Matthew 27:42Meaning & Commentary from the Church Fathers

They claimed, “This man opened the eyes of the blind” and acknowledged, “He saved others.” Thus, the Lord gained a twofold advantage: He exposed their concealed mockery, when they said, “He cannot do this,” and simultaneously turned them into witnesses affirming His power to perform miracles. They remarked, “He saved others; Himself, He cannot save,” and in their scorn, they inadvertently honored Him. Though they mocked Him by asserting, “He cannot come down from the Cross,” they inadvertently recognized Him as the Life-giver by their own words, “He saved others.” Just as Elisha, in his death, revived a lifeless man (2 Kings 13:21), he foreshadowed the one who conquered death through His own death, emerging victorious and bringing the dead back to life to rebuke those who conspired against Him. The scoffers who jeered, “He saved others, but He cannot save Himself,” found themselves ridiculed by the very bones of Elisha, which, although they brought life to others, had no power to revive themselves. They had no desire to revive, for they were not dead; had they truly been dead, they couldn’t have revived anyone. Thus, since these dry bones could restore life to others, they themselves had no need for a corrupted existence, for they found their everlasting life and rest in heaven. If the lifeless body that touched Elisha’s bones could summon new life from death, how much more might believers draw the gift of eternal life from the body of the Son? He who commanded death to return souls at His command could also will the Cross to release Him. But to ensure that they could not justify their words that He didn’t descend from the Cross and thus refuted His Deity, He performed miracles: He split the rocks, raised the dead, commanded the stones and scattered them; death did not hinder the righteous from emerging from their graves at His call. The very voice of the Lord heralded hell’s impending doom, urging it to prepare for His commanding voice that would eventually annihilate it. If they believed that because of the Son’s apparent weakness, the flesh He inhabited suffered in vain, they were akin to the Philistines who, in their ignorance, thought they could mistreat God’s ark without consequence (1 Samuel 5). If the Philistines faced divine retribution, what fate awaited those who crucified Him? The Philistines were freed from their plagues but remained in their own land; conversely, the afflictions of the so-called circumcised, who were spiritually uncircumcised, tormented them daily, without hope of returning to their rightful place. If they scorn us for the Body they executed and buried, their derision only prepares their own disgrace, for that very Body has risen and now resides at the right hand of God. Moses broke the tablets upon which God had inscribed sacred words, remnants of which were never again restored or given life or renewal, unlike the bodies of even the most sinful. If they claim that the Holy One never inhabited a womb, Jeremiah rebukes this notion, declaring, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born, I sanctified you” (Jeremiah 1:5). If they mock the Cross, let them remember the account of the serpents in the wilderness, where the faithful found healing through the bronze serpent, yet the Jews vilified the Cross as a symbol of curse. They honored the ram caught in the thicket (Genesis 22:13), a representation of the true Lamb on the glorious Cross who, in place of Isaac, redeemed the captive world. While the people received condemnation, He liberated them through the cursed One, reconciling the Gentiles through the Life-giver of all. The Israelites, having been delivered to the cursed serpent through whom Moses raised the banner of salvation, reverently acknowledged the bronze serpent though it merely saved their bodies while endangering their souls. Those who refused to gaze upon the serpent perished from their wounds; perhaps they were deemed unworthy to behold God and thus turned to a serpent, akin to themselves, to receive healing. Recognizing the people of Judah’s disbelief in the Son, God revealed the serpent (Numbers 21:9) to scandalize the crucifiers, as the Israelites in the wilderness honored the image of their Savior. The sanctuary was burnt, and the temple was razed—symbols of Christ—much like His Body was, for His body mirrored the temple. The Babylonians embodied the crucifiers. If one argues that God acted in judgment because of their sins, I inquire: What sins could be attributed to the temple, the altar, or even to Daniel and his companions? Their sacrifice was for righteousness, just as the promised gifts followed such acts, so too the body raised on the Cross, lifted for righteousness. “On His servants,” says He, “He has mercy” (cf. Psalm 134:14). The first act of praise from the Creator was the formation of all creatures; the second was His revelation to them. As He knew them, so He desired to be known. From Him came forth the name of the Godhead, revealed through Moses (Exodus 4:16), that the Egyptians would recognize the God who governs all. From the same source emerged the Word, who became flesh, so that the creatures might know the God of all humanity. Thus, in the name of God, which was given to Moses, the Deity of the Son was proclaimed, and through the Son, the lineage of God was unveiled. The Egyptians disregarded Moses and faced his judgment. Yet they believed in the Son and were redeemed through His Cross. Through the rod of Moses, a type of the Cross, the nations were forewarned: the Egyptians through the plagues, and the Amalekites through battle understood the significance of this Cross. But when the Cross was unveiled, they were illuminated by its teachings and gained understanding. God honored the Israelites and drew them through the image of the Cross. However, when He revealed Himself—the one by whose signs they were exalted—they treated Him as a sign of every form of punishment and, in their defiance, sought to exclude Him. Although Israel, drawn in by abundant grace, was seemingly enlightened, they grew dull, indulged, and obstinate (cf. Deuteronomy 32:15). From their youth, they were nurtured by the Cross’s prefigurations, and in their old age faced bondage among the Gentiles. “Whoever is weary shall be handed over to bondage” (cf. Proverbs 29:21). The true essence of these symbols was disclosed to them but distorted, even though they had long been instructed through many types to recognize Him. They failed to acknowledge the Body that once overshadowed them in the wilderness. Through the tree, His likeness made their water pure, and through the serpent’s sign, they escaped the serpent's bites; nevertheless, the Sabbath and circumcision could not save them. They turned away from the very visage whose image was constantly paraded before them, perceiving Him as a stranger in the beauty radiating from His true form. All the prophets could only depict His likeness, for the sign of the rod lacked the perfection of the Cross's sign, and the glory of the tree that sweetened the water was inferior to the beauty of the tree that rendered the Gentiles gentle and pure. Everywhere the likeness of Christ, embodied in the Son of God, reflected through these types, shook and awed all creation: the sea yielded to His rod, the serpents yielded to His sign, and the bitter waters yielded to His representation. Wherever Truth manifested, all who were filled with impurity were swiftly rejected. Here lies a spring of joy, offering delights to all who partake, free from envy of one another. The water surged forth and flowed abundantly, ensuring no one would covet another's refreshment.

They engage in wickedness by conflating the title of the Son of God with that of the chosen one, while previously acknowledging the Son of God in a context that emphasizes His divinity. Their folly lies in anticipating a miracle from the King of Israel. The inscription placed by Pilate has muddled their reasoning; they intended to assert, “If He is the King-Messiah as proclaimed, let Him descend from the cross, and we will acknowledge Him as the Messiah.” Nevertheless, the Sanhedrin aims to convince the public that Jesus cannot be the Messiah, a title which they are compelled to recognize. Who among them is disinterested in the Messiah? The Sanhedrin is preoccupied with Him, eager to embrace Him above all others. But is Jesus truly the Messiah? How does the Sanhedrin justify to the people that Jesus does not fulfill this role? The Nazarene Teacher substantiated His divine mission through miracles, yet the Sanhedrin scorns these works. They say, “He saves others.” But can mockery serve as evidence? No, trivializing such a serious matter is akin to folly, and malicious derision is even worse. Does the Sanhedrin mean to assert, as they have suggested before, that Jesus’ miracles originated from Beelzebub? Yet they have been shown that such notions reveal a profound ignorance. The Sanhedrin demands proof that Jesus is the Messiah. What kind of proof? “Let Him come down from the cross,” they assert. But their understanding is seriously flawed. What did David prophesy concerning the Messiah? Psalm 21, recognized by Jewish tradition as a reference to the Messiah, includes the line, “My hands and my feet have been pierced” (Psalm 21:17). The method of crucifixion was unfamiliar in David's time. It is evident that, through prophetic vision, David foresaw the fate of the Messiah—otherwise, he was witnessing the very actions inflicted upon Jesus by the Sanhedrin's efforts. How, then, can the Sanhedrin insist that Jesus come down from the cross? If the Messiah was destined to suffer for humanity's sins (Isaiah 53; Daniel 9), wouldn't Jesus’ descent from the crucifixion signify that He was not the Messiah? Is the Sanhedrin seeking a miracle from Jesus? This is akin to Satan tempting Jesus by saying, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down.” Indeed, the Sanhedrin is testing God by demanding a sign after witnessing countless miracles, while concurrently deriding those miracles. “It is far more significant to rise from the tomb than to come down from the cross,” and yet Caiaphas remained unchanged. He silently endured the Savior’s scorn without uttering a word in response to the malice directed at Him. And why should He respond, when His adversaries were already articulating the truth about Him through the words of the prophet (Psalm 21:8)?

Yet, as Philaret, Archbishop of Chernigov, notes, these misguided teachers, proud of their scriptural knowledge, truly lacked understanding of the Word. What does David reveal about the Messiah? His Psalm 22 has long been acknowledged as a prophetic song about the Anointed One. In this psalm, the suffering Messiah declares, ‘my hands and my feet have been pierced’ (Psalm 22:17). In David’s time, crucifixion was unknown. It is evident that David, in prophetic vision, foresaw the future destiny of the Messiah and the events that have now transpired in Jesus through the schemes of the Sanhedrin.

We have consistently warned the people that a Sabbath-breaker, a friend of tax collectors and sinners, cannot be the Messiah, the King of Israel; do not be misled by His miracles, performed by the power of Beelzebub. Many refused to listen to us then, and what is the outcome? The One who claims to be the Son of God is being crucified alongside transgressors! Some assumed our persecution stemmed from personal grievances, but are we not also longing for the arrival of the true Messiah, the genuine King of Israel? We would surely follow Him if He were to reveal Himself. Yet how can we acknowledge Him as the Messiah while He is suspended on the cross? For the law of Moses states, Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree. If He truly is the King of Israel, let Him descend from the cross now, and we shall be the first to believe in Him. Let Him come down! But what prevents Him from coming down? He who placed His trust in God and referred to Him as His Father? If He cannot free Himself from the cross, if His life truly brings God pleasure, then may God rescue Him from this disgraceful execution… Yet God remains silent to His cries.” These blasphemous statements evidently impacted the onlookers, as the Evangelist Luke notes that the rulers joined in the mockery (Luke 23:35). This addition suggests that initially, the crowd, struck by Christ's humility and His prayer for those nailing Him to the cross, stood in a stunned silence; however, when the rulers taunted Him, the same bold jeers emerged from the crowd. Those passing by derided Him, shaking their heads, and saying, “You who destroy the temple and in three days rebuild it, save Yourself; if You are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” Were these not the false witnesses who had appeared eagerly at the night session of the Sanhedrin to accuse Jesus? Their mockery of His claim to destroy the temple and raise it in three days, while echoing their trial accusations, suggests their participation in the scandal. Certainly, their words were echoed by others in the crowd.

Why did Christ not descend from the cross? If He had done so, He would have showcased His divine authority, compelling everyone to believe in Him. This question resonates with many skeptics today. How should we respond? The One whose word commanded demons to obey, whose authority calmed the storms and healed diseases even from afar, could have surely chosen to come down if it had been warranted. Thus, His refusal to descend indicates there were profound reasons behind it, known only to God. We, as sinful beings, may not grasp these reasons completely, yet we can infer possibilities from the teachings of Christ Himself. The Gospel reveals that Christ positioned Himself, in His humanity, as a model of perfect virtue available for our emulation; He commanded that we mirror His life and follow His example. To serve as that pattern of perfection, He could not have employed His divine power for personal relief; otherwise, He would be an unattainable standard, making His commands seem impossible to fulfill and thwarting the purpose of His incarnation. We understand that He never wielded His divine power to ease His sufferings. As a Man, He grew weary and sought nourishment and rest; He experienced hunger and thirst; He expressed joy and sorrow and could not always conceal His grief, often moved to tears. He faced temptation as a Man, overcoming not by His divine essence but through His submission to the Father’s will; He instructed us to embrace this same path to conquer our struggles with temptation. In Gethsemane, He trembled at the thought of the suffering impending before Him and pleaded with the Father to postpone His will; yet, He ultimately triumphed through His surrender, saying, “Not My will, but Thy will be done” (Luke 22:42). When He submitted to the Father’s will, the excruciating sufferings on the cross evoked a very human cry from Him: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46). In that moment of unbearable agony, one may wonder why the inherent divine power of Christ did not mitigate His unjust suffering. It is my belief that had Christ come down from the cross, or rendered His suffering void, He could not remain an example of true humanity—an embodiment of what we ought to become—and the purpose of His ministry would have remained unfulfilled. He achieved His mission precisely because He refrained from using His divine authority to alleviate His human suffering and infirmity. Indeed, Christ, as Man, fully adhered to all His commandments; He lived exactly as He taught us to live; His actions were always in harmony with His words; through His divine power, He never lightened the burden of His own commandments; therefore, in His humanity, He stands as a compelling example for us to emulate, affirming that we can live as He lived.

Let the Christ, the King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe.” The soldiers and bystanders echoed these contemptuous remarks, creating an atmosphere akin to a savage revelry around the One who was suffering.