At the crucifixion—the darkest hour of human history—heaven spoke through the voice of the suffering Savior. Blood dripping, flesh torn, and breath short, Jesus opened His mouth not in complaint or accusation but in intercession. The first utterance from the Cross was not a cry of agony, a plea for justice, or a demand for vengeance. Instead, it was a prayer: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” These words hold divine depth and eternal significance. They reveal the heart of Christ and His mission, the fulfillment of prophecy, the power of mercy, and the model for Kingdom love.
Jesus had been betrayed, abandoned, falsely accused, mocked, spit on, scourged, and nailed to a cross. Every act against Him was brutal and unjust. Yet, instead of calling for heaven’s wrath to fall upon His executioners, He called upon heaven’s mercy to cover their ignorance. “Forgive them” was not simply a request for Roman soldiers. It was a plea for all of us. The “them” was inclusive—spanning the crowds that cried “Crucify Him,” the leaders who falsely accused Him, the disciples who fled Him, the soldiers who pierced Him, and the generations yet to be born who would sin against His holiness. That includes me. That includes you.
This is the very reason He came—to stand in the gap, to be the mediator between God and man, and to offer the sacrifice that would once and for all take away the sins of the world. “Behold the Lamb of God,” John the Baptist declared, “which taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29, KJV). The Cross is not a place of defeat, but a divine courtroom where the greatest intercession in history was made—not by the accused, but by the innocent Judge Himself.
When Jesus said “Father,” it was an intimate word—one that reminded us that the relationship between the Son and the Father was not broken, even though He was bearing the sin of the world. He prayed to the Father not as a distant deity, but as the ever-present Source of love and justice. This Father was not blind to sin, but He was bound by covenant love to redeem sinners. Jesus knew that forgiveness could only come from the Father, and so He placed His trust in the One who alone had the authority to pardon.
“Forgive them.” What a powerful phrase. The word “forgive” in the Greek is aphiemi, which means to let go, to send away, to cancel a debt. Jesus was asking the Father to release humanity from the judgment they deserved. He was praying for divine leniency in the face of their violent ignorance. This forgiveness was not cheap. It was not overlooking sin—it was absorbing it. He who knew no sin became sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21, KJV), and as He bore our transgressions, He released the power of redemption. Jesus was interceding as both Priest and Sacrifice.
“For they know not what they do.” Ignorance does not equal innocence, but it opens the door to mercy. The people did not fully grasp the weight of their actions. The soldiers were following orders. The crowd was incited by leaders. The Pharisees thought they were protecting their traditions. Yet ignorance does not nullify sin—it highlights the desperate need for grace. Jesus, in His compassion, saw through their actions to their need. He understood that the blindness of sin required more than rebuke; it required redemption. The mercy of God is often extended even when we do not know how much we need it.
In this First Word from the Cross, we also see the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy: “He made intercession for the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:12, KJV). At the moment when He should have been pleading for Himself, Jesus was pleading for others. His wounds spoke forgiveness. His blood became a river of grace. His prayer is echoed in the lives of His followers—Stephen, while being stoned, cried out, “Lord, lay not this sin to their charge” (Acts 7:60, KJV). The early church learned to live and love like Jesus because of this foundational Word.
This first word also sets the tone for Christian living. If the Savior, while suffering unjustly, could forgive those who crucified Him, how can we withhold forgiveness from those who offend us? To be conformed to the image of Christ is to carry this spirit of intercession and forgiveness in our daily lives. We are not called to carry offense; we are called to release it. We are not empowered to retaliate; we are graced to restore. “And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you” (Ephesians 4:32, KJV).
This Word on forgiveness is not merely emotional—it is theological. It is the foundation upon which the Gospel stands. Without forgiveness, there is no salvation. Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sins (Hebrews 9:22, KJV). And yet Jesus not only shed His blood—He spoke words that opened the way for that blood to be applied. He did not just die for us—He prayed for us.
As the blood dripped from the Cross, heaven’s mercy flowed like a river. His prayer pierced through time and touched the heart of the Father. The veil would soon be torn. The barrier between God and man would be broken. The gates of mercy would swing wide. Jesus was not only showing us what love looks like—He was purchasing our access to eternal life.
This Word from the Cross also shows us the divine pattern of intercession. Intercession is not just prayer—it is prayer birthed from identification. Jesus was not distant from humanity. He had walked in our dust, been tempted in all points like we are, yet without sin (Hebrews 4:15, KJV). He identified with our weakness. On the Cross, He stood in our place and spoke to the Father on our behalf. As believers, we are called to stand in the gap for others—those who persecute, reject, and even harm us.
The first Word from the Cross is the first portal to redemption. It is the opening statement of the greatest sermon ever preached—through pain, in blood, with compassion. This Word reminds us that the Cross was not the end of hope, but the birthplace of it. Forgiveness is not the absence of justice—it is the application of mercy that triumphs over judgment (James 2:13, KJV).
What would our lives look like if we lived from this Word? If we led with intercession, responded with mercy, and trusted the Father to handle our wounds? If Jesus could forgive while being crucified, surely we can forgive while living.
And so, the first Word is not merely historical—it is transformational. It invites us to the heart of the Gospel and the heart of God. It tells us that no matter what we’ve done, forgiveness is possible. It reveals that even in our ignorance, His mercy reaches. And it models a love so powerful that it rewrites our story and repositions our future.
“Father, forgive them…” is not just what He said. It’s what He still says. It echoes through eternity, from Calvary to every broken heart that cries out for grace. May we live from this Word, forgive like this Word, and proclaim this Word—until the whole world knows the power of the Cross.
Selah Moment with Prophetess Dr. Althea Winifred
