✍️ Ayodeji Oludapo
📅 April 21, 2025
📖 Scripture
So when Jesus had received the sour wine, He said, “It is finished!” And bowing His head, He gave up His spirit. —
John 19:30 (NKJV)
When Jesus spoke the words “It is finished”, He wasn't uttering a sigh of resignation. He was making a divine declaration—a shout of triumph that echoed across eternity. The Greek word used here is “Tetelestai”, which means “paid in full.” It was a term used in the ancient world when a debt had been completely satisfied. Jesus was proclaiming that the full price for sin had been paid. No more sacrifices. No more striving. No more separation.
The cross stands as the hinge of human history—before it, mankind lived in the shadow of sin and the weight of the Law. After it, the door to grace and mercy swung wide open. The veil in the temple was torn from top to bottom (Matthew 27:51), not by human hands, but by the hand of God, symbolizing the new access to His presence that was purchased through the blood of Christ.
It’s more than a symbol. It’s a substitution. It’s more than an event. It’s an eternal exchange. On the cross, Jesus took the wrath of God that we deserved and gave us the righteousness we never could earn. He bore the curse so we could walk in blessing. He died alone so we could live never alone again.
Beside Jesus hung two men—both guilty, both dying, but only one turned to Him in faith. With no time left to "make things right" in his life, this thief simply said, “Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.” And Jesus answered him with the most staggering promise: “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:42–43)
This shows the beauty of grace. The cross doesn't require us to perform—it invites us to believe. Jesus didn’t offer the thief a second chance at life—He offered him eternal life. And He did it right there, in the middle of suffering. Right there, while bleeding for the sins of the world. This is the heart of the cross: mercy in the midst of judgment, grace in the face of guilt, and hope in the valley of death.
We often live like we still have something to prove. We wrestle with guilt, carry shame, and measure ourselves against impossible standards. But the cross tells us a different story—a better story. It tells us: You are already loved, already forgiven, already accepted.
So, how do we respond? With surrender. With worship. With gratitude. We live from the cross, not toward it. Our devotion flows not to gain His love, but because we already have it.
The cross is not a moment to mourn but a reason to marvel. It is the altar where justice and mercy embraced. It is the eternal intersection where sin met its end and grace began its reign.
To say, “Thank You for the cross,” is to say: Thank You for the finished work. Thank You for taking my place. Thank You for loving me before I even knew You. Let us live each day in the shadow of the cross—not as a place of sorrow, but as the fountain of unending joy.
Lord Jesus, thank You for the cross. Thank You for finishing the work I never could. Thank You for bearing my shame, silencing my guilt, and opening the way to the Father. Remind me daily that I am forgiven, accepted, and free—not because of what I’ve done, but because of what You have done. Teach me to live with a grateful heart, to rest in Your grace, and to share this message of hope with others. In Your name I pray, Amen.