggest, as they have before, that Jesus' miracles are works of Beelzebub? Yet it has been established that such ideas are nothing but folly. The Sanhedrin calls for proof that Jesus is the Messiah. What kind of proof do they seek? He asserts, Let Him come down from the cross. But the Sanhedrin lacks understanding. What did David proclaim about the Messiah? His Psalm 21 is widely recognized in Jewish tradition as a song concerning the Messiah. An ancient rabbi highlights, This entire psalm discusses the Messiah, where the afflicter laments, My hands and my feet have been pierced (Psalm 21:17). The process of crucifixion was unknown in David's era. Clearly, David, inspired by prophecy, envisions the Messiah’s fate in the far future—unless, of course, he perceives what the Sanhedrin has orchestrated against Jesus. Why, then, does the Sanhedrin demand that Jesus descend from the cross? If the Messiah is meant to bear the sins of humanity (Isa. 53, Dan. 9), wouldn’t His act of descending contradict His position as the Messiah? Is the Sanhedrin looking for a miracle? Are they not mirroring Satan’s temptation to Jesus, If you are the Son of God, cast Yourself down? Indeed, the Sanhedrin tempts God by asking for a miracle after witnessing numerous ones, all while they ridicule them. It is far more significant to rise from the grave than to come down from the cross; yet, Caiaphas remains unchanged. He silently endures the Saviour’s reproaches, saying nothing in response to human spite. And why should He speak when His adversaries proclaim His nature through the words of the Prophet (Psalm 21:8)?

We have always warned the people that the Sabbath-breaker and the companion of tax collectors and sinners cannot be the Messiah, the King of Israel. We cautioned them against being misled by His miracles, which were performed through the power of Beelzebub; many disregarded our warnings, and look at the outcome! This man who claims to be the Son of God is crucified alongside criminals! Some believe our motives are personal, yet are we not all anticipating the true Messiah, the genuine King of Israel? Would we not choose to follow Him? However, we cannot acknowledge Him as the Messiah who hangs on that cross, for the law of Moses declares that cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree. If He indeed is the King of Israel, let Him descend from the cross now, and we will be the first to believe in Him. Let Him come down. But why doesn’t He come down from the cross? He who trusted in God and referred to Him as His Father? If He cannot come down and if He truly pleases God, then why does God not rescue Him from such a disgraceful execution...! But God does not deliver either..." This utterance of blasphemy seemed to resonate with the people; at least the Evangelist Luke notes that the rulers joined in their scorn (Luke 23:35). This addition can be understood as follows: initially, the crowd, struck by Christ's gentle demeanor and His prayer for those who condemned Him, stood transfixed, gazing at the somber scene in stunned silence. Yet as the rulers inserted themselves into the assembly and began their derision of Jesus, they sparked a similar insolence among the crowd. Those who walked by derided Him, shaking their heads, saying, “You who destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save Yourself; if You are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” Were these not the false witnesses who had eagerly testified against Jesus at the secret session of the Sanhedrin? Their mocking reference to the claim of demolishing the temple and raising it again in three days and their echo of their own testimonies imply that they were indeed mocking Him. Of course, their taunts were echoed by others as well.

The question arises: why did Christ not step down from the cross? If He had, He would have undoubtedly demonstrated His divine authority, compelling belief among all witnesses. Such inquiries persist among many skeptics today. What can be said in response? The One who commands the obedience of demons, winds, and even the waves of the sea; the One who healed countless illnesses even without being present; the One who raised the dead—He could have easily descended from the cross, if it had been necessary. Thus, His decision to remain upon it indicates that there were profound reasons behind it, reasons known only to God. Indeed, we as sinful beings might remain oblivious to those reasons, but we can still draw conclusions based on Christ’s own teachings. The Gospel reveals that Christ exemplified the ideal of perfection attainable to us as a result of His humanity; He beckoned us to emulate His life and to reflect His example. For Him to serve as a model of attainable perfection, He had to refrain from wielding His divine omnipotence for His own benefit; otherwise, He would have presented an impossible standard that conflicted with our human experience, making His commandments seem unachievable and undermining the purpose of His coming. We understand that He never invoked His divine authority to alleviate His human suffering and weaknesses. As a Man, He experienced fatigue, hunger, and thirst; He rejoiced and grieved, His sorrow often evident in tears. He faced temptations not by drawing upon the divine power inherent to Him as the Son of God, but through complete submission to the Father's will—a submission He commanded of us as the means to triumph in life's trials. In the Garden of Gethsemane, He shuddered at the thought of the suffering ahead and implored the Father for a reprieve; yet even this struggle culminated in His surrender to the Father’s desire, poignantly articulated in His words: “Not My will, but Thy will be done” (Luke 22:42). In His subjection to the Father's will, the agonizing physical torment on the cross evoked His profoundly human cry: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46). This raises the query: why, in such an agonizing moment, did Christ’s divine power not relieve His unjust suffering? Perhaps it is because if He had indeed come down from the cross, or if He had rendered His suffering imperceptible, He could not have served as our example, the model of authentic humanity that we should aspire to emulate. Consequently, the purpose of His earthly mission would not have been fulfilled. He realized His objective precisely because He abstained from employing His divine power to lessen His human trials. Indeed, as a Man, Christ adhered precisely to all His commandments; He lived according to the principles He taught others, ensuring His actions were consistent with His words. By never easing the weight of His own commandments through His divine authority, He established Himself as a binding example for us, urging us to live as He lived, and affirming that we indeed can.

Let Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.’ The soldiers and the mob repeated these derisions, creating an atmosphere that felt like a frenzied spectacle of cruelty and brutality surrounding the Suffering One.

They conspired together, scoffing, “He saved others; can He not save Himself? If He is indeed the Christ, the chosen of God, let Him come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe!” They challenged Him to rely on God for deliverance, taunting Him with the declaration of His divine sonship. In their blindness, they not only mocked the One nailed to the tree but also committed blasphemy against God the Father. Unbeknownst to them, their actions fulfilled the prophecy of King David, who had long foretold the humiliation of the suffering Messiah: “All they that see Me mock Me; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying, ‘He trusted in the Lord that He would deliver him: let Him deliver him, seeing He delighted in him’” (Ps. 21:8, 9). In their wretchedness, they derided their true Messiah in the person of the crucified Christ, and in rejecting Him, they turned away from the faith.

The example set by the Jewish authorities was mirrored by the Roman soldiers standing guard. These rough men, not comprehending the significance of the events, joined in the mockery, offering Him vinegar as a false gesture of empathy, repeating the taunt, “If Thou art the King of the Jews, save Yourself.” Thus, from every direction at Golgotha, cries for the crucified Savior to come down and free Himself from a disgraceful death were made, yet these cries were a wicked mockery, evident to all who opposed Him and parroted by followers. This wicked generation of scribes and Pharisees had repeatedly sought a sign from heaven to validate Jesus' divine authority, but each time they were met with the response that no sign would be granted to them except the sign of Jonah the prophet (Matt. 12:39, 40; Mk. 8:11; Lk. 11:29, 30). Was this new request for a sign from the cross not the last attempt of the same tempter who had approached Jesus at the outset of His ministry (Matt. 4:1-11; Luke 4:13)? The devil, the adversary of our salvation, recognized that Christ's crucifixion would spell the end of his reign (John 14:30; 16:11), and he sought through his perishing agents to undermine the significance of the cross of Christ (1 Cor. 1:17). Yet all the demands of senseless folly went unaddressed. It was unnecessary to provide a sign to those who had seen the miracles of the Lord yet still denied Him (John 12:37) and rejected God's will (Luke 7:30), for there was no genuine intent in them to discover the truth of Christ. Contrary to such foolish desires, the Divine Redeemer understood that He must drink the full measure of the cup of suffering (Matt. 20:22), a cup given by His Father which He willingly accepted (Matt. 26:42; John 10:17-18). He had often predicted His own suffering and death on the cross (Matt. 16:21; 17:12, 22-23; 20:18-19; 26:2; Mk. 8:31; 9:12, 31; 10:33; Lk. 9:22, 44; 13:33; 17:25; 21:15-16; 24:7), describing the specific circumstances surrounding His imminent death, including Judas' betrayal (Matt. 26:21-25; Mk. 14:18-21; Lk. 22:21; John 6:70; 13:18, 21, 26), Peter's denial (Matt. 26:34; Mk. 14:30; Lk. 22:34; John 13:38), the disciples' fleeing (Matt. 26:31; John 16:32), His death on the cross (John 3:14; 8:28; 12:32-33), and His burial (Matt. 26:12; Mk. 14:8; John 12:7). He declared that He was proceeding according to what had been foretold (Lk. 22:22) as it was written about Him (Matt. 26:24; Mk. 14:21), and even in anticipation of His imminent departure, He spoke to His disciples of what was soon to come (John 14:19; 16:5, 16, 28; 17:13).

Could the Son of Man, who had come for this very hour (John 12:27) to offer His life as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28; Mk. 10:45), have come down from the cross? No, He would not come down; all that was written in the Scriptures must be accomplished (Matt. 26:54; Lk. 24:26). Jerusalem, having failed to comprehend the time of its visitation (Lk. 19:44), had to surpass the measure of the ancient slayers of the prophets through their own culpability in His death (Matt. 23:32).

No harshness could deter the Lord’s mercy, which restores the fallen, from its sacred course, for a special sacrifice was being offered to God in that moment, and the slaying of Christ, the true Lamb foretold through the ages, opened the way for the children of promise into the liberty of faith. A new covenant was established, and through the blood of Christ, the heirs of the eternal kingdom were inscribed; the great high priest entered the holy place, and the pure priest traversed the veil of His flesh to make atonement to God. The transition was realized from the law to the Gospel, from the synagogue to the Church, and from a multitude of sacrifices to the singular Divine Sacrifice.

What did the most pure and holy soul of the God-Man, lifted upon the cross amidst unparalleled suffering, perceive and feel at the spectacle of that wicked assembly's mockery? Long before Golgotha, King David depicted the anguish and thoughts of the crucified sufferer in a prophetic portrayal. “A multitude of evildoers have surrounded Me; they have pierced My hands and My feet; I can count all My bones; they look and stare upon Me” (Psalm 21:17-18). “They opened their mouths against Me, the mouths of those who speak deceit, and their tongues,” he lamented concerning hateful words aimed at him in this very hour. Instead of love, they returned evil for good, hatred for His love (Ps. 108:2-5). “I have become estranged from My brothers” (Ps. 68:9). “My diseases have overtaken Me, and the snares of death have confronted Me” (Ps. 17:5-6). “To do Your will, O God, I delight; Your law is hidden within My heart” (Ps. 39:9). “But to You, O God, I make my supplication; in a time of favor, O God, in the multitude of Your mercy, answer me in the truth of Your salvation” (Ps. 68:14).

The Redeemer of humanity, while sacrificing Himself on the cross for the sins of the world, had no other thought than to fulfill the eternal decree of God. He affirmed, in agreement with the prophecy, “Behold, I come; in the volume of the book it is written of Me” (Ps. 39:8). Neither horrors, nor trials, nor the depths of humiliation could prevent Him from accomplishing the work He had come to do (John 4:34). On the cross, amidst the turmoil of human passions, He exemplified obedience even unto death, the death of the cross (Phil. 2:8). Not cries of anguish, but rather the words of prayer for forgiveness flowed from His lips, expressing boundless love for even those who crucified Him—the entirety of sinful humanity. He not only forgave His antagonists and executioners in that solemn hour of death, overlooking their transgressions, but also interceded on their behalf before the mercy of His Father, pleading for their acquittal, striving to justify them. He bore no consciousness of the suffering inflicted upon Him but only remembered that He suffered for their sins and the sins of all mankind. All, especially His enemies, ought to have realized, as expressed by Saint Ignatius, that “love was crucified.”

“It is not men on Golgotha who insult the majesty of God; the Providence of God watches the folly of men without infringing upon their freedom, using it to serve His perfect wisdom. It is not wicked servants who deceive the Lord: the all-good Father spares not His Son, lest He condemn the wicked. It is not earthly hostility that afflicts the love of heaven: divine love conceals itself in earthly animosity, that through love’s death it may vanquish enmity, spreading the light and life of love through the shadows of death. Thus, that which they did not intend, could not grasp, was executed by those who were wholly blind to it” (St. Philaret of Moscow).

In the depths of humiliation, amid the most profound suffering, and amidst the derision of a blinded mob, the supreme glory of the Cross and the triumph of Divine love were revealed, imperceptible to unbelief yet tangible to the faithful. His enemies endeavored to tarnish the final moments of the crucified Lord with their scorn—He, nonetheless, sought that His death might bring them benefit, obscuring their sins wrought in ignorance. In their fervor, they hastily took upon themselves and their descendants His innocent blood—He, in contrast, interceded that His blood would not be held against them. They rushed to fulfill the measure of their wrong—yet He endeavored to lessen its weight. “Father,” prayed the crucified Redeemer, “forgive them, for they know not what they do.” As the holy Apostle states, “For had they known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory” (1 Cor. 2:8); if they had embraced the Gospel proclamation, they would not have turned from the Holy and Righteous One, nor put to death the Prince of Life (Acts 3:14-15). Yet this ignorance was willful and guilty, stemming from an extreme blindness of heart and a hardened mind (Matthew 13:13-15). The Lord pleads for the forgiveness of sins committed in ignorance. This plea transcends even those who directly crucified Christ; it extends to all Jews who rejected their Messiah and played a part, however small, in His death, as well as to all who resist the Gospel message. The call for forgiveness reaches, as noted by St. John Damascene, “to all without exception—Greeks, Jews, foreigners, barbarians.” It does not exclude even those who, upon receiving Christian enlightenment and partaking in the Holy Spirit, later willfully crucify the Son of God anew (Heb. 6:4-6), disregard Him, dishonor the blood of the covenant as sacred, and insult the Spirit of grace (Heb. 10:29). Our Lord proclaimed, “Let it go, once,” yet His words resonate eternally; His call is not exclusive to enemies alone but extends to every nation. He continually calls, and whosoever is willing may receive forgiveness. Thus, the heavenly Teacher, who commanded love for enemies (Matt. 5:44), fulfilled this command in the final moments of His earthly life in the most perfect manner.