Woman, Behold Your Son
7 Words, John 19:16-27, Remsen Bible Fellowship, 3/30/25
In John 1:5 we read that, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” Unless of course you’re reading a translation which says, “the darkness has not understood it.” Why is there discrepancy? The Greek word which John uses can mean either to understand/comprehend, or to lay hold of/conquer/overcome. And as you read John’s gospel, it seems he chose an intentionally flexible word because both possible meanings are true. The Word became flesh, the Son took on humanity as Jesus of Nazareth, and the Light of Life himself shone into the darkness of our sin-sick world. And that world could neither comprehend Jesus, or overcome his light.
One of the most difficult aspects of Jesus to understand is how Jesus exercised his unconquerableness. By dying on the cross. Jesus reigns over all the universe. And that rule and reign are not only predicated upon his cross work, but were exercised while he hung on the tree.
After the mock trials of Jesus in John 18 and 19, beginning in John 19:16b we read the following:
So they took Jesus, 17 and he went out, bearing his own cross, to the place called The Place of a Skull, which in Aramaic is called Golgotha. 18 There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, and Jesus between them. 19 Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” 20 Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. 21 So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am King of the Jews.’ ” 22 Pilate answered, “What I have written I have written.”
Pilate turned Jesus over, and the soldiers took him out. But note how John phrases this: he went out. John doesn’t mention the soldiers leading him; it just says he went. Note also the emphasis that John makes in regard to the cross: bearing his own cross. We know from the other accounts that somewhere along this journey, likely at the city gate, Jesus’ body gave way under the cross. So Simon of Cyrene is enlisted to carry it the rest of the way. But all during this meandering walk of shame through the city, Jesus is carrying the cross-bar on which he will be hung.
They took Jesus out to Golgotha, the Place of a Skull, and there crucified him. This would have consisted of laying him down on the cross-piece, nailing his hands down, lifting him up to just above eye-level, and then nailing his feet in.
“As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (John 3:14-15).
What was Jesus’ transgression, according to Pilate? Why was he crucified? The crimes of crucified criminals were listed above their heads, and the sign over Jesus read: Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. He was crucified for being the King.
Verse 20 says that this sign was read by many. This is because the place of crucifixion was near the city, right beside the road. Further, as Jesus was led to the cross, one of the soldiers leading him would have carried this sign. It would have been read by all, because in large black or red letters, the sign was written in three languages: Aramaic, the language of the region; Latin, the language of the soldiers and official language of the empire; and Greek, the lingua franca, the universal trade language.
This signage offended the leaders, who cried out, “Pilate, change the words! Say this is what he claimed, not who he is!”
But Pilate refused. What I have written I have written. This statement of Pilate is most likely one of spite. He’s annoyed by the Sanhedrin who have put him in this precarious position. The sign is clearly meant to be a burr under their saddle. But what is God saying with this sign? What Pilate has written is absolutely true—and it renders judgment over all who look to the cross and fail to see that this is the King of the Jews. God uses even the spiteful actions of sinful men to communicate his message.
In verses 23-24, the camera pans, as it were, from the big and “important” people (Pilate, chief priests, etc) toward the soldiers.
23 When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his garments and divided them into four parts, one part for each soldier; also his tunic. But the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom, 24 so they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.” This was to fulfill the Scripture which says,
“They divided my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.”
The soldiers, four of them, sat beneath Jesus' body and gambled for his clothes. It was typical for the executing officers to split up the prisoner’s belongings at a crucifixion. While John doesn’t spell out what they’d already divided up, it was probably his sandals, belt, headpiece, and outer robe. The logical thing to do with the last and most valuable piece, this chiton worn next to the skin, would have been to split it down the seams—but Jesus’ chiton had no seams. So they say, let us not tear it but cast lots for it to see whose it shall be.
While this scene at first seems to be a simple human story of dividing things up in the most equitable way possible, mundane as can be, John wants us to see something greater at work. This was to fulfill the Scripture which says, in Psalm 22:18,
18 they divide my garments among them,
and for my clothing they cast lots.
It’s as if John is saying, look at this tiny detail! Something so mundane, so part of every crucifixion, and yet in Jesus’ case it fulfills a greater purpose: filling up, completing those things which are predicted of Christ in the Old Testament.
In Psalm 22 David was telling of his own struggles with persecution and feeling abandoned by God. But as David’s greater Son, Jesus is more righteous. Therefore his suffering is even more unjust. And his suffering is greater, to the point where the language that David uses metaphorically for his suffering becomes literally true of Jesus. Jesus fulfills - fills up - what David wrote.
The camera now shifts slightly from the soldiers to the witnesses standing next to the cross.
So the soldiers did these things, 25 but standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.
Four women are mentioned here. Mary the mother of Jesus, and her sister. They are not named, but they are identified. Also mentioned are Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Matthew mentions a crowd of women (27:55) looking on from a distance—it seems likely that this group of four listed by John were among that larger crowd, but that at some point they drew close to be near Jesus.
Jesus’ mother Mary is left unnamed, as she is all throughout this gospel. And I think it is important to note that while Mary is an important figure in the gospel narratives - she gave birth to the Savior! - she is not some superhuman saint-like figure. She is certainly a model of faith. But it’s a faith that is a model for us because it is like unto us. There’s a real sense in which we must say that Mary is not special. She’s not sinless, she’s not perfect in her understanding, and she is just as confused and broken at the crucifixion as all the rest of Jesus’ followers.
Here, at the foot of the cross, we don’t see Mary the mediatrix, standing between God and the church. Some Catholic commentators interpret the verses which follow by spiritualizing Jesus’ statement of care for his mother—they flip it around, saying that John, representing the church, is cared for by Mary. But this is not taught anywhere in the New Testament - Mary doesn’t take care of the church - and is in fact the opposite of what Jesus is about to say.
Mary is an important figure in this narrative, but this is how we should see her: as a normal human mother, whose heart is broken by the unjust murder of her oldest Son. This fulfilled the prophecy spoken by Simeon when Mary and Joseph had taken the baby Jesus to be presented in the temple thirty years earlier: Luke 2:34-35, “Behold this child is appointed for the fall and rising of many in Israel, and for a sign that is opposed (and a sword will pierce through your own soul also), so that the thoughts from many hearts will be revealed.” The soul of Mary was pierced, and she stood at the foot of the cross as the grieving Mother - and a confused follower - of Jesus.
The other person mentioned but not named in verse 25 is Mary’s sister, and this has led many to assume that, given John’s reticence to name himself or his family members in his writing, that this could be his mother, Salome. This makes good sense of numerous passages in Scripture, but especially the ones that follow in 26-27.
26 When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” 27 Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.
Some have wondered when reading these verses, where is the rest of Jesus’ family? Presumably Joseph had died by this point. But, according to Mark 6:3, Jesus had at least four brothers: James, Joseph, Simon, and Jude. Additionally, he had sisters. The sisters could be among the crowd of women mentioned by Matthew, but where are his brothers? Well, John 7:5 tells us that, “not even his brothers believed in him.” They didn’t believe that Jesus was the Messiah. They didn’t believe he was the king of the Jews.
A couple of instances from gospels indicate that Jesus’ brothers were perhaps embarrassed by him, or at the very least concerned for him. But now, in the hour of his crucifixion, they certainly don’t want any more guilt by association. Look where his crazy talk had led him. He’s hung on a tree, bearing the curse of God (Deuteronomy 21:23, “a hanged man is cursed by God”).
On one level, this makes complete sense. We probably have all had experiences where family members embarrass us and we feel like cutting ties would make life a lot simpler. Indeed, it may even be necessary in certain instances. But Jesus’ brothers haven’t just abandoned their brother in the hour of his death—they have abandoned their mother in the hour of her deepest grief. She needs comfort, and going forward, she will need to be cared for.
And here we see a striking exercise of power, of rule, by our Lord Jesus. As he hung there on the cross, he looked down and saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved. Again, this disciple is almost certainly John, and their closeness is all the more easily understood when we realize that they were likely cousins and had known each other John’s whole life. Jesus looks down, and he says, “woman, behold your son”, and to the disciple, “behold, your mother!”
What do we learn about Jesus here? We learn that, as I just stated, he is still in control. He’s in control of his thoughts. When you are in the midst of suffering, where do your thoughts most naturally turn? Are you given to wallowing in self-pity, in “woe-is-me” patterns of rumination? Jesus, who is enduring physical suffering on par with anything ever experienced by another human, and mentally and spiritually is far greater than anyone else ever experienced, is not consumed by self-pity. He, instead, is concerned with those who have gathered to grieve.
We actually saw this on his journey to the cross a couple of weeks ago in Luke 23:28-31, where he told the weeping women of Jerusalem to weep for themselves, not for him—because judgement was coming to their land. Now, hanging on the cross, he concerns himself with the needs of his mother and his beloved disciple.
As we look at Jesus’ words to Mary, it becomes clear that Jesus wants her to consider John her son. Again, it’s worth noting he is quite likely her nephew biologically. So this is Jesus looking to the nearest male relative whom he can trust, the closest of kin who is also a believer. He doesn’t say to Mary, “go find my brother James and make sure he takes care of you, that’s his job as the next oldest.” Instead, he looks to the one man standing by the cross, and says, “woman, behold your son.”
We might be taken aback by Jesus’ use of the term “woman” to speak to his mother. It sounds almost derisive or disrespectful in English. But it would not have been so in Greek. Jesus clearly has the highest respect and honor for his mother, and is here making provision for her. Even in the hour of his greatest suffering, Jesus is providing for the needs of others.
And when I say “others”, that includes John. It sounds like Jesus is just giving John a job here. “Behold, your mother.” You kind of wonder how his actual mother, standing right there, felt about Jesus’ words. It’s as if Jesus is telling John that he is now responsible for both of them. But I want to argue that even in entrusting this weighty responsibility to John, Jesus is not merely adding a burden, but is in fact demonstrating profound love for his disciple. As human beings, one of the tools God has given us for coping with and moving through times of grief is the continued presence of other responsibilities in our lives.
Again, the temptation in the face of grief is often to turn in toward yourself. “The heart knows its own bitterness” (Proverbs 14:10). But Jesus will not allow John to become self-absorbed in grief. And you might say, of course not will, Jesus is coming back in three days and the grief will be gone. But we know that his ascension a few weeks later will still mean that, even though his death on the cross was not the end, he really was leaving his disciples. Sorrow filled their hearts (John 16:6). But Jesus left them with work to do.
Specifically, Jesus left John with the task of taking care of his mother. And the text tells us that John did just that—he brought Mary into his home “from that hour” (v27). In his book on the biblical and cultural importance of work, Full Time, financial advisor David Bahsen talks about the important role work played in his life following the death of his father when David was only 21. His mother had died six years previously, and so to lose his father left David in a time of identity crisis and wondering where he fit in the world. He writes early in the book of the role work played in giving him a productive outlet to help figure out who God wanted him to be. Having something outside of himself upon which to focus and labor was crucial for his own growth and development. I would imagine many of us here could think of similar times in our own lives—where if we had turned inward it could have been ugly. But the opportunity to continue working, or continue serving your family, or to be otherwise engaged in serving others provides the ballast you need in the midst of life’s storms.
Friends, this isn’t escapism. It’s also not to deny the importance of truly experiencing grief or intentionally thinking through and processing life’s hardships in your own mind, or better still, with a trusted friend or counselor. But I do want us to acknowledge this obvious truth: no matter what has happened to you or around you, life continues to move on, and you must move with it. Breakfast still needs to be made, the mortgage still needs to be paid, the kids still need you mentally engaged, and Jesus’ mother still needed someone to be responsible for her. Continued responsibilities are a gift from God to keep us grounded in the real world outside of our own heads.
I really do think we should see Jesus’ words to John in this text as a precious gift to the disciple whom he loved.
Jesus, hanging from the cross, was ruling. And he was ruling love, serving the needs of his people. He saw Mary’s need to be taken care of. He saw John’s need to serve. And in this third word from the cross, we hear Jesus addressing the needs of his people.
What do you need this morning? You could answer that question in a lot of ways, many of them perfectly legitimate. But you have no greater need than to hear the voice of provision which Jesus speaks from the cross.
It’s easy to look at the cross and see a travesty and a tragedy, and in human terms of course it was. But we must remember that, every step of the way, Jesus was in control. In John 10:17-18 we read these words of Jesus:
17 For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life that I may take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. This charge I have received from my Father.
Jesus was no victim of circumstance on the cross. His death on the cross was intentional. His intention was to provide for you. To pay for your sins, and for John’s, and for Mary’s, and for mine. To bear the weight of our guilt, that he might bring us into the fold. John 10:14-16,
14 I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.
Heed the voice of the Good Shepherd who was crucified for you. Obey him and receive the abundant life he designed you for. Believe his promise and receive his greatest provision—the forgiveness of your sins.
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