And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.” One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” (Luke 23:35-39)

As Jesus hung on the cross, bloody and beaten, the voices of the crowd around Him yelled the challenge: “If you are the Christ… save yourself.” The crowds, the rulers, the soldiers – even the criminal crucified beside Him – taunted and tempted Him to prove His identity through performance. They questioned His power and mocked His silence.

Here’s the thing - Jesus had heard those same temptations before.

In the wilderness, Satan confronted Jesus after forty days of fasting with words just as biting: “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread.” “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here.” (Luke 4) The enemy attacked Jesus’ identity and tried to bait Him into proving who He was by showcasing His power. But Jesus didn’t take the bait. Instead, He stood on the Word, repeating again and again: “It is written…” He resisted the devil and the devil fled from Him.

Now, years later, as He was nailed to the cross, the temptations returned – but this time in human voices. Still, Jesus didn’t flinch, He set His face like a flint (Isaiah 50:7). Jesus didn’t need to defend Himself or prove anything because He knew who He was. His silence wasn’t weakness; it was strength. He could have called legions of angels. He could have come down from the cross. But He stayed there because His mission wasn’t to prove Himself, it was to save us.

We, too, will face moments when our identity is questioned – when people, or even our own thoughts, whisper, “If you really are loved by God, then why are you suffering?” or “If you’re truly an upright child of God, why don’t you defend yourself?” These temptations are subtle, but dangerous. They push us to perform, to seek validation from people, and to defend ourselves instead of trusting God – to be our defender and in His sovereign plan.

But my friend, if you are in Christ, your identity is secure. You are a child of God, fully known and fully loved. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Scripture says, “You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You” (Isaiah 26:3), and “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). When temptation to prove ourselves comes, to effectively resist the devil, we only need to stand firm on God’s Word, trusting that it’s true, and that God is a God of His word and will strengthen you to overcome.

Just as Jesus did – the Word of God is still the weapon that silences every single lie.

Don’t let the world’s taunts or satan’s whispers shake you, just let them roll off like water on a duck’s back. Resist the urge to react or defend yourself in the flesh – it will only lead to sin. Instead, stand firm, trust the Father, and keep your eyes fixed on Jesus, your Messiah. The One who didn’t save Himself so He could save you will give you the strength to overcome every temptation.

Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. (Luke 23:32-34)

As Jesus hung between two criminals, blood already beginning to flow from the scourging, thorns piercing His brow, the weight of the wooden cross pressing against torn flesh – His first recorded words were not a cry of pain or a plea for justice. They were a prayer: “Father, forgive them.”

Even before the hours of agony ahead – before the mocking, the suffocation, and the slow crawl toward death – His heart was already full of forgiveness. This was no spontaneous act of mercy. Jesus’ forgiveness was a resolve carried into the cross, not formed upon it. He had already decided to love, to forgive, to endure. He wasn’t overcome by grace in the moment; He embodied grace.

This is the Lamb who was “slain from the foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8). Long before nails pierced His hands, long before humanity fell in the garden, long before the first breath of man – He knew. He knew we would betray, deny, and crucify Him. He knew the cross would be necessary. And still, He created us.

What kind of love He is! That a holy God would form us from dust, breathe life into us, knowing full well that we would rebel, and that redeeming us would cost Him everything.

Yet on the cross, He said it aloud: “Father, forgive them.” Not because the Father needed convincing, but because we did. In His spoken words, He removed all doubt. The forgiveness He carried in His heart from eternity past was now echoing through time and space for all to hear.

And those words weren’t just for the Roman soldiers or the angry crowd - they were for you. They were for me. They were for anyone who’s ever felt the crushing weight of guilt or the ache of shame. He not only bore our sins, He then declared us forgiven in the very act of bearing them.

Jesus didn’t wait for repentance before offering forgiveness. He didn’t demand we understand the depth of our offense first. No, “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). The cross was not merely the result of our sin – it was the remedy for it. His forgiveness wasn’t reactive, it was proactive. It was eternal and unshakable.

So, when you wonder if you’re too far gone, too broken, or too late – let go of that lie and look to the cross. Hear His words. Remember: He forgave you before you ever knew you needed it. Thank Him for that forgiveness and if necessary, ask for help to receive it freely. I pray that we may always walk in the forgiveness and freedom that Christ died to freely give us.

Pilate then called together the chief priests and the rulers and the people, and said to them, “You brought me this man as one who was misleading the people. And after examining him before you, behold, I did not find this man guilty of any of your charges against him. Neither did Herod, for he sent him back to us. Look, nothing deserving death has been done by him. I will therefore punish and release him.” But they all cried out together, “Away with this man, and release to us Barabbas”— a man who had been thrown into prison for an insurrection started in the city and for murder. Pilate addressed them once more, desiring to release Jesus, but they kept shouting, “Crucify, crucify him!” A third time he said to them, “Why? What evil has he done? I have found in him no guilt deserving death. I will therefore punish and release him.” But they were urgent, demanding with loud cries that he should be crucified. And their voices prevailed. So Pilate decided that their demand should be granted. (Luke 23:13-24)

Pilate was not a worshiper of God. Yet when Jesus became an issue he could no longer avoid, Pilate had to look directly into the face of truth. And what he saw, again and again, was innocence, as he repeated three times, “I find no guilt in this man.” Logic, evidence, and even his own conscience pointed to one conclusion: Jesus had done nothing worthy of death.

Still, the crowd would not relent, and the cries to crucify Him echoed through the air. And in the end, “their voices prevailed.” Not justice. Not truth. Not the integrity of a Roman governor in a seat of power. Just the pressure of a crowd prevailing.

Pilate’s failure is one we’re tempted to repeat in subtle ways. When standing for truth becomes costly – when it risks our reputation, our influence, or our comfort – how often do we remain silent or step aside? Though Pilate had no covenant relationship with God, his position still demanded a standard of righteousness. Authority always carries responsibility. And when Pilate yielded to the mob, he wasn’t just handing over an innocent man – he was surrendering to fear.

Charles Spurgeon once said, “He who kneels before God can stand before any man.” But Pilate didn’t kneel. He stood in front of Truth incarnate and crumbled under the weight of the crowd’s lofty chant. His heart may have been momentarily stirred, but ultimately his spine failed him. And with that, he walked away complicit in the greatest injustice the world has ever known.

As followers of Christ, we are not called to blend into the crowd, but to reflect the character of our King. Jesus stood silent in the face of false accusation, not because He lacked strength, but because He knew His silence fulfilled the Father’s will. He bore injustice to make us just. But now that we are made right with God, we must be willing to stand for what is right – even when it costs us something.

You may never face a literal crowd crying out against you. But you will face moments when the easy path is to ignore injustice, to overlook a lie, to choose silence when truth is begging to be spoken. In those moments, remember Pilate – and choose differently.

If you’ve been in Pilate’s shoes before, where your spine has failed you – take heart: there is grace. Let that grace move you to a new resolve of choosing to stand for truth. Let us be people of courage, grounded in prayer, fearless in the face of pressure – because we kneel before the throne of God.