Think with me for a moment about endings.

Most of us have experienced the frustration of a story that ends in a way we didn’t expect—or didn’t want. Perhaps you’ve watched a film that builds tension beautifully only to leave the central question unresolved. Take the 2010 film Inception. The story reaches its climax, several threads are tied together, and yet the final moment leaves the audience hanging. The spinning top continues to turn and the screen fades to black. Is the hero dreaming or awake? We never quite know. I remember watching it for the first time and thinking, “You can’t finish the film there!”

Or think about one of the most famous tragic endings ever written: Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. In the final scene Romeo returns to Verona believing Juliet to be dead. Overcome with grief, he drinks poison beside her lifeless body. Moments later Juliet awakens, discovers Romeo dead, and takes her own life with his dagger. No matter how many times you read or watch this story, something in your gut longs for a different ending. Surely it didn’t have to end this way? Surely there could have been another conclusion?

Now consider another story—one that also seems to end in tragedy.

It begins with a revolutionary figure gathering followers around him. His message unsettles the religious establishment and challenges the structures of power. Many of the religious leaders despise him, yet the broken and the marginalised are drawn to him. He rescues a family from shame and financial ruin at a wedding. He speaks with a socially rejected woman at a village well. He invites Mary to sit among the learners—a place usually reserved for men. He feeds thousands from a few loaves and fish. He heals the blind, restores the lame, and frees those tormented by spiritual powers. He even raises a friend from the dead.

To those watching, there seems to be only one logical ending: make this man a king. Like great leaders of history such as Nelson Mandela or George Washington, surely this revolutionary should rise to power and reshape the world? But that is not how the story ends. Instead, he is dragged before the centres of power—not as a future king but as a criminal. He is given a robe and a crown, but only so soldiers can mock him. He is hailed as “king”, but only in sarcastic ridicule. Then he is lifted up in a prominent place where everyone can see him. But this is no throne. It is an execution site—Golgotha, the place of death.

The man who had said, “I am the resurrection and the life” dies.
The one who spoke of bread from heaven hangs starving and thirsty.
The one who gave life is executed.

What an ending.

How could the story of Jesus take such a terrible turn? Was this simply a revolutionary movement that collapsed? Was the cross a tragic miscalculation? Was the death of Jesus nothing more than a cosmic Shakespearean tragedy? The Bible gives a very different explanation. In the Book of Isaiah, we read these striking words:

“Yet it was the LORD’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer… and though the LORD makes his life an offering for sin, he will see his offspring and prolong his days, and the will of the LORD will prosper in his hand.” (Isaiah 53:10)

According to Scripture, the cross was not an accident. It was not the unfortunate collapse of a noble cause. The shocking ending of Jesus’ life was, somehow, part of the will and purpose of God.

But why?

Why would it be the Father’s will for the Son to suffer? Why would God allow this story to end at a cross? The answer is that at the cross we see the very heart of God revealed. In that one moment, three glorious realities come together: perfect justice, perfect love, and perfect grace.

Perfect Justice

First, the cross reveals God’s perfect justice.

We instinctively long for justice in the world. When we hear about scandals, corruption, war or abuse, something in us cries out: Someone must put this right. But the Bible tells us that the problem of injustice runs deeper than we might like to admit. The apostle Paul writes that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. The injustice of the world is not simply “out there”; it runs through every human heart (gulp). This is why Shakespeare captured something profound in The Merchant of Venice: “Though justice be thy plea, consider this, / That, in the course of justice, none of us / Should see salvation”.

At the cross, however, God does not ignore sin. He deals with it fully and completely. Jesus steps into our place and bears the judgement that rightly belonged to us. Christ receives our punishment so that we might receive his life. He bears our condemnation so that we might walk in freedom. This is sometimes called “the great exchange”. The cross declares that God is utterly just—and yet sinners can be forgiven.

Perfect Love

But the cross reveals something else as well: God’s love. The New Testament says this clearly in the First Epistle of John:

“This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.”

Love is not merely spoken about at the cross—it is demonstrated.

There is an old story from the time of Oliver Cromwell about a soldier sentenced to death. His execution was to take place at the ringing of the curfew bell. Yet when the time came, the bell did not ring. The soldier’s fiancée had climbed into the belfry and clung to the bell’s clapper, stopping it from striking. When she was brought before Cromwell, she showed him her bruised and bleeding hands. Moved by her sacrifice, Cromwell pardoned the soldier. Her wounded hands saved her beloved. Yet the love shown at the cross goes far beyond this. Jesus’ hands were not merely bruised—they were pierced. His body was beaten. His life was given. In that sacrifice we see the depth of God’s love for us.

Perfect Grace

Finally, the cross reveals God’s grace.

Grace simply means gift. It is something freely given, not earned. The apostle Paul writes in the Epistle to the Ephesians 2:8:

“For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God.”

Grace dismantles our instinct to rely on self-improvement, religious performance, or moral comparison. At the cross we see that salvation is not achieved by human effort but given as God’s lavish gift. No one deserves it. No one can earn it. No one can boast about it. It is simply given.

Not the End

So why was it the Father’s will to crush the Son?

Because in that moment the justice of God, the love of God, and the grace of God were displayed for all eternity. At the cross we see God as he truly is. Which raises a final question: Was Good Friday really the end of the story? Isaiah hints that it was not. After speaking of the suffering servant, he also declares that this servant will “see his offspring and prolong his days.”

In other words, the cross is not simply an ending—it is the beginning of something entirely new.

Through the death of Jesus, a new humanity begins to emerge. The guilty are forgiven. The broken are restored. Those who once rejected God become his friends. A scattered people become a united community with Christ as their head.

Good Friday may look like the tragic end of a revolutionary movement. In reality, it is the beginning of a whole new world.

It is Finished Collect Prayer

Here is a prayer that can be prayed over Easter Week. You might want to use it with family, friends or Growth Group:

[leader] 53 Who has believed what he has heard from us?

And to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?

 2  For he grew up before him like a young plant,

and like a root out of dry ground;

  he had no form or majesty that we should look at him,

and no beauty that we should desire him.

 3  He was despised and rejected by men,

a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief;

  and as one from whom men hide their faces

he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

 4  Surely he has borne our griefs

and carried our sorrows;

  yet we esteemed him stricken,

smitten by God, and afflicted.

[all] It is finished

[leader] 5  But he was pierced for our transgressions;

he was crushed for our iniquities;

  upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,

and with his wounds we are healed.

[all] It is finished

[leader] 6  All we like sheep have gone astray;

we have turned—every one—to his own way;

  and the Lord has laid on him

the iniquity of us all.

[all] It is finished

[leader] 7  He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,

yet he opened not his mouth;

  like a lamb that is led to the slaughter,

and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent,

so he opened not his mouth.

[all] It is finished

[leader] 8  By oppression and judgment he was taken away;

and as for his generation, who considered

  that he was cut off out of the land of the living,

stricken for the transgression of my people?

 9  And they made his grave with the wicked

and with a rich man in his death,

  although he had done no violence,

and there was no deceit in his mouth.

[all] Amen